#dew has a thing for the inexperienced

[ghoultrifle]

Hello! Can I request 108 from the smut prompt thing? Any pairing!

108: “come to my room there’s this thing i wanna try”

Dew/Phantom virginity kink with a bit of praise thrown in for good measure (2.2k words)

Hello anon, thank you for the request! I transmasced your Dew for you (clit, cunt, tiny dick, cock used), hope that’s ok! Also an homage to the sexual awakening that was the sex workers in GTA V. (and while I refer to Phantom as young, he is of course a ghoul of age)

“Hey sweetie, want a ride?” Phantom overheard from the TV’s speakers. Dew was playing a video game about stealing cars, he thinks. “Fuck yeah I do!” The fire ghoul responded in anticipation as he pressed the controller and an uncanny woman with a robotic walk climbed into the car on screen. There was some shuffling as the woman climbed atop the character Dew was controlling and they started to moan. The camera cut to a view of the car rocking while the screen continued to emit the most egregious sounds. Phantom was otherwise occupied trying his best to read The Very Hungry Caterpillar, “He ate how many oranges on Friday?!” But he never found out what else the creature ate as he began to focus on the lewd sounds now blaring in the room. The quintessence ghoul shifted in his seat. Looking down he could see, and feel, his trousers beginning to tent. Phantom was very new to his topside vessel and wasn’t exactly in tune with all the appendages. Unlike the others, he was the only male spawned in his summoning so there was no one else to experiment and learn with. 

Sure his dick had kicked up in the morning, and sometimes it was wet but it never happened during the day and it never felt like this. The idea of sexual organs being one and the same with organs excreting waste was not one that existed in the pit; sex didn’t involve specific parts and it sure as hell didn’t involve the piss organ. Phantom couldn’t decide if what he was feeling was pain or pleasure, surely his brain got fried during his summoning because his body must be telling him something’s wrong yet he wants the feeling to continue.

The nervous ghoul’s voice betrayed him as he half-moaned half-hissed when his hand brushed over the sensitive, clothed cock. The sex scene long gone, Dew looked over from the tank he was driving into traffic to see a whimpering, dishevelled Phantom looking horrified at his very noticeable erection. The older ghoul knew the other had been struggling to adjust topside but thought someone must’ve shown him the ropes of his new vessel by now, clearly he was mistaken and what a beautiful mistake it was.

Dew was the one shifting in his seat now, feeling a damp spot starting to form; he so desperately wanted to show Phantom the time of his life, show him just how much fun human bodies are, work him all the way up and watch him blissfully come down. “Hey Ant, you OK?” he asked with just a tinge of an ulterior motive. The quintessence ghoul whimpered in reply, covering his eyes in embarrassment and pointing at the bulge, he sulks, “‘m I dying, Dewy? It feels so weird.” Dew shudders at the nickname, no longer able to debate the ethics of what he’s about to do.

“Come to my room, there’s this thing I wanna try.” Dew offered, grinning at the new summon. Phantom was confused, Dew closely guarded his room as a temple for lovers and nothing else. In Phantom’s first days topside, he had accidentally entered the fire ghoul’s room (Swiss was not the best at teaching him how to read) and was met with a ferocious roar to get out! So why Dew would invite him to his room was a mystery, perhaps Aether left a healing remedy there?

Phantom nervously followed Dew to his room, wincing with each step providing the friction he felt so guilty about enjoying. The fire ghoul’s room was a sight to behold, dark walls illuminated by candles the ghoul no doubt lit with his magick, and a large bed that carried a sense of grandiose with its ebony headboard; red sheets contrasting with the dark wood. Dew asked the quivering ghoul to lock the door behind him, now Phantom was really worried, scrunching his eyes in concern: Was he possessed? Was Dew about to perform an exorcism? What was so bad that he had to be locked in a room?

Upon opening his eyes he was met with a stark naked fire ghoul stepping into a harness of some sort. I hope we’re not about to go rock climbing, Phantom thought to himself, still scared of heights after his summoning went awry. His eyes went wide when he saw Dew attach what looked like a dick to the harness, it looked so realistic; perhaps they were meant to be detachable and that’s why Phantom’s is feeling so odd. The young ghoul’s cock was still kicking in his trousers, forming a barely noticeable wet spot at the front. Whatever Dew was about to show him, he hoped and prayed to Satan below that it would fix his problem.

“What are you waiting for, baby bat? Clothes off and come over, need to show you a good time.” Phantom only tilted his head in response, prompting Dew to explain. “Has this really never happened before, bug?” He shakes his head, tears forming as the worry builds, “You’ve never hooked up with anyone topside, or even tugged yourself off?” Phantom gives another look of bewilderment and Dew can only respond with a look of hunger tinged with sympathy, tonight is going to be mind-blowing for the young ghoul.

Dew walks over and waves vaguely at Phantom’s boner then back at his strap, bobbing from the movement, “This is what happens when human vessels are horny and they want to make love. It’s completely normal and I’m going to take care of it for you, if you don’t mind?” he asks lovingly, gently cupping Phantom through his trousers as his own strap knocks into the taller ghoul’s thighs. Phantom nods as he moans into the touch, a sense of relief at the friction and Dew finally telling him everything’s alright. He also feels a hint of apprehension; what if he’s not good enough, what if he doesn’t know what to do, what if this is some big joke by Dew to rile him up and leave him high and dry?

The fire ghoul can sense his worry and reaches up to kiss Phantom, neck craning up as he tenderly strokes him through his trousers, determined to make his first orgasm his best. Phantom nearly doubles over at the stimulation, Dew catching him and guiding him towards the bed, “Undress and lay down for me, honey, on your back. Want to see your beautiful face.” The fire ghoul whispers as he positions himself at the bottom of the bed, popping open a bottle of lube and warming it with his ever-fiery palms, the last thing he needs is to scare the newbie away.

As Dew slicked up a finger and slowly teased Phantom’s exposed ring, the younger ghoul mewled, impatient and once again confused that his other waste organ was being used for sex. Confusion quickly melted into pure desire as Dew let a finger slip in, curling it and exploring the walls of the writhing ghoul. It wasn’t long before Phantom was a whimpering mess as Dew had two, then three fingers inside him, scissoring and occasionally brushing just past his prostate. The quintessence ghoul keened under the touch whining for more as he pushed back into the fire ghouls hot fingers. Dew could feel his own slick running down his legs as he took in the sight before him, writhing like a wild beast to be tamed, for Dew to own. He not-so-gracefully ground his dick against the mattress, anything to get some friction on his rock-hard clit.

“Such a good boy for me, Ant, taking my fingers so well, aren’t you hmm?” Dew whispered into his ears. Phantom cried out as Dew realised he’d found exactly what makes the new bug tick and boy was he happy to indulge. He pulled out, the young ghoul whining at the cold air now hitting his hole. “Gonna put my cock in you now darling, be a good girl for me and take it, yeah?” Phantom nodded like a puppy as Dew lined his sizeable cock up with the winking hole and pushed in inch-by-inch. When he bottomed out he reached forward to pull Phantom into a tantalisingly hot kiss, moving down to mark the young ghoul as his.

Dew begins to thrust into Phantom at a steady pace, his own cunt dripping now as the toy rocked against his tiny dick. The quintessence ghoul looked down at Dew, moaning as the cock hit his prostate over and over again, sweat running down the fire ghoul’s face, silky blond hair sticking to it, looking thoroughly fucked out. Phantom is unsure what to do with his hands, previously lying by his side, he’s too pent up to keep still now.

Dew thinks Phantom is just being a good boy for him, waiting for permission to touch himself, until he remembers, he’s never touched himself, he doesn’t know how to do it. The thought has him thrusting even faster as Phantom cants his hips up so Dew hits the spot that makes him feel so fuzzy inside.

The fire ghoul grins as he sputters out between moans, “Ah fuck, Phant you know you can touch ahh your dick, right?” Phantom begins to poke himself exploratively almost as one would knead focaccia, and yeah it feels alright but, “What’s all the fuss about, Dewy? Doesn’t feel as good as you do.”

“Oh baby bat you really are clueless, aren’t you?” Dew grunts staving off his orgasm in the pursuit of Phantom’s own, “Here, like this. Put your hand over mine OK?” Dew asks so sweetly one could forget he was balls deep in the younger ghoul, as he clasps a fist around Phantom’s weeping cock, applying just the right amount of pressure to make him whine a litany of ghoulish expletives. Phantom’s eyes glaze over as Dew guides his hand over his own, fist moving up and down in time with the fire ghoul’s thrusts. 

Now Phantom gets it, this is what the piss organ was really made for, the piss bit was just an accessory (it was, in fact, not just an accessory, as he later found out in a very wet session with Rain). He could feel something building, the pleasure increasing and he kinda did need to pee, why are humans so weird? he thought. Looking down he could see his cock continually leaking a slick, whitish fluid as both of their hands worked him up and down, “Fuck Dew, stop, needa aahhh, needa pee.” Phantom hurriedly said, worried for his bladder. “It’s alright baby, you’re not gonna piss yourself, just keep going and I promise what’s coming is so much better.” Dew hinted lovingly as he continued to jackhammer into Phantom, close himself.

It doesn’t take much, Dew’s surprised the new ghoul has lasted this long with the pressure of two hands stroking his cock and a dick in his pretty little ass. “You’re nearly there my brave boy, you can take it from here, just keep going.” The fire ghoul encourages as he cautiously removes his own hand from Phantom’s dick, instead placing the quintessence ghoul’s nipple between his finger and thumb deftly rolling it beneath them.

Phantom feels it, he’s going to piss himself. He decides to trust Dew, why would he lie to him after being so tender all evening? So as the older ghoul pinches his nipple, he continues to stroke himself, gasping at the feeling of his own cock beneath his calloused fingers. Almost in an instant it hits him, divine pleasure. Phantom scrunches his eyes shut as he writhes and shouts, cum spurting from his spent cock onto his stomach as he works himself through it, Dew still thrusting albeit at a slowed pace. The fire ghoul eventually slows to a stop, as does Phantom’s hand, overstimulation quickly setting in as the younger ghoul whines.

“You did such a good job for your first time, such an amazing fuck,” Dew giggled as he pulled out, “stay there, I’ll be right back” he promised as he walked over to the bathroom undoing the harness as he walked, quickly reappearing with a wet rag in his hand.

“Mmm that was so good, thanks Dewy.” Phantom called out. “See, bug, you didn’t piss yourself, huh?” Dew chuckles as he brings a washcloth to Phantom’s midriff, “Although if you’re into that I’m sure Rain would indulge.” He smirks. The new ghoul’s interest is piqued, but that’s a thought for another time.

Once Dew had delicately cleaned every inch of his and Phantom’s body, he joined the quintessence ghoul in bed, curling himself around Phantom's back. Suddenly a realisation hit the inexperienced ghoul, “Dewy, you didn’t spurt out the white stuff, did you not get the good feeling like I did?” He asked worriedly, how could he have been so selfish? “Oh bug, my anatomy isn't quite the same as yours, but no I didn’t have an orgasm. That doesn’t matter though, I got to see you have your very first and that means so much more to me than you could ever imagine.” Phantom can feel the older ghoul smiling into his shoulder, “You can always pay me back another day, hmm? Let’s call it a date!” He continues, genuinely enamoured by the younger ghoul’s self awareness, “But I’m sleepy now and I’m sure you must be too.” Phantom can only manage a hum of approval and a nod before he’s dozing off with Dew’s arms wrapped around him, his personal hot water bottle.

Just felt like putting winking hole in there to piss people off :) /lh

Speaking of piss, phantom is definitely into it and will find that out another time but for the minute let’s just revel in the bliss of him getting the piss/pleasure wires crossed during his first time and how that shapes his entire sexual identity for the rest of his life.

Also the tenses are almost certainly all over the place but just roll with it ok?

(requests are open if you want more or if you have any other ideas!)

[whiskeynwriting]

Comfort

Phantom Ghoul x F!Ghoul Reader

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Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

A/B/O dynamics (only briefly mentioned), vaginal sex, implied poly ghouls, sweet Phantom, slight innocence kink?

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A/N: I can’t believe I haven’t posted something in so long, but here’s an introduction to my new obsession. The band Ghost has completely taken over my life and yes, I absolutely belong to Dewdrop. Thank you and good night.

◆

The Band Ghost Masterlist (coming soon)

◆

It wasn’t common for Dew to be gone this long. He wasn’t often chosen for press tours and he didn’t want to be. Dewdrop liked to be at home, in the comfort of his own space and privacy, surrounded by all of his knickknacks and random things that bring him joy. And one of those things, is you. But for the past two weeks, he’s been on an entirely different continent.

You practically live there now, in his room, yours having been abandoned not long after you were summoned. But that’s not exactly where you are right now. Dew’s room could be described as… dismal. But in the most comforting of ways. It’s dark and dreary but that’s what you both like, it’s comfortable- to you, it’s cozy to you. And you’re cozy now too, it’s just… a different kind of cozy, vastly different.

Your small huffs of air are muffled in part by Phantom’s deep purple sheets, his favorite shade. There’s music in the air, notes that were already playing when you’d arrived unprompted at his doorstep. The dangling lights above his bed are glowing and his shades are open, exposing the darkness of night. And if you glance up, you can still see the twinkling stars shining in the sky. A breeze creeps through the window’s screen, having just barely been cracked. And the cool air feels nice on your face, a stark contrast to the heat engulfing the rest of your body.

“You belong to Dew?” He asks, out of breath.

The nod you give paints a smile across Phantom’s sweet face, a sinister grin. He tilts his head then, leaning in to whisper against your neck, “And you’re letting me fuck you?”

This wasn’t uncommon, not at all. It would actually be uncommon if the ghouls didn’t share each other within their pack. There were mates, there were recognized bonds, and still, sharing amongst the Siblings was a regular occurrence.

Nevertheless, Phantom got a kick out of making it taboo.

“Yeah,” Your blissful sigh slips from your parted lips, face plastered with an embarrassingly goofy grin.

Phantom’s gotten quite good at this - taking what he wants, finding his confidence in general but especially in bed. He’s learned a few tricks here and there and before anyone knew it, Phantom had grown his very own personality. You found him endearing, this sweet, naive ghoul. You’re the newest to be summoned and still, he retained his somewhat childlike nature, still seen as the baby of the pack. He often acted like a human teenager, and still does. Horny beyond belief and by far the most inexperienced. And while that may still be true, he now knows how to make it worth your while. Regardless of sex, though, you truly found comfort with him, and he was your safe place when Dew wasn’t within arm’s reach of you.

He has both hands on your hips, gripping you tight but keeping his claws at bay. His body is draped over your back, lean muscles flexing against your soft skin. And he has you from behind, one of his favorite positions. What originally started out with you on your hands and knees has ended up with you currently flat on your stomach, legs spread wide while Phantom humps himself between them with passion and vigor. And in the same breath, he’s still sweet, pressing his lips to the expanse of your upper back, the curve of your shoulder.

Twitching against your warmth, a shudder slips from Phantom’s chest, forcing him to nuzzle into the slope of your neck. Alongside that twitch comes an involuntary wave of his quintessence, prickling your skin and heightening your sensations.

”I want you,” He admits, whining in helpless frustration.

Endearing.

”Want you to be mine so bad, please.” His breaths are heavy, hands sliding from their place on his hips to wrap entirely around your midsection, shoving his hands between your skin and the bedspread. “So bad…”

”I am, baby.” Comes your sweet voice, sucking in a deep breath as you reach up and back. Your fingers find those longer strands of dark hair, curling ever so gently and pulling him impossibly close. And he leans into your movement, of course. “I’m here.” You whisper kindly once his cheek is touching yours, his breaths damp against your skin.

“Don’t tease me… you know what I mean.” The rare baritone to his voice is suddenly shown, a quiver briefly dancing across his upper lip. “Mine, mine.”

Of course, you know what he means. Phantom isn’t mated, and he’s had such puppy love for you since the day you crawled out of the Pit. Though, at the same time, you’re unconvinced of his plea. He’s just horny, that’s all it is.

He can hear and smell the wetness between your legs and it makes him feel fucking feral inside. The slap of his pelvis against your backside has been resonating off his bedroom walls for who knows how long at this point. You’d been doing your best to satisfy yourself, to not bother anyone while your mate was away. But enough was enough and when you finally found Phantom to give in, you just couldn’t stop.

Turning his head, Phantom’s mouth finds your own. His lips capture yours in a filthy meeting, shoving your head further down as his tongue forces its way into your mouth. Not that he really has to, you welcome him with open arms. You do, however, change the pace. Phantom lets you guide him after a moment, the fingers in his hair now petting gently at his scalp. Your kisses turn slow and messy, moans flowing sweetly into the other’s open mouth. His tongue slides against your own, his heat wafting over your features. Every now and then your lips will slide across each other’s, a silly giggle shared between the two of you then. He slows to firm thrusts now, too, grinding against your ass while he plays with the wet muscle in your mouth.

Your taste was something Phantom craved, your presence and warmth were traits he sought out on a daily basis. He loved to feel your soft body on his, loved to feel that slick stretch when he pushed himself in.

“Feels so good,” Comes his forceful whine, pretty purple eyes pinching shut. “Don’t ever leave.”

“Hm,” You giggle, eyes shut as you speak against his lips. “And what? Leave Dewy?” As if that were even possible considering your bond.

At that, Phantom’s eyes open slowly, staring down into your own. They scan your features once, a smirk playing on the very corner of his lips.

“We could always share.”

[wrathofrats]

WRATH YOUR TAGS ON THE SWISSALPS??? HOW DARE YOUUUU IM IN SHAMBLES FUCKKKKK IM GONNA KMS IF U DONT WRITE IT PLEASEEEEEEE

LMAO HI DONT DO THAT I GOT U BESTIE

Original post

I got carried away and blacked out and it became 2k, idk what happened either.

Swiss is so inexperienced and very anxious and mountain is the sweetest actually. This is so awkward because these two are dorks so good luck.

Small small mentions of blood but it’s taken as a joke.

It wasn’t long after Swiss was summoned that he truly started to understand the bands dynamic. Day in and day out of watching his pack mates eye each other like a piece of meat, constant touching and flirting and there was many parts of Swiss that yearned to be included in it.

He didn’t feel ready. Half split between feeling left out as the two ghoulettes he came with have been bonded and together since summon, and the other ghouls really seemed to take to them after a couple days anyways. It wasn’t like no one took to him, but he’s never propositioned, desired, at least not in his line of sight. He feels like he would be intruding if he were to say anything. So he waits.

The other half worries partially about being inexperienced. Never used a human body, barely has even touched himself and god he’s probably embarrassing, no one wants to be with someone so inexperienced right?

He continues to think about it. Fuck he practically studies the other ghouls and sex and whatever the fuck they’re doing together because when the time comes he doesn’t want to embarrass himself. He’s genuinely afraid he will just get laughed out of the room if he’s not ready though he’s sure he’s probably acting insane.

Truly Swiss has no clue what to think.

He sits on his bed, tosses a toy around in his hands. Nothing insane, something normal sized since he’s a beginner but he worries about it anyways. Hypothetically he knows where it’s supposed to go but

How?

He has no clue.

“I’ve seen dew take two before” rain smirks “shouldve seen him around me and aether, didn’t know the tight whore could do it!”

Does Swiss need to be able to take two?

He rolls the dildo in his hands again and gulps.

Maybe that’s a lesson for another day.

“Rain talks a big game but you should see how whiny he gets when he’s got a drop of blood in front of his nose. Had him drinking from my wrist the other day, he’d do anything for it” aether laughs

He almost winced hearing about it the first time. Never really considered… that being a part of things but ….. he can accept it if he has to, if that’s what the others want.

Swiss is probably getting ahead of himself.

He takes a deep breath and lays down in his bed, just stares at the toy in question because he really isn’t sure what to do with it. There’s no question of what he has to do but he doesn’t understand.

There’s a point where Swiss just decides to rip the bandaid off, reaches between his hiked up legs and pushes it into the tight ring of muscle.

It hurts, burns, doesn’t go in more than a millimeter and he thinks he’s probably fucked it up somehow or maybe he’s just awful or whatever other reason but he decides to simply give up for the night. The worries left to eat at him for the next day.

The morning is really no better for his mind. Stands at the kitchen counter lost in thought before anyone else comes in, the boisterous laughter breaking him out of his anxiety induced trance.

“Feeling ok sunbeam?” Mountain gives him a worried look, standing next to him to lean on the marble.

“Yeah! Didn’t sleep well, I’m fine”

“Well if you ever want help sleeping just let me know” mountain winks at him.

Was that?

It couldn’t be. Right?

Did mountain just finally proposition to fuck him?

He can’t say no. He’s come too far and wanted it too bad so he has to go to his room tonight right?

Questions race around Swiss’ brain. He’s the bottom right? Mountain is like a foot taller than him so that has to be it? But what if he that’s not correct and mountain gets offended? What if the rest of the pack hears and hates him? What if-

He desperately needs his brain to shut the fuck up.

The hours pass like molasses. Swiss swears every time he checks his watch after he’s sure it’s been an hour it’s really only been 10 minutes.

What time is he even supposed to go up there?

God he wishes more than anything he could stop this anxiety.

Swiss decides around 10 pm is good. Late enough for a reasonable bedtime but early enough he knows mountain won’t actually be asleep.

Mountain is shirtless, wearing low grey sweatpants when he answers the door. Swiss thinks he may be drooling but attempts to collect himself enough to speak.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come up here, been waiting for you to come to one of us sunbeam” mountain chuckles and motions through the open door to invite him in.

“Been waiting for you myself, hard to ignore such a big guy like you” Swiss pushes himself against mountain. He’s heard in pornos that men like to be called big. That was right to say, right?

“Didn’t know you were so eager” mountain smiles and lightly shoves Swiss onto the bed, straddling his small waist against the sheets.

“Course I’m eager, been waiting for this for ages, want to drink the blood from your wrist” Swiss winks.

Mountain sits up, “what?” He looks at him confused.

Did Swiss do it wrong? Aether made it seem like that was normal….

“I- um …. Yeah, want you to fuck me stupid, make me your whore?” He loses all confidence to his voice, looks scared to even say it and the concerned expression on mountains faces turns to laughter. So he really did fuck it up huh.

“Swiss…… have you done this before?” Mountain gets out between laughs.

Swiss should probably get up, leave with his tail between his legs and god he’s going to be laughed of the band for this,

“No… I’m sorry I ruined it I’ll go-“

“No! You don’t have to do that. Didn’t expect you to know.” Mountain smiles at him “come here, can I teach you? You sure you want this?”

A large hand caresses Swiss’s waist. Mountain moves him against the pillows, studying his language for any sign of hesitation or regret.

“Please” Swiss mumbles

It’s cute to watch him suddenly so shy, came in like a speeding bullet but now can’t look mountain in the eye.

“How much do you know? Have you ever touched yourself sunbeam?” Oh the tone to mountains voice should not be turning Swiss on but god it’s deep and gravely and yeah Swiss definitely may be desperate.

“No.. I tried but I don’t … know how? I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize, you’re ok, you’re safe here”

Swiss does feel safe. Safe enough to let mountain undress him, gently lift his shirt over his head and unbutton his pants.

“I’m going to touch you, alright? Tell me immediately if you start to feel strange” mountain caresses his cheek, staring into his warm brown eyes before reaching down for his hardening cock. It doesn’t take much for it to stiffen up fully, just a couple of touches and Swiss is hard against his stomach, still watching for mountains next move.

“There we go, gonna move your knees up. Is it ok if I put my fingers in you? Need to stretch you out if you still want me to fuck you”

Swiss just nods in agreement, bites his lip in favor of speaking and watches as mountain pours some kind of thick liquid onto his fingers.

“Just lube, it’s going to help”

It feels weird at first, more like some kind of intrusion than any mind numbing pleasure he’s heard about it. Swiss moans anyways, doesn’t want to hurt mountains feelings if it’s really supposed to feel good.

“Swiss…. It’s ok it’s not supposed to feel good yet, you don’t have to fake it for me” mountain laughs at the multi ghouls rapidly reddening face

“Besides, you won’t have to fake it here soon”

It’s embarrassing that a drop of pre bubbles at his tip just from that sentence. Mountains smile doesn’t drop, only a little cocky from the situation.

After three fingers mountain starts to push deeper, rolling them up instead of scissoring and-

Oh.

Swiss nearly yelps, vision blurs and jumps off the bed when mountain hits something inside of him.

“There you go, did you like that?” He laughs. God he needs mountain to stop laughing at him, needs his cock to stop jumping at his laughter too.

“Think you’re ready? Still ok?”

“Please” Swiss whines

The first inch feels wrong again. Nothing like when he did it the other night but mountain is much bigger than his toy and it honestly feels like it may be too much. He holds his breath, the stretch knocking the air from his lungs anyways but he grips the sheets and waits for mountain to sink the rest of the way in.

It’s overly slow, mountain being overly caring as always but he can feel every inch carve its way into him and he just waist for mountain to be down so he can collect himself.

“You’re ok, promise I’ll make you feel so good alright? You’re doing so well”

Swiss mentally notes the way his words make him see stars. That’s a kink to deal with another day.

“Gonna move ok?”

The outward thrust feels like it takes years, before mountain quickly moves back in him, trying to loosen him up before really taking him and mountain deserves an award in patience for being able to control himself for so long with Swiss so hot and tight around him.

“Fuck mount- feels- mountain-” Swiss gasps once mountain gets to pace. Eyes closed tight and mouth agape. Soft moans and whimpers escaping his lips and Swiss throws his hand over his mouth to attempt to silence himself.

Mountain quickly grabs his wrists, holding them above his head, “wanna hear you, wanna hear what I’m doing to you, fuck- Swiss want you to be loud for me”

A hot pit forms in Swiss’s stomach, burns in his abdomen and has his eyes crossing with the feeling,

“Mountain- I think I’m getting close I- please i think I’m going to-“ Swiss doesn’t even get the sentence out before he’s spilling hot and thick all over his stomach.

“There you go, fuck Swiss, so good feel so fucking good wrapped around me”

Mountain cums not moments later, pulls out and jacks himself onto the sheets as to not be ungentleman like for Swiss’s first time.

“Feeling alright Swiss?”

“Holy fucking shit I get it now”

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on Tech's Looks

(Me: "Doug, so you know, a lot of people are unhappy that the Bad Batch was made to be lighter then the regs. It's a hot topic."

Doug: "Well, here's my theory on the matter. I hope the kids on the Internet (his words for Tumblr) don't get too spicy over this. It's all in good fun. I hope it makes 'em smile and think a bit.")

After having a firm, peer-reviewed discussion (and by that, I mean endless texts with Doug) it has been concluded that Tech has lighter skin and hair, and a slimmer build, due to the Kaminoans leaning harder into the hillbilly part of Jango Fett’s genes, whereas the regs got the nicer, prettier, more amenable genes. 

In short, Tech looks the way he does…because he is a blue-collar white guy from the American South.  

A Florida redneck, specifically.  

And let me (by way of Doug) tell you: rednecks do not have beautiful tans, flawless fades, snatched waists, muscular thighs, diamond-sharp cheekbones, the ability to follow directions, or perfect matching armor, all of which a reg has. 

(Sorry, Howser, go back to guarding Ryloth or posing for GQ or whatever it is you do.)

Back to Tech. Look at that man and tell me the shit he gets up to would not be constantly at the top of r/floridaman

A lot of people might clutch their pearls, and be shocked at this revelation. 

“He has a fancy accent! He’s persnickety about certain things! He’s my fancy pretty boi and I’m going to dress him up in a gold thong in my fan art!”

You do you, kid. But let Doug and his neighbor here, Dr. Meat Muffin, defend this deranged argument, here. Using anthropological research applying autoethnographic methodologies that they conducted independently at one point. 

(By that, we mean that Doug is from the bayous of Louisiana and has lived in the Florida Panhandle before moving Up North. Dr. MM attended graduate school in a redneck hot zone, lived in said redneck hot zone for a while, and married a Texan as well. Hook 'em gig 'em and wreck 'em)

After all, if you want an army to win over the galaxy and work with the Jedi, you want well-mannered, shiny, handsome men with melanin and agreeable personalities.

You do not want a pale-assed weirdo in jeans and a receding hairline who can’t get off his phone to work closely with orphaned space wizards. 

Tech’s an anarchic Floridian piece of tornado bait and that’s why he look the way he do, says Doug.

Here's why Doug says Tech is a Redneck:

Mandalorians are Space Rednecks: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Trx7fDdlIo0. I do not own the rights to the video, but my God, it is perfection. A masterpiece. Mandalorians are rednecks in space, who end up colonizing Space Florida, no questions asked. Our theory is Tech is merely the concentrated, Waffle House-fistfighting, chew-dipping, Mountain Dew chugging, part of that. The Kaminoans just leaned into the trailer park part of Jango Fett hard when designing Tech, because no one can fix cars while shooting a gun and yelling at his crazy brothers like a redneck (more on that below). 

Hell, all of the Bad Batch are different brands of Florida Man:

Grizzled long haired tan guy with skull tattoo, obsessed with tracking, knife fighting, and hiding from normal society? Hunter.

Bald tanned dude with weird scars who loves blowing shit up and screaming for no reason? Wrecker

Pale, freaked out man who was kept in a cult’s closet for years? Echo 

Creepy, old, Second Amendment loving white guy with a gun themed tattoo who can’t seem to die? Crosshair 

Maladjusted orphan left behind at a bar by her inexperienced caretakers and almost drowns in the ocean? Omega 

His love of vehicles: We never see Tech whip out a manual to fix anything. The man says it’s because he has an exceptional mind, but that’s edging dangerously close to “Ah don’t need no schoolin’, hoss, I can fix any Ford!”.  Doug thinks it’s just because Tech loves playing with car parts, which is some grade A, hillbilly tomfoolery. And what is more redneck than some white guy ripping apart a vehicle in the dirt while the rest of his family bitches at each other in the heat? It happened right here in Season 2 (this exact scenario has played out many-a-time in Pensacola, trust me). All they need is some Lynyrd Skynyrd blasting in the background to make the picture complete. 

His clothing color scheme: “Oh, no!” you wail. “He just changed his colors to reflect Mandalorian heritage!” 

WRONG. 

Tech’s redneckery is blatant here, because his colors switch from 

Hot Topic goth to…UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA. 

“We’re loyal to each other,” says Hunter. And by that, he means the Gators, beloved of many an NCAA following redneck in the Sunshine State and beyond. Orange and Blue, indeed.

Notice how we first see him in these colors, is while he’s parked his stolen work vehicle on a beach while his brothers are busy being chased by huge-ass crabs as their sister is quietly fishing?! 

This is PEAK FLORIDA MAN. 

Tech was probably trying to get ESPN+ to work on the Marauder, because the Devil works hard, but the SEC works harder during football season. I wonder if he has a tattoo of Tim Tebow on his buttcheek.

His home is his car: Tech, as well as his unemployed brothers and underaged sister who the cops are looking for (how trashy is THAT sentence), live in the Havoc Marauder now that their home was destroyed in a fire fight with the government. 

("Jesus Christ, this argument just writes itself now, don’t it," -Doug) 

This attack shuttle, for all intents and purposes, is a stolen work truck that they live in. It’s filled with posters of guns, as well as other weapons and explosives, and has all the comfort of a Jacksonville gas station at 2 AM. All you need is some cigarette burns on the fender and some empty take out bags from Bojangles and it might as well be parked down by the river in Suwannee County. Just Florida redneckery. Speaking of which….

He loves guns and explosions: Won’t go into detail, but the man knows how to use multiple pistols, rifles, and different tactile maneuvers with glee. Tech’s only notable complaint regarding explosions is making sure Wrecker’s new fancy boom-booms aren’t parked next to his bunk. And the look of calm joy when his sister tells his brother ‘Do some damage, Wrecker!’ as Tech pulls a Bo Duke and flings his vehicle across a locked up work site, while his deranged brother giggles and fires some guns at a government-owned power plant from the back seat. PURE. UNADULTERATED. REDNECK. 

He’s a racer: It is a fact (with peer reviewed research) that rednecks really, really love them some racing. NASCAR, motocross, BMX, you name it. And if you’ve seen ‘Faster’, well, that’s all you need to know about the man. 

He has no fear of large animals: We’ve never seen him hunt, but Tech knows how to distract massive amounts of nasty animals using light, and the first response to seeing a terrifying monster isn't running away screaming, but whispering ‘FASCINATING’., before, ya know, firing a gun at it. It’s one step away from ‘IT’S COMING RIGHT FOR US’. You KNOW that man would be sponsoring gator wrasslin' contests if he could.

His actions towards His family: This is where Tech truly differentiates himself from the typical ‘geek’ character and leans hard into King of the Hill territory. Whereas a normal nerd character might nag and panic when his sister falls down a hole while drilling for explosives in a cave (dear God Doug, how much more redneck examples can you keep pointing out, I’m exhausted), Tech merely YEETS HIMSELF down into the abyss. Or when his brother picks a fight in the mess hall? Does Tech run away, or just start punching people like it's past closing time in the Applebee's parking lot in Daytona and the Dolphins lost? And let's not discuss the season finale :(. Rednecks are some loyal folks, family first, and that’s our man’s right there. 

There you have it, says Doug. Tech isn’t lighter because he’s better than the regs. The opposite.

You can not be a deranged, adrenaline filled, sassy, goggled weirdo flying throughout space and blowing shit up and not be pale AF with twiggy legs and a receding hairline that’s edging towards Hunter S. Thompson level, born out of America's Sunshine state while a hurricane chases you out.

::turns up ZZ Top::

[cowboyemeritus]

Hi!!! I am a fellow Mary gore enthusiast and i had this idea.

You were a sibling of sin at the ministry, a relatively new one, but you had a secret. You were raised catholic and only recently converted, so you were a virgin. Mary can practically smell the innocence and can’t keep his hands off you.

Ugh what I’d do for this baby 😭

ugh I know!!!! I’m so down bad for Mary it’s embarrassing

thanks for reaching out! here’s a little something something under the cut for your time. :)

everyone please feel free to send in requests/suggestions! I want to get back into writing and could definitely use the motivation lol

quick cw: no smut, but definitely mature content. also maybe stalking? idk Mary is a little creepy here but reader definitely likes it.

The evening dew soaks into your habit, and you squirm uncomfortably as it chills your skin. Mary’s lithe figure presses into you from above, pinning you to the grass with a surprising strength. Backlit by the full moon, you can just barely make out the contours of his face, high cheekbones and a blunt, straight nose. Now that it’s drying on your skin, you can smell that the blood they wear is fake. After everything you’ve experienced in the last month, that actually comes as a surprise.

Mary kisses you again, humming contentedly against your mouth. There was little resistance when, on your way back from the initiates’ bonfire, they ambushed you in the garden. Despite the warnings, all the rumors passed around about who — or what — they are, you were under their spell from the moment you first felt their eyes on you.

“Oh, Mary?” The Sister asks. She blows on her cup of tea, the steam dissipating into the air in faint swirls. “No one quite knows what their deal is.”

“I’ve seen them a few times now,” you note. “He’s always there when I cut through the cemetery. Groundskeeper, maybe?” She shrugs.

“I’m there all the time and I’ve never seen him.”

If they’ve been watching you, as you suspect, it certainly took them long enough to make a move.

“Look at you,” Mary growls, a grin splitting their pale face. You hang on to each word, not quite used to the sound of his voice yet. After all this time, the only thing exchanged between you being glances across rows of graves, hearing them speak is new and exciting. “Beautiful.”

I should be afraid, you think. Instead, your cheeks flush.

“M-“ You have to swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. “Me?” You’re shaking. A part of you worries this is all a mistake. Maybe you misinterpreted his attentions? You’re just a lowly initiate, after all. You’re still wet behind the ears. Inexperienced.

Naive.

Mary laughs, and it’s like music. He brushes his cheek against yours affectionately, stubble just barely tickling your flesh. Your eyes flutter shut, and lost in the gesture, your guard drops.

Before your eyes open again, he’s latched himself onto your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin there. A tremor wracks through you at the unfamiliar sensation, wrenching your mouth open and pulling out moan so loud the ghouls can probably hear it down in the dens. You should be embarrassed — the other initiates in your cohort will likely tease you relentlessly if you’re caught, but you couldn’t care less. None of them, it seems, are of interest to Mary. This mysterious, beautiful stranger has eyes only for you.

Pressing his nose into the junction of your neck and shoulder, Mary takes a deep breath, full of your scent. They sigh, flicking their tongue across the spot on your neck you know is already deep purple.

“I can practically smell it on you,” he says, taking another whiff. You consider asking what they mean, when you remember you’re still using the bar of soap you brought from home. Sweet-pea and violet; such a mild scent underneath the wine on your breath and the bonfire smoke that’s seeped into your clothes, but the contrast is so heavy even you notice it now. The irony isn’t lost on you. It reminds you of your old life; pleated skirts and tacky polos, of dragging yourself out of bed when, in your heart, you know Sundays are for sleeping.

The gears in your head click into place. Your eyes widen.

They’ve figured it out.

Mary retreats from the crook of your neck, but suddenly you can’t meet his gaze.

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Mary asks. The flush from your cheeks creeps downwards as embarrassment grips your whole being. You squirm beneath them, trying to find the right words.

“It can’t be that obvious…” Mary cocks his head to the side, feigning confusion.

“What do you mean, baby?” He wants you to say it. Fucking hell. Trying to prolong the inevitable, you surge upwards, crashing your mouth into his. Mary groans into the kiss, and you feel a bit more of his weight press down on you. “Hmm?”

You huff and roll your eyes, finally defeated. If they don’t keep touching you, you’re going to get desperate. “It can’t be that obvious I’m a virgin!”

Mary grins, and for a faint moment, you swear you see something in his eyes flicker unnaturally.

You gulp.

[merginyourface]

Your ficlet “Controlled Burn” is so good. I’m craving so much more - like Dew’s perspective - can he hear Aether?? This is SO good.

Read "Controlled Burn" here. Consider "His Guiding Hand" as a prequel kind of thing? Definitely read "Controlled Burn" first I think.

His Guiding Hand

Dew's strange experience as he becomes a fire ghoul

wc: 2501

His knees ached. Every time he shifted his weight there was sharp and splitting pain up his legs. He’d been here for hours and he was certain he’d developed blisters from the floor even with the long pants of his uniform. Other clergy members came and went so he kept his helm on. He didn’t have to wear it around the others, but he knew he had this expression on his face that he didn’t want anyone else to see. He could feel the tension between his brows and the frown deeply set into his mouth.

He also couldn’t stop the way his eyes were darting around the room as people rushed about. Dew hadn’t realized the ritual was going to require so many others. And if he wondered if it had anything to do with the inexperienced rat man who stood in front of him.

He had no problems with the Cardinal. Not yet anyway, but he hadn’t been around that long. And to already be making decisions like transitioning a ghoul’s element? That was a big stunt to pull within your first year, and he wasn’t even officially Papa yet.

As if the mousy man could tell the ghoul was thinking about him, he came and stood in front of his knelt form. Slowly, as if not to startle, he pushed two gloved fingers beneath his chin and pulled him up to meet his eyes. Dew had to admit there was something endearing about him and it probably had to do with the fact that he was already much gentler with them than Terzo had ever been. Case in point the way he was touching Dew’s jaw to try and comfort him.

“I know you must ache, topolino.” His voice was a gentle purr that did manage to soothe some of Dew’s worry. But he could feel Aether’s anxious gaze from where he was forced to sit on the other side of the room. “I think, this time, it’ll work.” He had said that the last time as well. “This is new to all of us. But I think it will be better for you.” Better for him? The Cardinal hardly even knew him.

Aether can’t hold back voicing the thought, “And what do you know about what’s better for him?” The tone is bitter. Aether still wasn’t over the loss, none of them were.

The Cardinal pulls his gaze away from Dew and doesn’t hesitate to harden it on Aether, “In the time that I’ve known Dewdrop, he’s always had the spirit and the presence of a fire ghoul, and—”

“He’s just fine the way he is;the way he was created. Do you have any business going and putting him at risk just because you accidentally summoned another water ghoul? Because—”

When Aether stood up from his seat, Dew knew it was time for him to say something. He wanted Aether to be here for this, to watch over him, but that wouldn’t happen if his inability to keep his opinions to himself got him kicked out. “Aeth.” Dew called. “It’s okay. I want to do this.” He wasn’t sure if that was entirely true, but when the Cardinal asked him, he hadn’t said no. Something, although he wasn’t sure what it was, told him it was the right decision. It called him.

Aether sat back down in the chair, and mercifully, the Cardinal doesn’t kick him out. “Like I said, topolino, one more time, I promise.”

“Cardinal—” Dew starts.

“Copia, please.” His smile is sweet, if not a little goofy.

Dewdrop doesn’t bother trying the name, “Do you know what happens? After the ritual?”

The Cardinal swallowed as his eyes darted away from Dew. “No, topolino. I’m sorry.” This time, the Cardinal pulls both his hands to cup Dew’s face. “But you are strong, my little ghoul. You will be successful and burn brighter than any ghoul ever has. I know it.”

Dew nods slowly, as another clergy member rushes in. “We are ready to go again, Cardinal.”

“Yes, of course. Let us begin.”

Twenty minutes later of words Dew didn’t understand, the Cardinal closes the book he was reading from, and slowly comes towards Dew, who sits inside a circle drawn of various things. He didn’t feel anything different from the last times they’d done this, and aggravation rose in his chest. About to stand up, damned the consequences, the Cardinal reached Dew, index finger extended.

Curiously, Dew waits. The Cardinal slips the helm off his head with his free hand, letting it fall and clink across the floor behind him. Long, silky hair falls down his shoulders as he tilts his head toward the man. Surprised, Dew flinches a little as the Cardinal taps the space between his eyes. Confusion sets on his face as the Cardinal says nothing, but he taps again. And once more.

Then it hits. His vision goes blurry and he feels like he’s falling. Falling and falling, but he’s sure he hasn’t moved. Vaguely he can still see the red in front of him of the Cardinal. He can hear Aether call out to him when he falls forward onto his hands.

Fuck, the room is spinning now. Quickly. Where was he? He tried to look around, to gain awareness of his surroundings, but he was becoming more and more disoriented. The Cardinal says something, and he hears the loud steps of Aether rushing over to his side.

Suddenly, he’s not spinning, he’s floating. He can’t feel the ground underneath him anymore but is coherent enough to register Aether’s arms around him. The two of them exchange words and then he’s carried out of the room.

He loses himself at some point, in between being on the ground in front of the Cardinal and being in Aether’s room. But when he surfaces from the inky darkness of his subconscious, he sees Aether watching him.

“How long has it been?” Dew grunts out, the room still spinning, but less now than before. He tries to move one of his limbs but can’t seem to pull up the energy.

“Just about an hour.” Aether smiles, “How are you feeling?”

Dew pulls his eyebrows together, aside from feeling like he had the worst hangover of his entire life, he didn’t feel much different. “Fine, I guess. I don’t think anything has changed.” Aether hands him a cup of water and Dew looks down at it, with little concentration he is able to form a little cyclone in the cup and tries to hand it back to Aether.

“That’s not why I gave that to you.” He chuckles softly, ruffling Dew’s hair between his horns lightly before smoothing it down. “Drink it, stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid.” Dew frowns. Taking a small sip from the cup. He looks down and his frown deepens. He can’t pinpoint the feeling, but something feels off.

“We’re pouting now?” Aether comments, probably in an attempt to be lighthearted.

“Maybe it didn’t work.” Dew mumbles, moving the offending cup away from him.

Aether comes and sits beside him, wrapping a large arm around his shoulder. In his unbalanced state, it slumps the smaller ghoul against his chest. Aether notices how easily his body gave, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I guess I’m feeling a little weak, but this can’t be it. I figured it’d be more—” He feels his eyes and brain completely unfocus as if he was detaching from his body. Everything was falling away, he was falling away. He didn’t want to leave. “Aether—” Dew choked, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Tears welled up in his eyes as fear set in.

“I’m right here, Dew.” Aether moves to crouch in front of him, but Dew couldn’t feel him. “I’m right here.” He repeats.

“No—” And he fights it. He fights the feeling of falling even though it makes him sick to his stomach. He fights the feeling even though it makes his head feel like it’s splitting into a million pieces, he fights even though it makes his entire body cramp and spasm in pain.

“No, please. Aeth, please.” Dew collapses in on himself, trying to hide from the aching tremors and pain.

“I know, Dewy.” Aether’s voice cracks. “I know, I’m so sorry.”

“No!” Dew cries, he doesn’t know. He doesn't know that Dew is slipping away like falling sand. If he lets go, what happens? Copia didn’t tell him and maybe it was because he didn’t know. They’d never done this before, this kind of process. Who knew if it was even possible? Maybe he was just dying.

Dying. That must be it. The slipping feeling. It couldn’t be good. He would keep falling if he let himself. He would fall and fall until there was nothing left for Aether to hold but a husk. Nothing left for Dew to experience except the dark expanse of nothing that surely must await him after his existence.

He fights the feeling for so many hours.

“Dewdrop, you need to lay back down.” Aether tried to push him back into the nest, but Dew didn’t want to lie down. It was harder to fight the feeling that way. Plus, in the last couple of minutes, this choking feeling in his throat was making him nauseous.

He swats away Aether’s hands, “I fucking can’t.” He speaks but it was the wrong thing to do, opening his mouth only exasperated the nausea. His hand darts over to the trash can and he tries to cough up whatever was creating the lump in his lungs. He feels it loosen with a snap and mercifully, it comes up quickly. Dew looks down at it, more confused than anything. And when he takes his next shakey breath, his lungs feel different. The air feels drier, almost foreign.

He lifts his head, intending to tell Aether that he thinks it is starting now. But this time, when the feeling kicks up again, the pull-down, he can’t fight it. It’s like a yank and it all goes black.

He can still feel the pain, but not like in the way that he could before. He couldn’t pinpoint the spot where he hurt, it was just an all-encompassing pain he was over-aware of. Eventually, the falling stops. He looks around but it’s hard to make out his surroundings as if he was in a dream. If he focused on the dark void he could make out objects around him, but only one at a time. If he changed his focus, whatever he saw before seemed like it stopped existing.

A voice echoed around him, “Come forward,” and he tried to find where it came from, but as objects flickered in and flickered out as his eyes darted around, he realized it was impossible to pinpoint the voice. He saw some dried trees, and small shrubs, but nothing more of note.

“Come forward.” The voice seemed to grow more demanding as it rattled around him.

“I can’t see.” Dew panicked a little, stepping into the unknown without knowing what would fall under his feet frightened him.

“Ah, of course. Take a deep breath for me, ghoul.” Dew did as the voice said but it was weird. The action felt fake like he wasn’t taking a breath at all. That’s when he noticed he could no longer feel his body. He couldn’t feel his heartbeat. Had it stopped? Or did he no longer have a heart to beat?

“Focus on the ground in front of you and walk toward the edge.” The edge? The edge of what?

“What if I fall?” Dew asked, but he already started to move forward slowly, he made no impact on the dark, dry soil below him.

“Falling isn’t so scary.” The voice said knowingly with a chuckle as if there was a joke hidden in the words.

Eventually, Dew could see the edge and he stopped. He looked around again trying to find the source of the voice, but no one seemed to be around. He peered over the edge, focusing on what was below and it was magma. Deep, hot, bright red, and rolling. The fluid was dark around the edges of the chasm but bright in the center.

Dew was sure that he should feel the heat on his face, but still he felt nothing. “What do I do?” Dew muttered, but he had a feeling he knew.

“Jump.” The voice said encouragingly. “Jump.” It whispered.

A strange sense of confidence washed over Dew, and without another moment of hesitation, he caved even further, now desiring the fall. He wanted to feel what it would be like to jump down. He moved back from the edge, before shooting forward to fling himself over.

Dark rumbling laughter echoed around him from the same voice as he fell.

It surprised him that when he hit the bottom it didn’t hurt at all. Slowly, as the burning substance circulated, it began to pull him down. Further and further until he was under the surface and was steadily sinking deeper. He felt nothing.

But then he felt the pressure as the dense substance squeezed him. Then he started to feel the heat, like a warm hug. But panic seized him as he started to feel his limbs again and started to feel how the magma was burning his flesh. He kicked and pushed, trying to fight the current pulling him down. He screamed but now the magma filled his lungs, serving a new excruciating level of pain.

“No.” He could hear the voice warn, “Don’t fight it.” He wanted to listen. He knew that he should but there was just so much pain. He needed to escape. He could feel his flesh crackle and split.

“Dew!” He hears his name being called from deeper somehow. It’s Aether. It must be.

“Deeper. Go deeper. He’s calling for you. Follow him. Stay with him.”

Deeper. He was right. The burning was starting to fade away the deeper he went. He let the current pull him further and further. His skin turned dark as he cooled, chipping away and repeating.

“I love you.” Dew gasped as he heard the words. “I love you, Dew. Please, you can do it. Come back to me.” Dew could hear the pain in Aether’s voice, the misery, and the tears. He had to get back.

Dew kicked his arms and pushed himself further down until down wasn’t down anymore. Suddenly, down was up and he was soaring back the way he came through the darkness. He couldn’t feel any wind to signify he was going up, just the inherent feeling that he was.

He could feel a cool finger drag across his arm, but he couldn’t move yet, couldn’t see. But he knew it was Aether.

The flying stopped abruptly, and it felt like he met a brick wall. And his eyes shot open when he could feel the familiar texture that was Aether’s nest below him.

__

My inbox is open! Ask me about it!

[spoiledleaff]

leaaaaffffyyy !! it’s taken me much too long to decide on a prompt to send you, but i think i’ve finally decided on one !!

so, if you’re still writing for the inexperienced smut prompts, may i please request a little something with prompts 24 and 29 for dew/mist ? (i’ve become borderline addicted to the way you write their dynamic)

-💙💍

feliiiiiiiiix, my little british texan beloved, haha!! >:3c oh my goodness, of course i'd love to write some more dew/mist?? i adore them also, it's always lovely to be reminded i'm not the only water ghoul slut, haha! 💚

explicit ✿ cw ; mentions of tentacle dicks ✿ ftm he/him dew + intersex she/her mist ✿ wc ; 1.3k. terminology for dew includes ; clit + pussy/cunt + folds ✿ terminology for mist is honestly just a little bit of everything. dewdrop has a pre-transition body.

Despite the way that Mist is circling his defenseless form — naked and chilled from where he's left kneeling on the slab of altar, the only thing protecting his most intimate parts from the unwanted eye being a thin black sheet: satin — Dewdrop doesn't feel like prey.

There's determination coursing through his veins, hot and heavy in a way that makes the younger ghoul break out into a cold sweat; he wants to see this through.

"Take my virginity," he had asked, steeling himself in an effort to seem strong and more confident than he felt, "make me yours. Please."

To his childish glee — to his deep surprise — Mist had agreed with a cock of her head, a sharp-toothed grin, and a comment about how polite the little sin was and how adorable he looks begging.

(And how much cuter he'd be dropped to his knees.)

Now, on his knees and bare on some older altar that Mist had cornered the smaller ghoul against Lucifer knows how long ago, Dewdrop still doesn't feel like prey. The sharp barbs that decorate Mist's long tail flutter as she continues to circle him.

They're poisonous, Dewdrop knows, but they also glow softly in the dim light of the godforsaken ritual room they've found themselves in; it's a softly yellow glow, reflecting orange against the red and darker red colored furniture and objects. Dewdrop thinks it's cute despite it all.

Mist pauses, cocks her head again and laughs. Dewdrop realizes he must've said that aloud.

(He's still getting used to these new human vocal chords. They chime in at the strangest of moments.)

"You're adorable," Mist purrs, choosing that moment to slink her way on to Dewdrop's little altar slab.

Dewdrop chirps as he watches the way Mist's fins and gills flutter against the force of invisible wind. They're a beautiful color: partially transparent and sheer from where the membranes are loosely stretched between those predatory barbs of her. Her short hair tickles Dewdrop's nose, moon kissed curls kissing the outer curves of Dewdrop's nostrils. He thinks he might sneeze, realizes how unsexy that must be, holds it in before sneezing anyways. The sound echoes loudly against the low ceiling, but Mist's eyes twinkle fondly at Dewdrop's look of sheer confusion as to how his vessel could betray him at such a time.

"Sorry." Dewdrop shrinks into himself, his own vibrantly colored fins shudder with his embarrassment.

"Don't be." Mist sighs, dipping her head to nuzzle her tall horns against Dewdrop's. They rub together harshly, but, unlike Dewdrop's sneeze, the sound doesn't grate against his ears. "I never knew you could make such cute little noises."

"Me neither." Dewdrop pouts, turns away but ends up knocking his horns against Mist's, keeping them close. "Do all human bodies make such weird noises?"

"Well..." Mist chuckles quietly underneath her breath, taking a moment to untangle the curves of their respective horns from each other. "Everyone sneezes, but it's all a different sound depending on the vessel. Your's just so happens to sound like a newborn kitten."

(Mist places her hand over the clammy meat of Dewdrop's thigh, and the younger sin has to suppress another equally embarrassing noise at the cold touch.)

"A-ah." Shit. That's not exactly the voice of a ghoul who's more than proud in their current levels of confidence.

Mist's purr grows deeper — more mischievous — as those painted nails trace symbols through Dewdrop's skin, growing closer and closer to where those thighs are squeezed together tight.

"My naïve little pearl," Mist smiles and Dewdrop's never noticed that charming yellow tint to her fangs before, "oh, how you make me feel young again."

The safety blanket that was once the thin satin draped across Dewdrop's lap is delicately tugged away by pretty hands. Dewdrop can smell the musk of Mist's arousal, wants to somehow tattoo it into his nostrils, his lungs. The older ghoul hoists herself forward, her naked form now lays beside him, and Dewdrop can see the heavy weight of her cock trapped between her beautifully slick thighs.

(Idly, Dewdrop wonders if her slick is poisonous — if her scent is an aphrodisiac — because he suddenly wants to drown in her presence and her love. And what water ghoul wishes to drown?)

He gulps, and Dewdrop wonders if that sound too echoes off the basement walls. Mist's eyelashes flutter against the high arches of her cheeks, small bioluminescent freckles decorating the dark skin. She's flowing — she's fucking glowing — and Dewdrop wonders if it's a sign of beloved blasphemy or deceiving divinity. Quickly, he decides he doesn't care.

"Can't wait to make you mine, little droplet." She sighs against his temple, the curves of her breasts brush against Dewdrop's clavicle. The weight of her palm pushes against his hipbone; her touch is cold, and Dewdrop would rather freeze than be apart from the sin laid bare before him.

Mist uncrosses her legs and moves to straddle Dewdrop's knees, her nipples brushing over his cheek as she moves. Her flushed erection bounces free from the confines of her thighs, and Dewdrop just barely manages to catch a glimpse of the meat of her folds from behind the sheath of her cock. It curves deliciously towards her pierced naval, the veins are engorged along the underside of the tentacle. Her cock is flushed a deep purple, the skin of her sheath wrinkles slightly around the opening, stretching to accommodate the sheer mass of her erection.

Dewdrop's drooling; he can feel the way his clit throbs at the sight of Mist's dick, the way his virgin pussy clenches around nothing.

"Is that for me?" He finds the courage to ask, wide eyes staring at the dark, sticky fluid leaking from the tip of Mist's tentacle. His thighs squeeze tighter, and Mist notices with a soft smile.

"Of course, sweetheart." She purrs, smooth as wine down Dewdrop's throat. Her free hand reaches up to grope gently at Dewdrop's breasts, squeezing at his nipples and pulling mercifully. The younger ghoul melts in her cold touch, keening softly at the way she loves him. "I'm going to slide my cock inside that tight, aching cunt of yours, and I'm going to love you thoroughly from the inside out."

Dewdrop shudders, his chest bouncing softly in Mist's palm. She finds it cute, she tells him with that charming smile.

"Oh, fuck." Dewdrop shifts his weight, parting his thighs just enough for Mist's hand to slip in, touches him.

"That's the plan, Dewey." Mist chirps, and Dewdrop finds enough sass in his brain to tap his forehead against hers; he watches as Mist's cock bounces against her stomach, inky black smearing over the aquamarine jewels of her piercing. "I'm going to ruin your vessel's virginity, and I'm not going to stop until I've ravaged you with my love and worship."

"W-worship?" Dewdrop mewls as Mist's fingers tug on his clit, spreading his folds despite the semi-awkward angle. She leans in, kisses his cheek.

"Worship." She repeats with another smile, and the younger sin can feel the grooves of her teeth against his skin. "There's a reason I trapped you against an altar, little pearl."

Dewdrop groans, leans away from Mist's touch before gently pushing his palms to her sternum and chest, pushing her and guiding her down. They switch positions — Mist allows it with half lidded eyes and a crooked grin — and Dewdrop wastes no time in straddling her lap, eyeing the sight of her flushed tentacle with glazed eyes. He leans forward, and Mist's reach up to gently grip at the little ghoul's waist. Dewdrop's pushing fingers into his own sopping wet cunt without much thought, his hand roughly sliding over Mist's sternum to grip at her breast. Her cock now trapped inside the junction of Dewdrop's thigh, the tapered head grazing Dewdrop's heavy shaft.

"Wanna- I wanna touch you too," he gasps, breathless as he drowns, "wanna show you how I worship, Mist."

[varhanasmm]

THE QUALIA: general bio/species info

Name:  N/A 

Nicknames/Aliases: Qualia, Quale, the fungi, ‘shrooms, etc.

Age: N/A

Size(s):   As small as a pinhead, to the size of a tree.

Voice:  None, physically. When able to be ‘heard’, they’re perceived as gentle, soft-spoken, calm, and unmistakably curious

Other:  No bodies; coloration and shape all vary depending on location. 

Sex / Gender: N/A        -   Personal Pronouns used:  no preference;

Planet of origin:  Rita Qualia     -   (species (singular): Quale   /  in reference to origin: The Qualia. )

____________________________________________________

THE MINDS:

Traits:  Curious, intelligent, loyal, logical, empathetic, innovative, adaptable. ||  Ignorant, naive, unwise, inexperienced, limited.

Likes: All of them like Life, their planet and everything on it, they all enjoy each other. Some individual organisms may enjoy things more than others, such as the cool air of night, the prickling warmth of the morning light, the sensation of dew covering them, philosophy, and thinking beyond what they know is for certain. All of them like to think about things that Could be. They love curiosity, questions, and answers. They like to create things (mimic, more like) when they have an abundance of energy and food. Things they’ve ‘seen’ (ate/mapped out inside and out), like animals or plants. Things that no longer are, but they remember. You may randomly find a mass that resembles a dead animal or plant, or even a shape on the ground that oddly resembles the innards of a creature. Sometimes… you might even find what appears to be a, albeit partial, humanoid shape. But these oddities quickly decay and disappear forever. They love to be playful, but have yet to come into humor… but once they understand it, they will adore the new, cheeky playfulness. 

Dislikes:   All of them dislike very, very few things. They dislike suffocation, starvation, drought, and being killed or damaged. They live for very long periods of time (many, many centuries), and being empathetic and close as they all are, they greatly dislike any loss of life. Some particular individuals may dislike things more than others, such as the cold, hot temperatures, or the sensation of being submerged in liquid. They’re all quite uniform in their dislikes, despite being individuals. Their environment and lives don’t differ enough for dislikes to be widely different.  They’re coming to fear the unknown, and big changes. (like storms, mass death and destruction, and sickness. Fear is relatively new to them… and they find it quite unsavory.

____________________________________________________

BACKGROUND (extended):

        “Rita Qualia”, a previously unknown, unnamed planet. It’s established somewhere far away, sitting comfortably in the relative safely of the corner of one of the spiral arms.  The planet itself is about the size of Venus with an axial tilt just smaller than that of Earth’s, creating slighter, less extreme seasonal changes, and making for a gentler climate; perfect for sustaining fungi and plant life.

        It’s unknown when fungi appeared on the planet, but once it did it marked a great new beginning for the planet, and for all of the life on it.  The plant life and the fungi quickly flourished in the other’s presence. Insects and small creatures sprung from the liquid and dirt and continued to evolve alongside the plants and fungi. The plants evolved stronger and larger with the insects and animals coming around, and in so doing, the fungi adapted, evolved and grew in ways one could only imagine.. and then some.        There is balance. It’s near-perfect ecosystem is left undisturbed and uninterrupted, and is allowed to grow and grow and shape itself in total peace. Until it has perfected itself… with the help of an ever growing intelligence. It started as nothing more than a mechanical process; of nature taking it’s course and throwing organisms into a world of survival of the fittest. Where on other planets, the animal life would likely be the one to grow into intelligence, it instead was the fungi. It was already intelligent to begin with. But then it realized it, and became not only aware of it’s surroundings… but of itself and others like it. This was nature’s largest step in perfecting evolution. To become even better, they must be able to Learn and Think for themselves.

        Rita, a human being, was the first to discover this newfound intelligence on this beautiful planet, teeming with Life. But the circumstances were not ideal. Her and her crew had to make an emergency landing, but it didn’t end well. Large forests and hard, protruding terrain was not what they’d expected upon entering the atmosphere.  The fungi could sense something approaching immediately, and they inwardly recoiled at the speed and mass of it.                  The ship crash landed, and whatever the impact didn’t destroy… with the oxygen rich atmosphere.. the heat and sparks igniting did. It engulfed the craft and destroyed all life on site.         

               The death and destruction was devastating for all.

        Fortunately, the craft was relatively small. Unfortunately, there were no survivors… but one. Lieutenant Rita Cavallero, by some miracle, pulled herself from the scrap and ruins and searched for survivors. There were some but without proper medical training, she couldn’t help them survive beyond a few days, and they slipped away.         Her first job was to secure the ship, test the air for contaminants, and finally set up an amplified distress signal. It took only a few more days before the fungi set in and began reaching for the decaying bodies.           The fungi were afraid. They just lost thousands of colonies within seconds– countless lives were snuffed out as if it had been nothing. Sure, they’ve had asteroid impacts, and fires… and death was accepted as a natural part of life… but this was different.  There were still vibrations coming from the object, noises and movements.  Occasionally, a shape would go outside where they could detect it. It wasn’t long before the mycelia regained their footing in the soil and inched closer and closer to the craft. They learned to keep a specific path clear, otherwise the creature that lived inside would burn them away or trample on them. The creature took note of this and logged it in their journal, [the fungi has… learned]. 

        The human discovered that the air was breathable, but utterly filled with spores. They simply made an air filter to preserve their oxygen reserves.         A month since the crash. The fungi were beginning to recognize some vibrations in the air and put meaning behind them. It reminded them of the creatures of the planet when they called out to each other… but this one was all alone. Who were they communicating to? And why were the vibrations so… inconsistent?  This being was intelligent, they would come to realize… but just how intelligent..?

        They sometimes act as cordyceps when necessary, and through this they have learned a great deal about living creatures. It’s the only way they’ve ever known how to sample a Living Mind before death occurs. They’ve found a living brain is very different from a dead one. It has… warmth. And intent. And … waves. Frequencies. Brainwaves.       They’ve witnessed dreams and emotions through other creatures by inserting themselves into the brain, as brief as it all was. And it was beautiful… and sad. They knew it was wrong to do such a thing for the mere pleasure of it. They’ve always been the planet’s symbiont; only taking when necessary. It would go against everything they knew to act Selfishly– or to purposely cause suffering to others, only so they could experience something like ‘beauty’.          – Perhaps… they thought.. That experience was simply not meant for us.           But this time… they had purpose. They’d learned long ago how to coexist with a living organism for long periods of time, and they believed they may find something beyond interesting in this being. They believed they could help them, like how they help trees and plants.    But… this being was different from the life on this planet, and they would come to realize too late that they could not save nor help them.         It wasn’t long after they’d rooted themselves in the being that they began to realize just how different they were. Perhaps they overestimated their abilities, they thought to themselves… as the human progressively became weaker and weaker in their presence.         They wasted no time in reaching out into her subconscious. They watched from afar for a long while, absorbing and observing all that they could. They learned some language, some things they didn’t quite understand like holidays and thoughts of their home… earth… and how much they missed it.     They recognized other thoughts and feelings, and found that they could relate– and they preened under the knowledge that they had discovered something… New. Someone new.         Sentience can appear as nonsensical. The being simply did what they desired, not what nature drove them to do. And that is the reason why their actions and movements and noises made no sense to any of them in the beginning.                 With this new knowledge, they finally, properly reached out to shake this other self-aware being’s hand… figuratively, of course.  They induced lucid dreams to ease her into the idea that they were here– that they were alive and aware too. That she was not truly alone.         It took a few attempts and she needed a lot of reasoning and explaining and proving (which mainly included small things like the fungi moving or spitting out spores on command in the waking world, etc)– but in the end, Rita did finally come to accept that  “the mushrooms were talking to her”.             Rita was hesitant and worried, and she had every reason to be. They understood her wariness. They were always honest with her, even when she asked if she would die because of them. ‘It’s probable,’ they said.  ’…we’re sorry’ they added, quieter. They told her honestly that their presence in her caused her body no serious harm, but it would likely weaken her body and make her much more tired than she would have been otherwise.  She wasn’t a fan of that, but it’s not like she had any fungicide or anything. The fungi didn’t find that joke very funny.    

        Her logs jumped from exhausted grieving, to concerned confusion… and eventually evolved into disbelief… and  Wonder.           “–I’m either hallucinating out my ass because of all these mushrooms, or this fungi is actually…sentient.“  The fungi thought that perhaps that was supposed to be funny. Rita told them that maybe it was, just a little. The fungi shimmered a little out of glee, and Rita couldn’t help but laugh a little with them.  They were learning.

        And then Rita died. The fungi chatted with her as she expired, keeping her company and comforting her, telling her that death was scary sometimes, but it would be okay. They would take good care of her. Hours before she died, she gave them a name.  

        “Qualia” she said.  Since they were so fond of philosophy, she found it doubly fitting. Their experience of life and living differed so drastically from her own, that she would never have known they were intelligent let alone sentient had they not taken the chance they had by reaching out to her. In doing so, they begun to evolve even further, she said. She told them she was proud of them, and that she hoped they continued to try to grow and adapt and expand their reach beyond what they know, even if it was frightening sometimes.

    And then she was gone, and the fungi …never felt such an overwhelming sense of loss. They knew now what suffering was – true suffering, perhaps. It nearly crippled them and stunted their ecosystem, but they knew better than to let the planet suffer because of their own pain… So they continued to do what they did best… and then some.

        They preserved the space craft that fell to their planet, and they held their dear friend’s bones encapsulated inside with the rest of her crew. And at last they answered one of Rita’s questions– “what is the name of your planet?” – "Rita Qualia.“ After themselves, and the woman who expanded their… Qualia.. well beyond what they could have imagined in her short time with them.

[vrisrezis]

Hi could you do Danganronpa v3 comforting reader while they are having a panic attack dew to a triggering memory? Thank you :)

Rantaro does his best to stay calm, he’s pretty good at hiding the fact he’s nervous from you, so he’s able to calm you down quickly. He absolutely hates seeing you so upset, so he delicately asks you what it was that triggered your trauma so that he can make sure it won’t happen again.

Kaede panics a little when this happens, but she does her best to try to calm you down! She’s so sweet and optimistic, so she’s pretty good at cheering you up, distracting you with music. She would eventually try to ask you if you wanted to talk about it, or what she could do in the future to make it easier on you.

Ryoma understands and knows how to stop a panic attack, he used to go through this kinda thing himself. He does the 5 things technique typically, as it’s what works best with him but he can use other skills to help you out if it’s what you desire. He hates the idea of you remembering something so awful and he wouldn’t dare to pry about it.

Kirumi is no stranger to this sort of thing, she has had to help many people with ptsd, as the ultimate maid she’s had to help many people and assist them. This is no different and she comes up with many different methods that are best suited to you and takes very good care of you when this happens.

Tenko panics when this happens and is completely unsure of what to do in this kinda situation, so she asks you what she can do to make it better. Aside from that, she asks you in advance what would work best for the future, she feels horrible that she couldn’t be there to protect you back then, and now you have to suffer the consequences even now.

Angie knows how to help you through your panic attack, she thinks it’s horrible what happened to you, that atua decided to not protect you in that moment and now you must suffer. Perhaps it was to make you stronger? That is what she tells you. She tells you you’re much stronger than a normal person, because you deal with something so horrible. She isn’t the best at making you feel better, but she’s on your side.

Miu is horrible with comfort and panics when she sees you in this state. She freaks out, in fact and starts whimpering, wanting to make you feel better but not knowing how. In the state of her panic, she asks you what the fuck she can do to help. She probably comes up with an invention to help you with your panic attacks until she can make one that stops them completely.

Gonta actually knows how to help. Contrary to popular belief gonta is smarter than he looks and he has dealt with panic attacks when he was a little kid, his solutions may be useful but if they don’t work for you he’ll be completely lost and just try his best to get you through it. He’s pretty panicked despite knowing what he’s doing, probably because he knows how horrible panic attacks can be.

Kokichi has had a few panic attacks in his life (more than a few) as a child. So he knows exactly how to help, this is one of the few times you’ll find him being serious and genuinely caring towards you as he tries to help you in whatever way is best for you and he’s extremely soft and sweet with you for the whole day.

Kaito isn’t sure how to help, so he simply asks you what he should do. He’s very scared when this happens, since he’s just so goddamn inexperienced with this. He hates for you to remember such a horrible memory, if he doesn’t already know what it could be he’s curious as to what it could be, so he may ask about it.

Kiibo may not be sure what to do the first time, in fact he’ll be scared and at a complete loss, but afterwards would do his research on panic attacks and from then on has many solutions and is very useful and he is sure to make your panic attacks less frequent.

Himiko doesn’t know how to help in this situation, she only knows a few techniques for panic attacks since she used to get them as a kid sometimes before her magic shows but .. yours seems a lot more serious so .. she will need some guidance on what to do when you’re having a panic attack.

Maki has experience, she used to get them and was around kids that got em. She can help easily. Besides, being an assassin means being able to see the terrified looks on peoples faces.. and well.. witnessing different people have panic attacks was often. So she’s very helpful and does everything in her power to make sure you no longer have this issue.

[littlefreya]

Velvet Chains

Summary: For a generous fee, August Walker is yours. A man devout to pleasure, who will worship you for an entire night and make sure your first time is more than memorable. 

Promot:  

 A thought - August as a gigolo who specializes in deflowering. 👌

Pairing: Soft! August Walker x Virgin Reader.  

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+. August Walker as a sex-worker, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, a depiction of bodily fluids, soft!August themes, a tinge of angst and August’s monster c... 

A/N: When I received this prompt, I didn’t think I can actually do it justice, but it was 3am and I started dabbling around. Then in the morning, I took another look at it, and this little drabble turned into a one-shot. I hope you’ll like it, I hope I did well. Many thanks to @agniavateira​ my muse who beta’d my story. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed reading. 🖤 DM if you want to be added to my tag squad. 

Title: Velvet Chains

They were all little flowers to him, fresh peonies and flushed roses. Young or mature, it never mattered as long as they were still oh so pure. Undefiled, succulent flesh. Kissed by dew and wrapped by the last remaining petals of their innocence.

All for him to willfully pluck.

Sprayed with notes of tobacco, and boozy fragrance of rum - August Walker was the top-tier kind of service, a man to die for with his three-piece suits and shiny leather shoes. At one point he didn’t even need to self-promote; they came to him, all doe-eyed and coy, willing to pay as much as it takes to have him breach through the sealed gates of their garden.   

The rules were quite simple: Cash in advance and always wear protection; other than that anything goes. August liked to see himself as a procurer of fantasies rather than a male prostitute. For a generous fee of $1500, his girls earned themselves a night they never forgot. Whether it began with a dinner at the most outrageous restaurant, a masked ball at a billionaire’s mansion, or an intimate evening with his homemade cooking at a cosy sublet. 

It was up to him to choose the experience for the ladies after thoroughly assessing and profiling each client. He was never wrong; after all, it was his job to study women, both mentally and physically. 

“I know what you need,” he would murmur as he kissed down their navel and swept between their shaky thighs. And in his grip they indeed laughed, cried, and came undone so many times over, reaching out to grasp heaven around his unapologetically huge cock.  

Until you changed everything. 

August couldn’t quite crack you; while he enjoyed, savoured, and conquered every woman he had, it was you who seemed to have more power over him than he did over you. The quiet abyss in your eyes reeled him in like an unfortunate, foolish fish teetering on a hook. Whatever mysteries that mind of yours held, he wanted to pry it open with his fingers and brush them through the parchments of your soul. 

He desired you more than just the flesh; he wanted to be deeper in you than he ever was in any other woman. 

‘Who are you?’

Shivering in his presence, it was crystal clear that you weren’t immune to his spells; yet you didn’t seem impressed by the theatrics or his suave appearance. As if you saw right through him, and knew it was all but a spectacle.  

Wanting everyone to witness your ‘claiming’, he took you to the dimly-lit roof of his private apartment and laid you on a blanket beneath the beaming stars. When his lips touched yours while slowly ridding himself of his clothes, August felt like he could tell you his most kept secrets though he didn’t want to. 

This is not how it worked. Not for him. 

Sorrounded by the fairy tea-lights that adorned the intimate rooftope, you flinched as he began undressing you, and trembled so vehemently once completely bare that all he wanted was to embrace you in his big arms. And he did so, collecting you against the dark fur of his chest, the heat of his body provided shelter from the cold October breeze.

“Beautiful,” he whispered sincerely and allowed his hands to roam the tender map of your body. Likely, he would never see you again, so he wanted to remember every curve, dimple, and scar; he needed your moans imprinted in the museum of his mind. 

The same desperate, breathless pleas only a virgin would make, purer than pure.

Breathing in shudders, you laid down beneath him with your legs spread out. Your little untouched slit displayed to his hungering gaze, asking to be reshaped by his intrustment. August was never one to lose control, but your entire existence has made him question every decision and in a moment of frivolousity, he lost himself completely and broke the most forbidden rule: 

He entered you bare. 

Painfully large and hot as flaming iron, his rigid cock tore through your maidenhood and delved into your velvety pit, desperately searching for the engulfing shelter that was your womb. Weeps of pain rained down your lips; he was too big, and he didn’t slow down. He unwrapped you, tearing your rose petals one by one, sinking in until you could have sworn he was infused between your lungs. 

Overwhelmed by the raw sensation of your wet flesh engulfing him, August raked his arm around the small of your back and held your body against his, forcing you to spread wider, to grant him the infinite access he demanded.

“Look at me kitten,” he murmured in a half-breathless, half-soothing voice and showered hasty butterfly kisses across your forehead, “I’m inside you. It’s done, now let me please you.”

He seared your body, your sensitive entrance pulsating with a twinge of grieving anger around his veiny cock, your walls squeezing, fighting off his lewd intrusion. While you anticipated the pain, the initial shock was too much to bear. 

“I don’t think I can take you,” you retorted and swallowed hard, trying not to cry as he swelled and flinched inside you further more.

August reached a hand to your jaw and caged it between his strong fingers. Not saying a word, he stared intensely into your eyes. Smoke and broken mirrors shadowed his glare. In your daze, you swore you could see his reveries and hear him whisper without moving his lips. 

The barriers of your guarded castle were in ruins, and so was your self-preservation. Fully submitting, you allowed him to take you beneath the shimmering, black silks of midnight. 

August was both gentle and rough as he rode between your thighs, his heavy body surrounding you completely. His entity seeped through your lungs and pores, his bewhiskered mouth left sloppy, ticklish kisses and chanted a hymn of pleasure against your neck. 

For a slight moment, you wondered if he was this passionate with all of his customers. But all thoughts died at the moment his crown slammed into the wall of your womb, and the entirety of your existence was flooded with both the tremors of sudden pleasure and satisfying pain. 

You wanted more, you wanted to be complete. To be completely his.

“Oh god, yes!” You cried for him, clawing your nails at the taut muscles of his back.

Grunting, he plunged into you, harder with every pull and deeper with every thrust. He sought for heaven between your legs and as inexperienced and naive as you were, you followed your instincts and complied to his arousal. Bucking your hips, you yielded to meet the jerk of his hips - your rhythm a savage mess, your demeanour that of a virgin-whore. 

“Good girl, my good girl,” August praised, thrilled of the shift in you, and by the helpless, glossy gaze and gaping mouth as you moaned and begged. Your freshly open cunt clung to his invasion with its growing tightness. Holding onto him the way the moon is bound to earth.

Control was gradually lost over your own bodies, enslaved to something stronger than your wills and wits. It was as if you became vessels to haunting spirits that made you slam into one another, lost in a sweaty, carnal trance until a flush of sudden rapture broke between your legs the way raging waves break upon a ship lost at sea, consuming it completely.

Like a dauntless sailor, August followed you into the depths of euphoria. Jumping to his knees, he hauled you by the waist and slammed you against him, needing to be balls-deep within you. With a loud shout, he came undone, astonished by the raw, unbridled sensation of releasing himself inside another person.

You both shuddered in shock as his thick cum bathed your womb in three, warm gushes. 

‘Oh, August, what have you done?’

Spent, he nearly collapsed on top of you, holding his hands flat to the side of your head. He took a deep breath before pulling out from your hurting hole and moving to lie by your side. The pink mixture of your essence trickled between your simmering lips just the way it coated his still-swollen cock. Glancing down upon it he felt an odd notion of triumph, more than the usual complacent feeling usually evoked with his clientele. 

“Don’t worry, I am clean.” He promised. 

In a way, you were his first as well.

Pulling you against him, he nuzzled your neck and hummed lowly, “I don’t imagine you could give me anything.”

Still trying to land back on solid ground, you said nothing. Words didn’t make it, not through your chest nor your head. You basked within the moment, trying to memorise every vibration that flowed through your veins as the glow became dimmer with every passing minute.

Limbs entangled, he decorated your shoulder-blade with honey-sweet kisses while your spine attached to his hairy chest. He watched you quietly, admiring you completely until the two of you fell into a dreamless sleep under the guarding sky. 

Come morning, August was awakened by the sounds of the raging street below. The scent of toxic vapours hung heavy in the air and his face curled at the sounds of the beeping horns. For a moment, he forgot where he was but then you were the first thing on his mind. Even though he knew the deal was for one night only, something in him itched for a generous ‘on-the-house’ lazy morning sex.

As he rolled to lie on top of you, his chest felt abruptly empty. He was met with nothing but the defiled blanket.

You were gone.   

Though the scent of your body, your sweat, and viscous fluids were still stuck to his skin, your memory a sheer piece of silk carried away by the cruel wind. The weight of a thousand stones dropped in August’s gut and he flipped onto his back once more and stared at the cloudy sky. 

It resonated in him that this was all that it was, and he would never find a girl like you again.     

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

*I don’t own August Walker or the Mission: Impossible Franchise

[yonemurishiroku]

So do you have any more ideas to share about that whole Vampire!Nico and Werewolf!Jason thing? Because I remember that really cute post about how Nico found Jason when he was young and if you have any ideas to expand on that I would love to hear it very much

Also your stuff is amazing love to read it

UrOHHHHHHH okay okay everyone chill——i’m so excited omg i’ve been diving in this AU for days (just bc i want to write it but have no idea) anyway—-

I’m not sure whether you’d like to hear about the whole Fantasy Royal AU thingies or that specific Nico found Jason when he was young so I’ll just. ramble about both, I guess. Buckle up, buddies, bc I’m damn sure gonna speak whatever that comes to mind.

Anyway, when I say that Nico found Jason when he was young, I was just thinking about Nico practically raising Jason LOL.

The whole idea is basically isolated vampire Nico trying to be a good father to the cub he accidentally found in the forest, who is just happy to have something look after him for the first time in his life. Their life together, and the things they would do to keep it from others’ hands.

Why this, you ask? Well like I say: awkward but trying parenting Nico, and pup Jason! And the interspecies war that comes with them

- The Nico in this is a pureblood noble royal all-that-crap vampire, who, unsurprisingly, live isolated in the forest, the having-a-whole-mansion-for-himself kind, cut off from the world and weakened due to decades of no blood feeding. Everything is fine tho, since it’s not like he’s gonna fight anyone soon. And then he finds a young, injured, practically on the verge of death pup.

Werewolf is the vampire’s natural enemy, the only kind capable of preying on them. Rationally, Nico should have killed it, perfectly ensuring his peaceful albeit lonely life.

But he didn’t. For whatever reason that is. So now he has a pup to look after.

Jason, still a pup at that time, doesn’t know much about the enmity among different kinds. He just thinks that neither his father nor his step-mother truly care about him and he feels lonely so he runs away. Tripped, fell, probably rolled around a few rounds, and now he wakes up in the bed of a kind young man who smells cold like… midnight dew.

Nico treats his wounds and eases his pains. Nico’s nice. And he doesn’t want to come back to his pack. So, Jason stays. And somehow Nico lets him.

And they live together.

It’s awkward at best and downright disastrous at worst. There’re reasons that vampires and werewolves dislike each other. And while Nico is technically decades older than Jason, he’s an isolated inexperienced individual. He knows nothing about raising a child. Jason, a child he is, doesn’t know any better.

But Jason is just happy he has someone who actually cares about him. The things Nico teach him sound weird sometimes, but it’s Nico so he doesn’t doubt. Nico unintentionally hurts him sometimes, but it’s okay because he’d always say sorry and hurry to fix it. Jason’s parents didn’t care about him hurting. He hurts Nico sometimes, too, mostly when those teeth and claws come out, but Nico says it’s okay, i know you didn’t mean it’s and doesn’t hit him.

More than once, Jason blacks out and wakes up with a bloody Nico between his claws. He can’t stop crying for as long as the vampire is still recuperating in coma.

It’s just a mess of trying and failing, of apologizing and trying again, of fighting and licking each other’s wounds all over again. Of Nico convincing himself that Jason wouldn’t kill him and Jason telling himself not to eat Nico. Of Nico digging up his library to learn about werewolf’s instincts and Jason dozing off on the vampire’s clothe piles. Of Nico freaking out when he can’t find his little housemate and Jason clinging to the other’s cloak whenever he has a chance. It’s nice.

Vampires age extremely slow compared to werewolves. Whereas Jason has grown to be a mature wolf, Nico looks like only a couple of years has passed. He’s shorter than the werewolf now. The day that Jason exceeds him, they throw a party, they make a cake, they sing until midnight. And still, Jason stays. They become the sole existence in the other’s world.

Of course, there’s a war that comes licking at their feet (just bc I love conflicts as much as Eris herself does). 

There’re intruders breaking in their little peaceful corner of the deep woods. Nico is requested to return to the vampires and Jason scare them off. The werewolves find Jason and Nico set fire to the mansion so that they can run away. Nico abandons his nobility to stand by Jason’s side. Jason betrays his clan to protect Nico. etc etc... all of that. 

There’s no place for them in this world, now. Then again, the only home they love is next to the other. 

Is it love? More than that. It’s a connection. A bond. Carved deeper than flesh and bones.

What’s the end, you ask? There’s no end, bc I don’t intend to give it one. Maybe they just keep running away and die side by side eventually, i don’t know. This story is just about how Nico and Jason have found each other, got attached, and refuse to let go - all regardless of their natural enmity. Whatever happens, they would forever stay. And that is enough.

Next, the Fantasy Royal AU!!!

Did I mention that the Nico in here is manipulative? Because he is, by the way. Actually, on second thought, I think this is pretty similar to the one above: Nico still has significant impact on Jason’s actions. It’s right there in their dynamic - Nico is manipulative.

And how is that, you ask? I have yet a clear image in mind, but from what I’ve already come up with, let’s just say Jason is betrayed by his own clan and falls in the vampires’ hands. Nico, as one of the most respected royalties, gains possession of him and later uses him to plot the pack leader’s - aka Jason’s father’s - demise, as a form of revenge for his mother (I’m obsessed with Nico avenging Maria don’t blame me).

When I get to write it properly, I suppose it would focus on how Nico manages to convince Jason to fully turn his back against his father and thus provide him with an irreplaceable, much-needed aid for the plan of bringing down Jupiter. There will be half-lies and unfaithful claims, for Jason is, by all means, a loyal, dedicated alpha who, despite the mistreatment, values his pack. Nico’s manipulativeness shows when he promises Jason a peace for all kinds to get him on the same boat whereas he only has one goal and that is to have Jupiter’s heart in his hand. He needs Jason. The sacrificed young alpha is the key to infiltrate the werewolf clan and reach his mother’s murderer.

Nico has Jason treated as a guest in his personal mansion. He indulges the werewolf’s insulting and hostile attitude. He keeps Zagreus’ claws off Jason’s neck. He relies on Hades’ favourism to have Jason safe under his wings. Offering him kindness and respect. Showing him co-existence is possible. All the while planting in the young alpha’s mind an idea of a wonderful peace between lands. And with that, naturally: the downfall of the old reign. Namely, the current pack leader.

So, Nico makes Jason the leader of his archenemies. He brings Jason up and builds him again, all respectful and kind, telling him “You don’t deserve this” “You can have better”s, only to have the alpha pave a way to his own father’s death. He practically wages a civil war in the werewolf clan.

Just let me clarify, it isn’t like Nico wants to eliminate the werewolves. And while he practically uses Jason, he has nothing against Jason himself. Nico only wants Jupiter dead. He uses peace as a bait since he finds out Jason is kind to a fault and tho he doesn’t seem to resent being abandoned, he is bitter as being left by his clan. Usurping, while gives off a rightful meaning, also guarentees a claim of self-worth to satiate Jason’s emotional wounds and Jupiter’s end as an inevitable byproduct. Nico just so happens to find it beneficial. 

Somewhere along the line, Jason finds out about his true purpose and flares up. Somewhere along the line, Nico realizes that he needs to stand up from the pain too. Something along the line, they fall in love because Nico’s kindness is as true as his resolve to avenge and Jason’s existence somehow means more than a tool for said revenge.

Actually you know what? They’re in love because I say so. Since the sole reason I came up with this AU is because:

1/ Vampire prince Nico. gothic style. royal attire. huge fur on one shoulder. all of that. and the underworld deities as his royal family just so that i could smuggle in Zagreus.

2/ Manipulative Nico because obviously. Nico being diplomatic and patient with in order to manipulate Jason. subtle pep talks to hype up. let’s go kill your father to take the throne yay

3/ Jason usurping Jupiter. IDC I WANT TO SEE IT OKAY????

4/ Nico, as representative of the vampire kingdom, bows to the new werewolf prime alpha and Jason, the newly crowned leader himself, looks at him and thinks, “He uses me like a pawn, but I still love him.”

OKAY I think this is pretty everything lolol there’s more i have a mind but I have a rule that is to keep something wrapped as a sorce of motivation to actually write it. So here’s everything I can offer for the time being LOL I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT. 😭😭😭 THANK YOU A MILLION FOR THE COMPLIMENT ASHDAJDHAJ. I’m really, really glad someone is enjoying my content. God bless ur soul.

Feel free to send more asks if you want to read more! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[belit0]

Hey, can you write Indra + size kink + cockworship + nasty cum stuff ?? Sorry, i'm hungry for that man

Sorry this took me SO FUCKING LONG omfg

No need to be sorry, I’m as hungry as you. I haven’t written smut in a while, so bear with me, I’m getting back at it:,(

Tw: Indra knows nothing about communication

When Indra enters the house, the sun has already set. He looks drained, tired. It’s been days since he started wearing his hair loose, devoid of his usual ponytail, and it only helps to make him look more massive than he is.

His steps are heavy as he heads to the bedroom, and when he looks at you with those expressionless serious eyes, you know he won’t be eating dinner today either. That’s okay, you’re not used to spending time together as a normal couple anyway, and you know you’d feel weird if he actually sat down with you and joined you for a meal.

His form disappears down the corridor and you know he has found the way to bed, seeking comfort from the adversities of the day. His shadow is dragged across the walls by the candlelight, and for a moment, it looks like the demon everyone says he is.

But of course, you know better than to believe those ridiculous tales.

It’s been months since this man appeared in your village, a place led by a poor wretch who was trying his best to get his people ahead. Only a few enjoyed good fortune, privilege, and wealth, and you were not one of them. Life before Indra, here, was based on working hard for pennies, finding food wherever possible, wearing the same clothes repeatedly for lack of more garments. Poverty was rampant among almost the entire village population, and despite the leader’s best efforts, nothing seemed to work for the betterment of the situation.

But a mysterious man with long hair and thick shoulders, tattooed eyes, impressive physique compared to the famine-stricken people... left everyone captivated. With just a couple of suggestions and commands, things turned around, and the outlook brightened for everybody. This mysterious man quickly rose in the hierarchical power of the village, and the current leader ended up giving up his place.

Indra became their ruler overnight, and hopes for the future of the town seemed to grow stronger and stronger again.

Town expansion was inevitable, welcoming visitors and travelers intrigued by the legends of this man who brought fortune to a doomed place. Enemies were also unavoidable. The Otsutsuki defended and used all his power to prevent the destruction of the foundations he had built with so much effort, leaving everyone terrified in his steps.

His red eyes became stories used by mothers to frighten disobedient children, his violet beast traveled on the tongues of all the merchants and their incessant rumors.

Respect mingled with fear, yet Indra never wavered.

He looked imposing as he walked the streets of the town, staring at nothing in particular, an expression forged by iron and ice. His towering figure seemed to cast a gigantic shadow over every other man nearby, and all the women were dying to take the vacant place at his side.

Everyone thought as he became leader he would choose one of the few wealthy ladies of the village as his wife, but he did not.

It was months after his ascension to power before he communicated with a woman. And that turned out to be you.

Although the village prospered and grew bigger every day, your life remained the same, complicated. Money was scarce as well as food, and working hard every morning was necessary if you wanted to get a crumb of bread.

You tended the garden of a prosperous family, kneeling in the morning dew, your clothes covered in dirt from the work you had started just a few minutes ago.

Footsteps in front of you broke your concentration, and when you looked up, a tall figure was staring down at you. A flowing robe floated in the wind, and that frown was visible even from the floor. Indra was intimidating without uttering a word.

“You look thoroughly filthy.” He had said. “I’m sorry, my lord.” You had replied, bowing your head in respect.

You did not finish that day’s work, for offering you a wide hand, Indra Otsutsuki himself lifted you from the dirt and escorted you to get a fresh change of clothes. Not one of the worn-out ones you used to wear, but an expensive one, of excellent quality, full of exquisite details. A garment of high society, one of the kind he himself usually wore.

From that moment on, he did not leave your side. It was only a matter of time before you moved into his residence, an immense house in the middle of town. You became the envy of all women, no one being able to understand how their leader could choose a servant girl as his partner.

And despite the fear you felt towards him at first, although his haughty looks seemed to be empty initially, you eventually grew to understand him. Dread turned into respect, affection, love.

After all, he saved you from that life of misery to give you one of luxury and privilege, asking for nothing in return. Even though you slept in the same bed every night, he never touched a single hair on your head, never came near you, never took the initiative you feared he may take.

“Why me?” you asked once, the blush on your face shielded by nighttime darkness inside the room. A large space lay between you both on the bed, and Indra, while you couldn’t see him, probably had his back to you. “You are the prettiest.” He replied simply, and you caught a note of amusement in his voice.

During the day it was rare for you to see him, but at sunset, you would both be in the bedroom. No lustful touches in the middle were necessary to make the night complete, for the silences which at first were awkward eventually were filled with chatter.

That intimidating look, that wide-backed warrior with blood-colored eyes, became a companion, a pleasant person to spend time with. Never smiled, never laughed, but you know he is calm, that he enjoys the moment as much as you do. You’ve seen him interact with other people, how his muscles tense when someone is way too close for his comfort, how his brow furrows when anyone speaks to him. You know you’re the only person he tolerates, appreciates, and loves around him.

That’s why seeing him arrive like this is something uncomfortable in your chest. Slowly following in his footsteps, you find his clothes lost all the way back to the room. You pick up garment by garment, and there is a certain satisfaction as you smell his clothes and feel his perfume. As you reach the doorway, he is already tucked into bed, buried under sheets. One of his arms supports his head and acts as a pillow while his other hand scratches his chest, which is slightly uncovered. One of his legs is bent, and covers slip off his skin, revealing a thigh and worked muscles. His eyes are closed, but he knows you are there.

Leaving his clothing on a chair, you approach him and sit on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in your lap. Rarely have you seen this scene, where he relaxes with all his rights in his own bed. Sex has never been addressed between the two of you, and it’s something you’re grateful for. Rumors travel faster than the wind, and many a woman has walked around claiming to have spent time in the bed of the mighty Indra. Whether that’s true, you don’t know, and you’ve never asked either.

If true, your experience is undoubtedly unparalleled.

Still, seeing him like this, becoming one with the bed and stretching out, getting a taste of his toned chest and his thick thigh... Curiosity suddenly demands more.

“You’re staring.” His eyes are still closed, but to be put on display is still just as humiliating. “I’m sorry...” You’re not sure if get up and leave at that moment, but it’s his voice that clears the uncertainty. “Why? I’m your partner, naturally.”

It feels like confirmation of your actions, and you become brave all at once.

“Can I help you... To feel better?....” Your voice is full of hesitation, yet one end of his lips lifts, revealing a wickedly tinged smirk.

“Be my guest.”

Climbing on top of him, your hands tremble with anxiety and anticipation. His eyes flutter open and he watches you intently, analyzing where your actions lead. The man really is huge, and being partially on top of him, the size difference is even greater. Indra seems to rejoice in your stupor, picking up on your intentions and stirring the sheets covering him as you settle between his legs.

Whatever nervousness you felt about what was to come only grows worse at the sight of his size, as even half-hard, his cock’s intimidatingly enormous length.

“Already frightened?” The teasing tone sliding across his tongue fills you with new determination, and with both hands, you hold his shaft. One at the base and one at the head. Your tongue timidly explores that unfamiliar surface, feeling in your grip how hardness invades his dick second after second.

Your lips wrap carefully around it, and pushing gently, inch by inch, his length finds its way into the pleasantly warm depths of your mouth. One of your hands slowly slides down, dragging skin in its wake.

Fixing your eyes on Indra while trying to deal with the raw, inexperienced situation and size, you notice impatience and need, lust swimming in red eyes dominates his expression.

From an instant to the next, your shoulders are enveloped by two gigantic hands, and position is turned around, a vast body hovering over you and trapping you underneath it.

“You teasing little fucker...”

Being handled like that awakens something on the inside that you rarely felt before, some sort of tingling urgently needing to be soothed. A broad palm grasps your chin, which moves your face in the direction Indra desires as he suddenly engulfed your lips.

You have never kissed this man before, and to be making out with him for the first time in these circumstances should feel wrong... but it only builds up more sensations in your lower belly, a treacherous emptiness, and an almost unfamiliar fire.

Your hands awkwardly find his back, and the need to press him against your face, to demand more, to extract more from those luscious lips is interesting. There is no more distance to close between the two of you, but you want to crush yourself against his labored chest until becoming one.

The moment ends quickly as you gasp for air, and trying to recover, a sultry Indra, who grins viciously seductive overpowers your gaze.

“I’ll introduce you to a thing or two...”

Before you comprehend what his words mean, the position changes again, and his two knees are one on either side of your head. He looks even more terrifying from this angle than in everyday life, and you don’t venture to peek at his dick. Two of his fingers slide across your lower lip, caressing your cheek, and suddenly squeeze your face harshly. Your mouth is forced open, but when his cock slides over your tongue and you understand the functionality of the pose, you ease back.

Your lack of experience was driving him crazy, and rather than loosening him up, you were upsetting him further. Managing the matter with his own hands, or rather with his own hips, Indra finds peace again.

Rising to height, one of his palms cradles your face, while the other supports himself against the wall. You try to find stability by holding onto his thighs, and as he buries himself lower in your mouth, sensations in your body become almost unbearable, coupled with his movements.

Indra is kind at first, gradually pushing into your inexperienced cavity slowly, closing his eyes tightly and fighting the urge to destroy your mouth.

Yet when your jaw relaxes completely, grasping the rhythm and feel of the situation, he lets go. The beast is finally released, and the Otsutsuki fucks your lips with abandon, hitting the end of your throat with each thrust. His hips move with agility, and imagining him between your legs with the same surrender and strength makes you hold on.

Tears decorate your cheeks and eyelashes, blending with the saliva dripping from your mouth every time that cock lunges at your face. Indra becomes completely abstracted, tilting his head back as deep growls rise from deep within his chest.

When air is inevitably needed and you can no longer avoid gagging, you repeatedly slap his thighs, drawing his attention. He leans his forehead against the wall and holds your face with both hands, withdrawing his dick from your throat and catching his breath with difficulty. His gaze is fixed on you, and although you could probably look better, you feel really appreciated under those red eyes.

The fluids from your mouth completely soaked your chest and cheeks, your clothes are soaked, and at the sight, the Otsutsuki slides his fingers across your wet skin, then strokes his shaft twice.

When you catch your breath, you place a kiss on the head which has been hitting the back of your throat for minutes, showing he may continue.

Without a second thought, he burrows deeply into your mouth, reaching a depth he hadn’t hit before. The grunt he exhales makes your skin crawl, and you really want to see him enjoy you like this for the rest of your life.

He gives you time to breathe again, and his thrusts become more shallow, seeking more contact with the softness of your tongue and the warmth of your cheeks. It isn’t long before his length is completely out of your cavity and he works it rapidly, seeking the longed-for finish. You’re not sure what you should do, so you simply watch him, amazed at the size of his hands.

After a few seconds, several white shots paint your face, staining your hair and chest, leaving practically nowhere without even a drop. It’s unexpected, but satisfying.

[whatanoof]

I have a few corruption ideas in mind for cal and I'm just. Okay so like-- reader grinding on/teasing him, maybe while they're hiding in a cave or an empty room in an inquisitor base-- purposefully to the point where he can't hold himself back and he just cums right then and there 👀

Or-- reader accidentally projecting some very, very dirty thoughts towards Cal (bonus points if it's virgin!/inexperienced!Cal), and his reaction to said thoughts ;3c

Don't feel obligated to turn these into full fics or anything tho!! I just like to share my thoughts w ppl and see what they think abt it 🥰💛

SKDJFO THESE ARE GOLD I LOVE THEM.

Oh babe, this isn’t an obligation. This is my PLEASURE. Don’t mind me with my slightly force sensitive reader learning how to weaponize her inexperience against her very innocent boyfriend.

A/N: These turned out a lot more fluffy than I had in mind at first, and probably more so than you had in mind, anon. I'll to expand a little more on these, but I wanted to give you what I have now. More to come!

NSFW TOWARDS THE END 18+

You were two weeks into your relationship the first time it happened. It’s early morning on Bogano, the rare off-day where Cal doesn’t have to take a quest anywhere. The grass glistens in the early morning light, dew droplets sending sparkles of light through the air. You sit in the field, watching the sunrise with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a steaming mug of caf clenched tightly in your hands, gracing your morning with its fragrant smell. Happy chirps and beeps echo through the stillness of the morning as BD-1 scampers around the field, chasing a butterfly that’s been disturbed from its early morning food quest. It’s so domestic that it almost hurts. It reminds you of life before the Purge, when everything was better. Except, now you have Cal.

Not beside you of course, he’s actually the reason that you’re even awake to see the dawn. He stands stock-still in the grass several meters in front of you. He’s relaxed, breathing in the crisp dawn air, eyes closed against the rays of light beginning to conquer the horizon line.

Cere stalks back and forth in front of him, “Focus, Cal.” She hefts a round fruit in her hands about as big as her head. “Sense the life around you. What do you feel?”

Cal pivots slowly on the spot until he’s facing you. “I feel you. And her.” His brow is creased in that one spot between his eyebrows. You want to kiss it. 

“Not us, Cal. The life all around us. There’s a reason I chose Bogano for this lesson.” Cere’s disapproving tone is a common staple around here. The crew has learned to accept it as a sign of affection.

“A bogling. On the ship. It’s looking for food.” Cal says.

You smile. The newest addition to the crew has been nothing but a joy to you and a pain in the ass to Greez. It’s always stealing his favorite snacks and making a mess of his ship, if you count it’s tiny nest in the corner of the kitchen to be ‘a mess’. 

“Better. Expand, Cal.”

Then you feel something at the edge of consciousness, something familiar and strange all at the same time. It wasn’t so much a thing, but a feeling. A presence. If you had to describe it in words, you couldn’t. But if you had to try, it would be in swaths of color and emotions that blend and swirl in the invisible eye of your mind. It’s warm, reds and oranges and yellows fluttering against each other, tinged around the edges by blue, the same blue as Cal’s saber. Cal. The presence is undeniably Cal, the warm colors echoing back to his fiery spunk and stubborn affection. 

Your eyes open. When had they closed? Cal is right there, his hand stretched out in your direction. Cere watches cautiously, eyes flicking between you and him. You see her reluctance to interrupt the moment. 

As if called back to the ground by your distraction, Cal opens his eyes with a soft gasp. The presence retreats, fading from your short grasp as you try to chase it. Your gaze bores into Cal, trying to focus your mind on reaching back out to him. But you can’t.

Cere speaks, “That’s enough Force training for today.” She tosses the previously forgotten fruit directly at Cal’s head. “Think fast. Form V today.”

His lightsaber materializes into his hand, cleanly slicing the offending object out of the air in a single smooth motion. But Cal doesn’t hesitate for a single moment, flowing through different saber forms without difficulty. Cere calls a variety of commands, and each gives way to another attack by Cal. The saber moves like it is an extension of his body, like a deadly serpent that flickers in and out of the air.

This continues for a long time, long enough that you have time to finish off your caf. The drink warms your insides. Watching Cal working so hard to strengthen his connection to the Force warms your heart. Examining the definition of his shoulders and his muscular torso warms other places. Your eyes drift to his ass, emboldened by the illusion of ignorance. You allow your mind to drift. 

You and Cal started dating two weeks ago. There was an irresistible pull between the two of you, to the point where the crew forced you two to acknowledge it. Cal had been cautious, but permission from Greez and a blessing from Cere was all the encouragement he needed, because as he had said so eloquently, “Like you. I like you. A lot.”

And you like Cal. A lot. Nothing physical had happened beyond a single makeout session and more cuddle sessions than you could count. You know that he’s unsure about sex, and because of that you’re more than willing to wait for him to be ready. But that doesn’t mean you can’t look and daydream. 

Your gaze drags over his body, imagining for a moment how it would feel. What it would be like, to be allowed close to him to make him feel good. What his skin would taste like, how your fingers would feel threaded through his bright hair. The sounds that he would make as you go down on him. 

A gasp from the field snaps you out of the daydream. Cal’s facedown on the ground; all you can make out of him from here is the fringe of his poncho and his shock of red hair contrasting against the green environment of Bogano. You stand, hurrying over as Cere helps him up.

“Cal?” She's concerned, you can see it in her eyes even if she won’t verbalize it. You’re worried too. In all of your time aboard the Mantis, you’d seen clumsy Cal maybe once before, and that was because he was goofing off in an attempt to make Greez laugh.

He doesn’t respond to Cere. His gaze snaps up to you, and he says your name urgently. Your brow creases, “What?”

His face is flushed red, and he’s panting as he shakily kneels in the grass. “I think you’re Force-sensitive.”

---

“No.”

“Come on, it’ll be easy!” He looks so earnest, like a kicked puppy dog. You avert your eyes. Looking too long means that you will fall prey to the terrible innocent eyes.

“I said no. What’s so hard to understand about that?” You cross your arms tighter over your chest. You know that arguing is futile. Cal is the most stubborn person you know, even more so than Greez and you have witnessed the intense food aggression.

“Babe, it’s one rock. You’re not going to get hurt.”

“I might when it’s going to be flying at my face!” Cere had insisted that you learn to control your Force sensitivity, at the very least so that you could learn how to guard your mind from others. But, she placed Cal in charge of your training. Merrin’s Force abilities were nothing close to what you could hope to accomplish, and you believe Cere’s exact words were, “It will be good for Cal to learn just how irritating training a Padawan can be.”

And so your Jedi boyfriend became your Jedi Master. It was quickly determined that your Force sensitivity was nothing close to the level of Jedi. Your talents extended to thought projection, minor thought detection abilities, and, as Cal had been so excited to learn, basic telekinesis. 

That had been an accidental discovery, actually, brought out of a session wrestling with the Mantis’s control board wiring. You’d lost concentration for a split second, and in a flash of light and electricity, you were nursing a burnt finger. Merrin was attracted to your area by the flash of light and pained cry, and was incredibly surprised to find you with various medical supplies hovering in front of your face while you soaked and bandaged your finger. And she’d snitched on you.

So now you’re on a no name forest planet, facing down your boyfriend who’s threatening to throw a rock at your head in order to force out your hidden telekinesis, because as soon as Merrin witnessed the feat, you’d lost all voluntary control over it.

“Cal, this is a bad idea.”

“Do you have a better one?”

“Yes. Leave me alone. I can shield my thoughts now, that’s all I wanted to do.”

“Oh come on. It doesn’t excite you even a little?”

It does, but not enough that you’d be willing to have a rock thrown at your face. You roll your eyes and throw your hands up, “I’m going back to the ship.”

But as soon as you turn, something sparks on the edge of your conscious mind, and you whirl with an outstretched hand. The rock sails past your fingers and bonks you on the forehead. You clap a hand over your head as pain throbs at the point of contact. “Ow!”

You whip your head up and glare at Cal, who’s standing there, mouth agape and eyes so wide that you can see the whites from here. When he meets your eyes, he shrinks back and turns to run.

“Cal Kestis you are going to pay for that!” You lunge after him, nearly tripping over a root as you scramble after your soon-to-be dead boyfriend. 

He disappears around the corner of the clearing with you hot on his heels. Trees tower over your head in every direction. The only thing interrupting the perfect vision of nature is the dorsal fin of the Mantis spearing up into the sky, guiding you to safety.

And Cal’s running away from it, leading you further into the forest. Branches whip at your face, but you can’t pay attention to them when you’re focusing harder on not losing Cal as he ducks and weaves through the foliage with all of the ease of a jungle cat. Then you round a corner, and he’s gone. 

You’re gasping for breath as you stumble to a stop in the midst of the forest. Damn it Cal. You want to rest, but you’ll be damned if you’re going to allow Cal to get away with this. He knows that if he gets away now, you’re probably going to be cooled down by the time he gets back to the Mantis, and you can’t have that. You tamp down your anger. Gather yourself. Feel the world around you. Now hold it at arms’ length. You bring your mental shields up slowly, guarding yourself and calming your racing heart through a few deep breaths. Then, you let the barriers down, allowing the world to rush back into your mind. You exhale slowly, combing through the sensations like Cal had taught you, searching for the presence that had become so familiar over the past few months. There!

A flash of warm colors in the midst of the muted Force signatures of plants.

You whirl, scanning the tree branches above you in time to see Cal make a break for it. He’s overhead, about ten feet off of the ground and running along a tree branch so gracefully that it seems like he’s skimming across the air. He’s heading for a vine. ‘Sneaky little--’

‘Sneaky little what?’

You gasp as he teases back through the Force. Your brow sets in determination, and you narrow your gaze on the vine that he’s reaching out for. You settle on it, and reach out. Your consciousness brushes the vine, pulling it just out of Cal’s reach. His outstretched fingers close just short of the vine, and he loses his balance.

He hits the ground with an oof and you plant a foot on his chest. “Sneaky little laserbrain.”

“Babe you did it!” He grins up at you, unrepentant and ruffled from the mad dash through the forest, “Don’t you love your amazing boyfriend who just helped you to learn another Force trick?”

You smile, “I do. But--” you press harder on his chest with your boot, “--you’re still going to pay for that.”

He groans, “I just paid by falling out of a tree. How else would I make it up to you?”

Without your bidding, ideas leap to your mind. “Oh, I have some.” Cal, between your legs and making you cum with only his mouth. You, on your knees for Cal against one of these trees. Riding Cal back on the Mantis, topless and gasping his name as he brushes up against that one spot inside of you that makes you sing. You don’t project them, but you’re aware that your shields aren’t up, and Cal’s Force presence is hovering on the edge of yours.

Cal’s face reddens as he gapes up at you. All of this time, and he still gets worked up at the bare idea of you naked. It’s a little cute. He springs to his feet, “Let’s go back to the ship.”

You hum, looking at him thoughtfully, ‘We don’t need to go back to the ship for a couple of those.’

He chokes, and you smile as you grab the front of his poncho and back him against a large tree. This is going to be fun.

[alarriefantasy]

Hi, all! So it seems that the wonderful AO3 user - objectlesson - aka on tumblr as - horsegirlharry - has sadly deleted their fics. I have only a few saved in my files, but there are some I would really love to possess, if anyone has them? I would really appreciate it if you would message me and let me know! :)

Also, I am posting the whole list of amazing stories they shared for our fandom, and I am marking (with an asterisk*) the ones that I have myself, in case anyone else would like them too! <3

Silver White Winters

by objectlesson

In which Louis catches a cloud and pins it down.

Words: 5106, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

I Must Confess (I Still Believe)

by objectlesson

Louis shrugs, eyes on the road. “You look cute in the blazer, too,” she says nonchalantly, and what the fucking fuck, what is Harry supposed to think?

“You probably do, too, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t even think you own one? Do you ever actually wear the entire uniform?” she asks, deflecting.

“Not since freshman year!” Louis boasts proudly. “They stopped giving me demerits because it’s, like, a lost cause. I literally haven’t seen my blazer in three years, I just borrow Veronica’s when I walk into Mass.” Her grin is very cheeky and bright, and she’s squinting in the sun, aviators pushed up into the overgrown auburn shag of her hair. The horizon is hazy and pink-orange as dark sneaks up on them, the air smelling of sprinkler water and BBQ smoke from people leaching the last warmth of October before summer’s gone for good. Harry feels alive with possibility, eyes watering as she smiles at Louis, unable to stop. She wrinkles her nose like it’ll somehow hide the way it looks on her face to be in love.

Or, Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl’s School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever.

Words: 44304, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Powerless (and I Don’t Care It’s Obvious)

by objectlesson

“Oh no, Lou, don’t make me laugh,” he whimpers. His Ribena-purple mouth twists into a glorious, breakable shape, and Louis’s heart stops. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet.

Words: 4090, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park

by objectlesson

The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse.

Words: 7556, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Life Saver

by objectlesson

Nerd Boy’s giant, dorky, adorable hand shoots into the air. Louis notices he has chipped red polish on a few of his nails and some tattered friendship-looking bracelets, like the sort you make in camp, and he might hear the distant chime of wedding bells. He thought he didn’t even believe in marriage because it’s, like, oppressive and heteronormative or whatever, but that was before Styles, Harry (Harry Styles!!! What an absurd, wonderful name! What a perfect thing to scrawl in the margins of all his notebooks surrounded in hearts!) appeared in the bio lab at his new school and ruined all his principles forever.

or, Louis is a sweetheart punk with a theater background and a heart of gold, Harry is an inexperienced nerd who plays by the rules. Classmates, lab partners, and eventually friends, what happens when Louis knows he’s in love, but doesn’t know how tell Harry?

Words: 14809, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Even Your Honey Dew

by objectlesson

It probably says something about Harry that he’s so obsessed with another omega’s arse.

Words: 9512, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

What a Heavenly Way To Die

by objectlesson

She’s thought about it a lot, and two big things seem to be holding her back, aside from the uncontrollable paralysis that overtakes her body every time she so much as tries to sneak a hand under the waistband of Harry’s knickers.

Or, Louis is afraid to do stuff to Harry, who has done a lot of stuff to her.

Words: 8052, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Firm Believer and a Warm Receiver

by objectlesson

a few months ago, Louis had his first heat. It was no big deal, aside from it being awkward and weird and all the other things it was supposed to be. He figured he would present as an omega, so he wasn’t exactly surprised or anything.

But then, last week, Harry had his first heat, too.

Or, the omega/omega sleepover fic no one asked for but y'all really, really need.

Words: 10895, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You’ll Know What Makes The World Turn

by objectlesson

Sometimes, when things are messy and they have more than a few weeks apart, they need the reminder. It’s comforting to have stars to map your course by.

or, Harry’s blue bandana is a day collar.

Words: 4624, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Sing You Butterflies

by objectlesson

Louis stares for a moment before some primal sympathetic force in him activates. He has to help this boy. He can hardly walk, and he seems so young (yet ageless, beyond age, like a sea turtle or a parrot or a tree or something else odd and magical), and on top of all that, he has body glitter clinging to his skin, like that roll-on stuff his sisters used to use as preteens, only pink-gold and twice as thick. It’s, like, professional grade. He’s also wearing grass- and dirt-stained pink silk women’s underwear, so maybe he’s from London. Maybe he’s a drag queen who crawled all the way from a nightclub in Soho just to save Louis from his horribly mundane and woefully heterosexual neighbours out here in the middle of nowhere.

or, Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap.

Words: 22701, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Holy

by objectlesson

She deserves not to be so goddamned put together all the time. Being in the world’s biggest and highest exposure girlband means she’s never seen without a flat stomach, a spray tan, contouring, eyelash extensions, the whole of her body inescapably toned and plucked and waxed so frequently she genuinely forgot what fucking color her own pubes are. Louis wants to eat burgers and smoke weed and be twenty three. She wants to wake up with Harry and spend the whole day in bed fingering each other because they finally don’t have to have goddamn acrylic nails for once. She wants to grow her pubes out. She wants to lounge around in a posh, red-velvet High Hefner robe.

Or, Louis is dressed like a fucking queen, Harry’s begging please.

Words: 6608, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only One I Dream Of: A Drabble Collection

by objectlesson

A collection of all the m/m One Direction drabbles and timestamps I’ve written on tumblr, so my readers on here aren’t missing out!

Words: 5164, Chapters: 5/13, Language: English

Diamonds in the Moonlight

by objectlesson

The 70s au where Harry is a rich girl stuck in the suburbs who thinks she loves Shaun Cassidy, and Louis is the skater who breaks into her backyard and changes everything forever.

Words: 16136, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

In the Heat of the Night

by objectlesson

“You’re sleeping with me, obviously,” Harry says then, pausing to regard Louis with a funny expression, nose wrinkled and brows drawn tight. “Don’t tell me you thought that I’d let you freeze out here!? Absolutely not! C’mon, the bedroom’s cozy, I dragged a space heater out.”

Louis wants to protest about as badly as she wants to sleep next to Harry Styles, which is a lot. Too much.

Or, Louis is the only butch in London with a truck and Harry needs to move a couch.

Words: 7726, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Once Upon a Dream

by objectlesson

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Words: 16643, Chapters: ½, Language: English

From Now Until Forever

by objectlesson

The girls go to Britney Nite and Louis wears Juicy track pants and Harry is not ok.

Niall takes the pint glass back from Harry and takes a swig, regarding her over the rim knowingly. “You’re nervous,” she observes with a grin. “Because you’re gonna get drunk at a gay bar with Louis, and you haven’t told her yet that you wanna marry her.”

“Oh, my god, stop,” Harry scolds, hiding her face in her hands, everything suddenly hot and shivery. “It’s not that,” she adds, even though it most definitely is.

“Then…you’re excited to see Louis in a schoolgirl skirt and bra? Covered in that body glitter that smells like cotton candy?” Niall presses, waggling her eyebrows, making Harry blush at the mere thought of Louis’s golden skin shimmering and sticky under club lights.

Words: 9223, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Hello, Heaven (you are tunnel-lined with yellow lights

by objectlesson

“Oh, yeah?” Harry asks, playing dumb as he helps Louis out of his coat before hanging it up. “A new phone charger? Mine’s still broken, the electrical tape didn’t work.”

Louis makes a face at him, all arched brows and tongue pressed into cheek. “Oh a phone charger? Is that what you need?” he quips lightly, voice high and lilting in this sing-song way that’s so, so high and gentle that it’s scary. He’s putting on a show for Harry, and Harry’s thrilled with it, already shivery and hot-cheeked because Louis got him something naughty, and they’re talking about it without really talking about it, wrapping it up in layers of mundanity and domesticity, still so excited to play the role of two Adults living in their new Adult flat in London that they bought with their own money from the X Factor. Harry’s living an unimaginably glamourous life so suddenly, and Louis and his gifts are right in the middle of it, the heart of his every dream.

Or, Louis buys Harry things sometimes.

Words: 2988, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Dream About That Casual Touch

by objectlesson

And that was the first thing Louis noticed about her. Not her nipples, or not only her nipples, anyway, but the fact that she was so confident with her body and didn’t seem to care that her tits were sort of soft and floppy and uneven or that she had a little roll of pudge around her hips that poked over the top of her jeans when she wore crop tops. She wore what she wanted to wear whether or not it was in fashion or technically even flattering; her hair was always messy, she only wore makeup half the time, and she seemed to like heeled boots even if she was already fairly tall and they made her tower over the boys. Louis always thought it was so fucking sexy how unconcerned Harry seemed with what people thought of her, how comfortable she was in her own skin. That by itself seemed like a sort-of gay thing, so Louis kept a remote, careful eye on her, hoping to one day see something else that blipped her radar.

Or, Louis and Harry fuck up two dates before they finally get it right.

Words: 7678, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Smoke Dreams from Smoke Rings

by objectlesson

“When I get a craving?” Louis says, “You have to help me chase it away. Distract me”

Oh. Harry can think of about one hundred different ways to distract Louis Tomlinson. One hundred better uses for his mouth, for example. “Erm,” he squeaks, well aware of the fact that he’s grinning and dimpling and blushing all at once, his whole face a suddenly mortifying warzone of transparent emotion. “How?”

“By hitting my arm as hard as you can,” Louis announces, holding out the arm in question. It bridges the gap between them, stiff and expectant, and Harry stares, not entirely sure if Louis’s being serious, if this is some prank that he isn’t clever enough to understand, or if the promise of touching Louis under any circumstances is so titillating that he just can’t process it. Louis rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie then, revealing his pale inner arm in maddening increments, pushing Harry somewhere between drooling and vomiting, he isn’t sure which. He just knows that his mouth is flooded, and the barely-there ghost of Louis’s veins through his skin is the prettiest thing that he’s ever seen. “Go on, hit me,” Louis orders. “Don’t be shy,”

or, Louis enlists Harry to help him with his bad habit.

Words: 18116, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Black Stars and Endless Seas

by objectlesson

Or, A Star Trek Original Series AU where Lt. Styles is a young science officer on his first away mission, and Louis is the headstrong ensign assigned to his security detail, and maybe they would be able to function together professionally in a normal setting, but not when their shuttlecraft crash-lands and they end up marooned together on an improbably and unfairly beautiful planet.

Words: 32246, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English

Rose Garden Dreams

by objectlesson

Harry thinks it’s a fever-induced delirium, at first. After all, she’s been sick in bed for a full forty-eight hours following the Best and Most Important beach trip of her entire life because fate is a cruel and jealous bitch who doesn’t want Harry to go on a date with the girl of her dreams.

or, Harry is sick and Louis comes to visit her.

Words: 9464, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Palms Reflecting in Your Eyes

by objectlesson

Harry visits Louis at his campus and finds a crop on the wall.

Words: 6496, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Wrap You Up in Daisy Chains

by objectlesson

Ten minutes later, an awkward, long-legged, curly-haired, so pale she’s reflective, and so obviously gay-looking Harry Styles is sitting shotgun next to Louis in a bikini, denim cut-offs, and heart-framed sunnies.

Or, Harry and Louis and a too-small bathing suit.

Words: 10613, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

To Keep the Night From Ending

by objectlesson

It doesn’t always feel real to kiss in the dark, Harry guesses. He wants it to feel real. He wants it to be the realest thing, burnt indelibly into his skin.

Or, Harry and Louis take a night swim.

Words: 5036, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Good Enough to Eat

by objectlesson

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

Words: 6722, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Grenadine Sunshine

by objectlesson

Harry’s only sixteen, it shows right now, and Louis wants…he wants so many things. He wants to taste the faint, sugary ghost of lip gloss, he wants to cup Harry’s face between his palms and swipe the shimmery wet shadows from beneath his eyes. He wants to show him everything he knows, even though he doesn’t know anything about this, about kissing boys or flirting with them or doing their makeup or even showing them it’s okay to want to wear makeup in the first place. Still, Louis just wants, wants and wants and wants. It’s what Harry does to him.

Words: 18067, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only Angel

by objectlesson

Louis pops his hip out, looking down at Harry from beneath the cut of his fringe sassily. “How do I look?”

Harry…Harry doesn’t have words, not really. He sits there on the floor with a half-hard cock, gazing up at this taller, scarier version of Louis with wide eyes. “Like I want you to spin-kick me in the face,” he admits after a moment, shakily inhaling. “You look…really good.”

Or, Louis finds a pair of heels that fit, and Harry wants to be ruined, as per usual.

Words: 6599, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Someone Who Knows How To Ride

by objectlesson

Harry gives Louis a lap dance. Or, at least, he tries to.

Words: 5114, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Copper Kiss

by objectlesson

Harry’s not allowed to fly back to the UK without marks to remember Louis by.

Words: 4604, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You Drive Me Crazy ( I Just Can’t Sleep)

by objectlesson

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Words: 18520, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Christmas Without You

by objectlesson

It’s Christmas Eve and Harry misses Louis so badly he might be going little crazy.

Words: 5639, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Vinyl and Lace

by objectlesson

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn’t think it’s very funny.

Words: 7541, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Touch of My Hand

by objectlesson

Words: 3104, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Tour Bus Sex, Bus Sex, PWP, Up All Night Tour, Uan era, Canon Compliant, baby boyfriends in love, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Established Relationship

Born to Make You Happy

by objectlesson

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

Words: 25662, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Taste of a Poison Paradise

by objectlesson

Louis notices Harry’s mouth right away.

Words: 9894, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Little Love (is better than none)

by objectlesson

It’s supposed to be no strings attached sex, but Harry’s in love with beauty and tragedy and Louis Tomlinson so there might actually a few strings they’re not talking about.

Or, alternately, the four times they fuck and don’t kiss, and one time they fuck and do (with a few more times thrown in because I’m a mess and know how to write short fics).

Words: 15074, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Take Me Under the Blue

by objectlesson

Louis hasn’t even seen his legs yet. He doesn’t know how they work or how long they’ll be. Maybe they won’t suit the rest of Harry at all, and he’ll have to grow into them or something. It doesn’t matter; Louis has loved Harry for a year with scales, so he can’t imagine wonky legs putting a damper on his attraction. 

He supposes he’ll just have to find out. In the meantime, he wonders how the fuck he got here, in his squelching wellies about to save the love of his life from the sea and take him to bed and bang him for the very first time.

It’s sort of a long story.

Words: 19011, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

[cantillat-moved]

@gemviribus​ ❝who did this to you?❞ // Tamako to Archer?

The scent of the morning dew after a rainy night permeated the air along with the freshly brewed tea, bringing him a sense of nostalgia. It has been a couple days since his summoning, yet it feels like that he always belonged there – perhaps it was due to the unusual circumstances, an irony that wasn’t lost on him: he only became a Heroic Spirit due to the existence of the Holy Grail War, a survivor of the forth and a participant of the final conflict both as a Master and as a Servant; now summoned as the very first Archer in the very beginning. Destiny certainly has a twisted sense of humor, he thought upon the realization, but it was a good thing; with his knowledge of the system, the nameless spirit could shed some light on its workings to the woefully inexperienced Masters.

Once again summoned by the Tohsaka. Once again concealing his past and identity. Once again making breakfast. But Tamako was no Rin. In all honestly, he was looking forward the development.

Carefully serving the tea and placing it in table in front of the Master, Archer held the pot silently. He had prepared a light breakfast whilst Tamako got ready to start the day, and it appears the magus decided to get started by asking something out of the blue.

❝who did this to you?❞

A sullen stillness bloomed, Archer’s confusion didn’t last very long. Normally, Servants can’t dream so they may be unaware of one of the side-effects of the contract.

❝ You had a dream, didn’t you? ❞ his grave voice inquired, soon to dismiss it ❝ It is unimportant, Master. You don’t need to concern yourself over it.❞

[ginnyzero]

Completely Harmless Ch. 54

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Fifty-Four CHILL-ax during Happy Horse Week!

The decorations were approved by other clubs while the few votes against them were roundly ignored. It helped that gave everyone a goodie bag and had a snack table set up with their treats and cups of apple cider mixed with ginger ale. The marble balloons had been turned into arches and pillars. She’d borrowed the flag banners from Jorvik Stable to show off what things would look like complete with hay bales.

The Councilman hadn’t been too happy about the hay bales, but Kate had promised to clean.

Everyone was relieved that Lily was okay. And they were more than willing to take shifts at the council house in order to help make the decorations they needed between breaks in training. Training that was more important than they realized.

In fact, it was Herman that clued Lily in as she waited her turn to run through the show jumping event set up in the Arena.

“Really looking forward to seeing all you girls at the County Fair this year,” he said with a big grin on his face. Leaning against the fence of the riding arena he looked almost lazy as he watched the girls.

Lily looked down at him and put a hand on her horse’s neck. “Herman, I think you’re forgetting that most of us have never lived here before. Or should I be asking Linda or Pauline?”

Herman glanced up, the grin didn’t fade. “Didn’t forget. Didn’t know you didn’t know.”

Lily rolled her eyes. Her stallion tossed his mane.

“There’s an eventing contest held at the County Fair every year. It’s the first qualifier for the Claymore Challenge. Every club comes and tries out. Course, last year, and the year before that, and the year before that, was just the Bobcats and the Bulldogz. Be nice to see them have a bit of competition.”

Lily’s brow furrowed. “But we’re collecting ribbons,” she said slowly drawing it out.

“Gotta train your horse and get it into condition so it knows what it’s doing. Practice is one thing, Lily girl, doing exhibition is another. The lights, the crowds, you don’t know how your horse is going to react. Depends on the crowd too.” Herman sucked his teeth. “Yep, some mighty fine riders in practice can’t make it through exhibitions.”

Lily pressed her tongue to her back teeth and looked off to the side as her brows furrowed. “Qualifiers,” she said after a few moments and not coming into any conclusions.

“Yep, helps me winnow it down. I know you’re all doing well in your ribbons. You can’t all go to the Claymore Challenge as much as I’d like to send you all. One Club per county. Thems the rules.”

Lily looked down at him. “I wasn’t given any rule list when I made the club. How many members are we allowed to have maximum anyways?”

“Fifty.”

Lily blinked. There went the plan to merge clubs to get around that pesky rule. “Well, we’re a bit beyond 100 people, Herman. I think we’re hitting closer to 200.”

Herman grinned. “And you wouldn’t believe how proud I am of that, all of you choosing to leave Moorland and form clubs to help out the district. Brings a tear to me old eyes, it does.”

Lily snorted. She shifted her attention. Tracey rode around the track keeping her posture upright as her stallion took the turns.

“You’re doing good things,” Herman rocked back and forth on his feet.

“If you say so,” Lily glanced back at him.

“You don’t think so?”

“I think I’m doing what needs to be done whether it’s good or bad, I can’t say.” Lily gripped the reins in her hands turning them over between her fingers. “I’m doing the best I can or we are, or I hope we are. One never knows. You have a lot of things you don’t tell newcomers, like, qualifiers being at the County Fair.”

Herman chuckled. “You’re revitalizing this county.”

“You didn’t need me for that, you just needed to act.”

“Mrs. X of CHILL wants to meet you,” Herman said.

“Fancy that,” Lily said in a dry voice. “I’m not surprised.”

“Alone.”

“Of course,” Lily murmured. “Because what other way do you meet the leader of a secret organization that,” she paused. “What does CHILL do?”

“Put nails in the road for G.E.D.,” Herman said.

“Your horse idioms are so lovely, Herman,” Lily said. “Where is she?”

“Observatory 12 in Epona.”

Lily backed her stallion away from the fence. “And let me guess, she wants to see me as soon as possible.”

“You know how this works.”

“Way too many crime shows, way, way too many.”

Herman laughed.

“How cliché can you get?” Lily muttered and nudged her horse into a trot. The nearest transport to the Observatory was in Crescent Moon Village she thought. Hillcrest and the Dews Farm in Epona were getting transports set up still. Hillcrest’s was in need of a major repair since someone had tried to use the truck to ram the wall. (It hadn’t worked.)

She took the transport to Crescent Moon Village and went directly down the road through the Marsh and up the side of the mountain to the Observatory perched on the edge of the Cauldron opposite of Hillcrest.

Dismounting, she opened the huge doors of the observatory a crack and slipped inside.

It wasn’t as dark as she’d thought it be. Sunlight streamed in through the small windows illuminating the place.

“I’m glad you came,” Mrs. X said from the middle of the room. She smoothed the skirt of her ankle length green dress, but a deep hood obscured her face.

Lily stepped closer. Mrs. X’s face was also covered with a mask. Crossing her arms, Lily stopped. “I don’t deal with people who hide their faces.”

“My identity is a closely guarded secret, one I’d like to keep that way.”

Lily pressed her lips together. “You’re either trying to recruit me. Or, you have a message for me. Spit it out one or the other.”

“You’ve impressed me.”

“Funny, you don’t sound impressed.”

“You’ve interfered with a major operation. Hillcrest is only a small part of the G.E.D.’s plans for the Harvest and Epona Districts. You’ve set me back months of work.”

“You, lady, are a vigilante.” Lily lifted a finger off of her arm. “You run around in the shadows not sharing information with the authorities, and causing more problems than you solve because you won’t work within the boundaries of the law.”

“The law has failed us.”

“So, Bernie Winterwell didn’t want to leave his house and was happy to be bribed. Was it a moral failing? Or is House of Winterwell in dire straits? Or is there another reason? I don’t know. I don’t care. If Baron Winterwell isn’t doing what you need to do, you go to Count Marchenghast.”

“He’s ill. The Countess is overwhelmed. They’re too young and inexperienced to handle the G.E.D.”

Lily’s lips parted. “Really? Because, Mrs. X., I’m what, sixteen, and I’ve handled them just fine by oh, seeing that they don’t have the proper paperwork or you know, put people in actual danger and taken this to the people in charge like the Rangers and the nobles who run this county and they’ve managed to take care of things with the information me and my girls have provided them. I do not feel that the people of Hillcrest are an acceptable sacrifice so you can try to stop the grander scheme and get the higher ups.”

“You are too young to understand.”

“I understand that right now you’re no better than the druids, most of whom, also wear hoods and also, who I will not have anything to do with unless they show their faces. Here’s my message to you, it’s the same one I gave to Elizabeth Sunbeam. You lead and take action instead of observing and waiting. You follow. Or you get the hell out of my way. The people of Hillcrest will not thank you for standing by and watching.”

“Jarlaheim is in great danger. You don’t understand how great.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes. We know. You remember Mayor Elaine. She was in Hillcrest. She knew what Ms. Drake was up to. Ms. Drake has been arrested. Given her lawyers, she probably won’t be in there for long. But it’s a good way to stall them and give time for Mayor Elaine to recover and take control over Jarlaheim.” Lily turned on her toe and grabbed the door. Pulling it open, she looked over her shoulder. “Come out of the shadows, Mrs. X, and into the light.” She walked out shutting the door gently behind her.

“People,” she said to her stallion.

He whuffled.

Lily mounted and turned him around down the mountain. “Vigilantism, peh.”

He nodded his head.

“Jarlaheim is in great danger,” Lily mocked. “Gee, you think? I mean, there aren’t four dig sites around the place, probably illegal dig sites, run by the G.E.D. if it’s not in great danger. Like, I don’t have girls in every stable and town and farm in this county by now. And do you know what we teenage girls like to do?”

He knocked his ear back seemingly interested.

“Share information. People might call this gossip. Because they only hear about who is dating who and who is fighting and what embarrassing thing happened to so and so this week. But there is important information among the trivia.” She patted his neck. “Sometimes, if the mare is fat, it’s not that she’s actually fat, she’s pregnant.”

He whinnied.

“Exactly, you get it.” Lily let him trot down the road. “Diabolical corporations. Aliens. Witches. Ghosts. Aliens running diabolical corporations. Druids. Chipmunks and squirrels as spies. Magic horses. Now vigilantes.”

He nodded his head.

“Nahnahnahnahnahnahnah, Batman!”

Her horse whinnied again.

She quieted as she got out of the marsh and into the village. She hummed “Spider-man, spider-man, does whatever a spider can,” under her breath as they passed Hayden’s house.

She took the transport back to Jorvik Stables.

When Herman asked her how it went, she replied with, “It went.”

--

The decorations were ready in time for Happy Horse week, if barely. Barney had helped them by using the vinyl wall art to make plywood versions of the horse silhouettes with his wooden scroll saw. He’d also made them horse heads to vary up the horse shoes and hang their smaller horse garlands from. They weren’t allowed to touch his saw. They could lose fingers if they weren’t careful. Plus, he was making the silhouettes five or six at a time to save time. Each stable and town had at least one of each galloping, show jumping, and dressage silhouette. Carney Summers had been busy making race signs for everyone.

But everything was painted, glittered, glued together, whatever needed to be done in time to decorate for the week. Metal and plastic buckets had ribbons and bows on them. Plastic helmets also had bows and rhinestones and gold trim. They wrapped fancy striped ribbons in Jorvik national colors around every extra haybale they were strewing about for decorations. (And handy seating for the tired parents.)

So, the day before Happy Horse Week was also busy instead of training, they were decorating and making sure everything was out and just so. They’d put together plenty of snacks for the tables and had decided that mint candies went in predominantly blue favor cones, and granola went in predominantly green favor cones.

Putting together the selfie walls had been a bit easier now they were at the third time around. They used the triangular and horse shoe garlands to drape the circle. Put plenty of championship ribbons on the upper left hand side. Put together a pillar or arch out of marble balloons and made sure there were hobby horses and stuffed plushies (fresh from Fort Pinta) out for people to use as props.

Agnetha has pursed her lips at the arches of balloons in front of the rose archway and on each side of the bandstand, but she hadn’t said anything dire.

Thinking ahead, they set up the pavilion so people could decorate their own buckets and helmets if they wanted to do so. They even had championship ribbons for name badges.

They had to rearrange the jumps in the riding arena. (That gave them time to decorate it.) Though the Rose Arches remained firmly in place. And put together the special race tracks for the cross country races through the grape fields.

It was a good thing that they had extra decorations and banners, because just in time for Happy Horse Week, the Silverglade Oval Track was ready to open and it needed to be decorated as well.

Pia and Ingrid sent pictures of the Art Show and Flea Market respectively. Everything was horse themed! Pia had plenty of exclamation points. She never asked for it to be that way!

They had to help transport the cake from Ma Anna’s Pastry Shop in Firgrove all the way to Moorland. They transported it in separate tiers thank goodness, but they still wanted an escort for some reason. When it was put together, the bottom three tiers were sold colored, there was a blue tier, a green tier, and a white tier. Then the top two tiers, one had stripes, and the smallest was white with green and blue polka dots. They stuck a large golden harp in the top of it as a topper.

The tables for the Moorland feast were set out. And there were extra tables so they could set out the grab bags, horse masks, party hats, and horse ears for the kids. The Farmer’s Market bustled with happy people who were more than happy to put up another tent for the Carnival games of bobbing for apples, pig pen, horse shoes, hobby horse races, and pin the tail on the horse. They had a special spot for the pinatas (and plenty of them.) And a booth all set up so everyone could get their face painted.

Realizing they’d forgotten prizes for said games, Kate and her club ran to Jorvik City to get more of the prizes like they had in the grab bags. (Because why not try to collect them all, according to Regina. She was roundly reminded, again, that this wasn’t Pokemon!)

The Timber Wolves escorted Andy’s petting zoo down and helped him set it up at the same time they brought down the cake.

It was quite the whirl of activity.

No one was sure who exactly hid the Golden Horse Shoes, only, that they were hidden.

So, everyone was excited the first day of Happy Horse Week, despite the fact that they’d had to make a schedule so there were people minding the races, giving beginning riding lessons, doing the lunge informational event, the craft pavilion, and the snack booth.

“Where do we want to go first?” Was the biggest question. Firfall was having a jousting demonstration at their medieval fair. There was the County Fair to check out too with all the food, and booths, and games, and they had to keep an eye on the competition up there with the eventing qualifiers. Or, they could go to Moorland and get a slice of carrot cake or apple spice cake (or both) and go straight to the Farmer’s Market to do games there. Or, they go to Fort Pinta and grab Token Takes Jorvik, buy a horse plushy if they didn’t already have a stuffed lovie of their own and start on the different challenges, plushy vacation pictures, Andy’s Geocaching, and Hayden’s Spider Hunt.

More than a few of them though were bowing out of Hayden’s Spider Hunt.

“No thank you,” they said.

They knew they’d see all of it. It was a matter of did they want to watch a pie eating contest at the County Fair or not? There was going to be a demonstration of a flat track oval race too that sounded interesting. They all agreed that they wanted to see the horse rubber duck race. That sounded too funny not to see.

The last day was the Light Ride.

It was with light hearts that they made their schedule and took to explore the county during Happy Horse Week. (They had Golden Horseshoes to find!) The first place they had to go was the Silverglade Oval Track ribbon cutting ceremony!

--

Loretta shifted her weight on top of her white stallion, the pink of her showjumping jacket setting off her fair complexion. Lily cynically thought that was the reason why the Bobcats colors happened to be pink. Loretta looked good in it. Loretta glanced over at her. “What are you doing here?”

Lily tugged down the sleeves of her own showjumping jacket, light purple. (Thought she’d the option of a dark purple or mulberry color.) “Same as you, I suspect. Claymore Challenge qualifiers.”

Loretta’s eyes widened. “No. No. You can’t. Your clubs are too,” she trailed off.

“Too what? We’ve qualified. We’ve earned the ribbons.” Lily looked down her nose at her. Had Loretta forgotten about the fact that more clubs meant more competition?

“You haven’t been around long enough to train your horses to be competition ready,” Loretta curled her lip. “You’ve been too busy doing other things.”

Lily leaned forward a bit resting her weight on her folded hands. “Not for the last month, month and a half. You don’t want to train for more than a couple hours every day and risk hurting the horse.”

“But you couldn’t have earned enough ribbons.”

Lily smirked at her. “I did.”

“That’s not right.” Loretta frowned.

“Take it up with Herman.” Lily shrugged. She tilted her head.

The Announcer’s voice rang out. “President of the Bobcats, Loretta.”

“You’re up,” Lily told her.

Rattled, Loretta nudged her stallion into a trot to take the arena.

Lily narrowed her eyes and watched. Either Loretta wasn’t as good as she claimed to be or Lily’s appearance as the next competitor after her had truly rattled her. She missed several jumps knocking down the bars.

When Loretta came off the field she looked furious. She stopped her horse by Lily. “If someone like you who isn’t even from Jorvik keeps me from going to the Claymore Challenge again,” she started.

“Again?” Lily raised a brow. “Last I checked the rules, Jorvik citizenship wasn’t required to compete, only belonging to a Riding Club in Jorvik in good standing.”

Loretta sucked her cheeks in and trotted off. “I won’t be defeated.”

Lily watched her go and put a hand on her horse’s neck. “And President of the Silverglade Equestrian Center’s Silver Drakes, Lily,” The Announcer said.

Lily squared her shoulders. She had an event to do. She could wonder who had beat out Loretta last time. Lisa. Linda. Or Anne?

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.