#dipping my toes into writing

[rufusahhahh]

Sorry guys for not posting this week. But guess who wrote a short little rick shades x reader fic

Besides for a small journal from my old shitty deviantart when I was 8 I haven't written fanfic for the public ever at all, so i hope you guys like my writing!! :O

[zan0tix]

ALPHA KIDS: Draw your best friends!

DIRK: I'd say I'm better at one on one character interaction work of the more intimate variety, but I think this piece came together nicely. DIRK: Fun for the whole family style wholesomeness, any motherfucker in the radius of a screen displaying this image will instantly get hit with a sore case of heartburn and their tear ducts will clock in overtime at the weeping factory.

ROXY: im so proud of these i think these are my best designs yet :3 but omg dirk callie and jake were SOOO peculiar about their damn designs over my shoulder. jake wanted me to clarify that even in pink pen form his little guy is BLUE. so there. sigh this is the one occasion they could take notes from janey.. JUST LET LE ARTIST WORK!

JANE: Boy! I don't draw often but I always was fond of calligraphy growing up. I was kind of inspired by all of the other's works, but especially Calliope's swirls she puts in her art. It's very fun to add!

JAKE: Im not quite the best with posing, but i find the head very fun to study! Especially skulls.. so good ole calliope makes for the perfect muse! (hehe)

CALLIOPE: i realized i hadn't ever made a piece with Us in the same place at once. u_u CALLIOPE: bUt since it's reality now here's all of Us together, United at last! ^u^

==->

[tempfrangit]

doe-eyed

Johnny x F!Reader, 1.4k, 18+ smut summary: You're going to let some alpha fuck you because you're broke and just happened to get the call. Thank you for your service. inspired by @syoddeye's rut kinktober fill cw: omegaverse, breeding kink, technically dubcon because heat/rut? banners by @/cafekitsune

The alpha’s scent sends a tingle straight down to your pussy. It was clean and sharp, like pine, but charred at the edges in a way that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end deliciously. Your pre-heat is finally settling. You'd been able to smell him from the first moment you stepped out of the SUV, totally thrown off by your surroundings.

Like a fox let loose for the hounds to chase.

Of course, you'd been prepared for this, even if it was your first time being called. You'd willingly chosen to sign up for this job after your degree left you in debt past your means, even after graduation, while you worked two jobs.

Still, you don't expect the door to rip itself open as you approach the cabin, spine stiff as an iron rod. A gasp escapes as you freeze. The entire speech you've been coached through leaves your head in an instant as you blink up at him owlishly.

He's big, stocky like a rugby player with a surprisingly straight nose for the energy he exudes. A real alpha, not like the ones you'd messed around with in uni, testing the waters but never taking the plunge, not wanting to be just some omega. Part of you wants to run. But most of you can't help how your heartbeat quickens. How you can feel yourself get wetter.

You don't even know when he'd slung you over his shoulder, trudging back to the cabin like this was the same shit every day. And for all you knew it was.

Once the door's shut, you're set onto your feet and pressed against the hard wood. He grinds against your clothed pussy like a beast, hot breath puffing against your protective collar with an edge of distaste as his hands snake up the skirt of your dress.

An ice rock of unexpected shame forms in the pit of your stomach, and you've never been more embarrassed in your life. You’d assumed you’d been chosen because you were close to your heat, but the lack of approval cut deep.

“Off,” he snarls, and before you can even to offer to remove your panties you feel the pinch of them being pulled and digging into the soft meat of your hips before the fabric tears.

This time you stop yourself from gasping, swallowing it back. You force yourself to lean against the door, bracing against your forearms, doing your best to present like this, deep arch already making your back ache dully. To be the perfect little submissive omega.

His approving rumble of a purr makes you shiver, pressing your cheek against the cool door as you ease back into situation. Or maybe that's your heat finally rearing it's head, as his scent washes over you. Vaguely, you hear the rustling of fabric, but even the thought of the sound leaves your brain as you feel the tip of his cock slide against your slit. Your slick helps the glide of his next thrust. The feeling of his thick cock fucking between your pussylips has you shudder. A soft whine leaves your lips, properly needy as you grind against him.

That earns you a swat, a slight growl of appreciation. "Tha’s right, doe. Ya want it, don’t ya?"

And you nod, face burning at the admission. Of course, you can't turn down the opportunity to peek over your shoulder to get a better look at the guy who's gonna be fucking you.

If you'd run into him at a club, you would have let him take you home. His eyes are the prettiest blue you've ever seen, thick dark lashes framing them, and near feverish with his rut. Thick dark hair shaved into a mohawk, stubble growing on his jaw. Part of you kinda hopes he’ll knock you up. Oh — oh you’re definitely thankful your heat's hitting you but you do not want to entertain that. Still, you can feel slick dribbling out of you, know that your scent flares.

A sharp inhale is your only warning before he tilts his hips, notching the thick head of his cock against the opening of your pussy and burying himself to the base.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush, brain blue screening as you try and fail to comprehend how utterly full you are suddenly. When he begins to thrust without giving you a moment to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips back into yours like a rutting beast, you can’t help the sound you make. Something guttural, animalistic in response as your body is rocked into the wood.

He wasn’t holding back at all, warm breaths huffing against your neck as he fucked into you. Again, you're trying to tilt your hips but this time it's to get him to thrust against just the right spot. He was good. He had to know he was good, because holy fuck.

You don't even realize the high pitched whining sound that you'd been hearing was coming from you, until another crack of pain on across your ass shocks you back into your body. You'd been too focused on all the places he'd been hitting inside you, as he jackhammers his hips, and your face is burning.

No, you were burning up in general. The delicious heat that licked through you each time he thrust into you entirely made your legs feel weak. The hot breaths panting against the base of your neck, the wispy curls hairs there, sends electricity down your spine. The edge of a tooth presses against your jaw and it startles you so much you come.

And even spasming on his cock, he doesn't stop.

“Johnny," Johnny growls into your ear, thrusts turning urgent, "call me Johnny and tell me to knock yer cunt up.”

You're pretty sure you follow his orders as he keeps fucking you.

You know you beg him for his knot, and that earns you a snarl. Pain rips through your pleasure as you feel the soft skin of your back break. Just below your collar. Your thighs are shaking as you come again.

You're too hot.

Blinking awake groggily, you realize you don't remember making it to the bed last night.

Johnny had fucked you against the door upon your arrival, then on the floor after he caught his breath, cradling you on your side as his knot had kept you close to him. Then he'd seemed to have calmed down enough to come to his senses. He'd gulped down water, pressing his lips against yours to force some into your own mouth, and keeping yourself hydrated hadn't even occurred to you. You hadn't realize how thirsty you were as your heat ebbed slightly, still feeling like you were warm to the touch as you panted against his chest. Then he'd fucked you over the arm of the couch. Which you'd surely ruined after squirting down it. You hadn't even known you could squirt like that.

At the thought of water, you untangle yourself from the human furnace that's wrapped around you. Prying his fingers off your arm as gently as you can before you practically fall out of bed.

You're not too proud to drink out of the bathroom faucet, too relieved by the cool liquid pouring into your mouth to care. Blinking at yourself in the mirror, you twist slowly, trying to get a good view of your back. Your collar was still safely in place, but the skin around the edge was decorated with marks, nips where he'd buried his teeth in you.

Why did that make you so wet?

You don't even notice him in the mirror, before thick arms are wrapped around you and you squeak, jumping but being held firmly in place by the alpha you'd spent the night getting your brains fucked out by.

“Fuck, you smell better than I remember,” his breath tickles your ear as he sniffs at you, rumble in his voice as he begins to rub his stiffening cock against the fat of your ass.

“Better?” You breath the question, spreading your thighs enough that you can grind back against him. While you don't fully understand, you're not about to let the warmth that's sparking in your belly.

“When I picked you months ago,” Johnny breathes between tracking kisses along your jaw, “knew you were it fer me when they gave me yer scent sample. Take this fuckin' thing off, bonnie, lemme bite you 'n' breed you 'n' give you everythin' you want.”

Maybe you are like every omega, pleased to be chosen by a big alpha who can pick you up like you're nothing, fuck you full. What's wrong with that?

You're fingers pull desperately at your collar, trying to work it loose as fast as you can.

[stellewriites]

Hii! Can you do ghoap x reader fluff? Like cuddles with mild flirting (from soap, obviously) and like soap is the little spoon, because in return he gets head scratches in return, reader in the middle, and Simon as the big spoon just pressing his face into the crook of readers neck?

Would rlly apreciate it <3

-🌑

i loved this idea when i read it and then proceeded to take far too long to actually answer it lmao BUT!! here it is,, ghoap x fem!reader fluff - ty for the request 💓

you picked up the cheap jar of pasta sauce and compared it to the branded version stacked next to it. as far as you could tell, the ingredients were the same and the little veg chunks included weren’t any smaller.

you nodded to yourself. it was decided, you weren’t paying two quid extra just for a name, fuck dolmio.

you looked higher to the top shelf and frowned when you saw the pasta had been pushed away from the edge and you’d be unable to reach it on your own.

“need a hand, dove?”

you turned to see a handsome man with a mohawk beelining towards you, his eyes tracing your frame with hot familiarity. without waiting for your response, he bullied his way into your space to reach over you for the pasta. barely stepping back, he handed you the pack and looked you up and down.

“thanks, stranger,” you said, holding back a laugh at his amused smile. you saw the moment he decided to play along.

“pretty skirt,” he said and nodded down to your bare legs peeking out beneath the denim.

“hm, my boyfriend got me it,” you said, a little teasingly.

“oh? and this boyfriend, he’s left ye all alone to do the shoppin’ has he?”

“no, he’ll be back soon. and he’s kinda protective, won’t be happy seeing me talking to other guys,” you said trying not to smile.

“ah’m no’ scared,” he scoffed, his own smile breaking out as he looked around the aisle eagerly for the aforementioned boyfriend.

“i don’t know, he’s pretty big and strong, wears a scary mask,” you said.

“aye? reminds me o’ my boyfriend,” he said and you finally giggled, leaning in to kiss him and giving up playing pretend.

“dove, they got their tiger bread in stock again,” simon said as he rounded the corner of the aisle and interrupting your kiss. “i ha’n’t ‘ad this in ages.” simon barely paused at the unexpected appearance of johnny, his eyes turning up in the corners as he smiled under his mask. “johnny, look, tiger bread.”

“yeah, i seen, si,” johnny said fondly, crowding you back against the trolley. “only getting the one loaf?”

simon paused. “hm. you’re right.”

you snorted as he dropped the bread into the trolley before heading back to the bakery section and leaving the pair of you alone again.

“work was a fookin’ drag, dove, cannae stand all this paperwork they’re keepin’ me busy with,” johnny groaned into your temple. you petted his arm consolingly before turning back to your list and shopping trolley.

“you were injured less than a month back, john, you can’t have been expecting to be back in the field so soon?” you hummed as you continued shopping with johnny leant over your back.

his silence spoke volumes.

you shook your head as you made your way through the store and waved simon over as you passed him by, hoping he hadn’t harassed the bakery staff into making more tiger loaves last minute for him. the absolute fiend.

“wha’s wrong with him?” simon asked as he got back, hands full as he nodded to johnny’s slumped frame. you refrained from asking simon if you really needed three tiger breads and instead nudged your other boyfriend up from your shoulder.

“he’s bored,” you said easily, grinning when johnny pulled back properly to send you a betrayed look.

“fuck’s sake. c’mere,” simon huffed before dipping down to kiss him, chuffing a laugh as johnny sputtered at the woollen texture of the mask in between them. “you’ll be back in no time. just behave or it’ll be longer.”

“ye sound like cap,” johnny grimaced. he wiped a hand down his tired face. “when are we goin’ home, hm? fuckin’ knackered, could do with a nap before dinner.”

“y’drive ‘ere?” ghost asked while you grabbed a box of eggs, checking for any cracked inside.

“aye.”

“then you can leave whenever,” ghost said flatly, though the glint of his eyes in the overhead lights betrayed his amusement at johnny’s plight.

johnny pouted.

“yer cruel, si. tell him, dove, he’s heartless,” johnny bemoaned dramatically.

“you’re cruel and heartless, simon, would you prefer strawberry jam or raspberry for a change?”

“could be a treat,” ghost conceded.

johnny groaned at the both of you, pinching your hip when you laughed.

“you both know i cannae sleep without someone’s arms around me,” he huffed, turning his big puppy eyes on you both.

you caved immediately.

“aw poor baby,” you cooed, biting your lip when you saw simon roll his eyes. “let’s get this done quick then, yeah? go grab the burgers we like from the frozen section and that ice cream we got a couple weeks back.”

“yes, ma’am.” johnny jogged off.

“si, can i trust you not to make your way back to the bakery if i give you a list of items to grab?”

“no,” he admitted without shame. “i saw the lad in the back prepping more for tomorrow, think i could convince ‘im to cook ‘em now for me if given the time.”

“right. hand holding it is as we find the toiletries then. ‘s like herding cats with you two.”

simon hummed, his eyes trained on the section you knew the bakery to be hidden in.

—

once home, johnny packed away the majority of your shopping in record time, snatching the jam from simon’s hands and almost throwing it onto the work top before plying his mask up one handed and dragging him down into a rough kiss with the other. you watched, amused, with raised eyebrows as johnny dragged him back towards the bedroom desperately, waving a hand at you and gasping out a needy, “dove, c’mon, stop fucking around,” in between wet kisses.

you didn’t need to be told twice before attaching your hands onto simon’s thick waist from behind, guiding them from bumping into any furniture or walls as they stumbled blind to the bedroom.

johnny pulled back with a dopey smile and pushed simon none too gently onto the bed. you took advantage of his lowered height and pulled off his mask completely, rubbing a gentle hand over his buzz cut hair and down to his jaw. you leant in for a soft peck before feeling johnny’s hands and arms wrap around your soft stomach.

he clung to you, nuzzling at your cheek over your shoulder until you turned in his arms to share your attention.

you heard the bed creak as simon settled further up the bed as johnny kissed you. you shuffled back, parting from johnny just long enough to get your bearings and climb onto the bed, simon’s hands moving to guide you back as johnny hummed against your lips.

you flopped back into simon’s arms, got comfortable as he wrapped you up and held you tight against him.

johnny sighed in relief at the sight and shuffled down so he could rest his head on your chest.

you gathered him close and laughed when he started whining when your hands stayed on his shoulders.

“so needy johnny, have you ever heard the phrase ‘patience is a virtue’?” you teased as you started to run your nails through his hair, lightly scratching until he sighed and dropped his body weight against you and simon.

“too t’red,” he mumbled.

simon lifted his warm hand from your hip and draped it heavily over the back of johnny’s neck, keeping him close. soon enough, the scot was snoring.

you tried not to laugh, your chest bouncing johnny with your muffled chuckles. “i think that might be a record.”

“tired lamb,” simon said condescendingly, but he rubbed his thumb lovingly over the soft skin behind johnny’s ear.

“don’t be mean.” you grinned back at him.

simon hummed and rested his head into the crook of your neck, tucking you in closer with the arm still wrapped underneath your waist. “not bein’ mean.”

he nipped at your neck, a soft nibble that had you gasping and clenching your thick thighs around the one johnny had slipped inbetween.

“prick,” you huffed without malice when he stopped and let out a long tired breath in your ear. he hummed with closed eyes, clearly not listening.

you chuffed a laugh into johnny’s hair. the low thrum of arousal simon had brought on was easy enough to ignore but you’d have rather he’d finished what he started. instead, you tucked your cold toes between his large calves behind you in penance and tugged johnny even closer, enough to smother him. with your arse perched perfectly in simon’s lap and johnny nestled close to his second favourite place on your body, you were sure they’d give you what you were after once their nap is over. you closed your eyes with a smile; you could wait for them to get their energy up, and you loved your puppy piles just as much as they did.

[lorelune]

playing pretend

|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || loss of virginity roleplay || wc: 2k  || ao3 ||

You and jing yuan rewrite a memory.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

(a continuation of this piece)

notes: hello loves!!! this is a finished comm <3 lovely commissioner asked for an expansion and continuation of my first!! jing yuan piece, way back from 2023, linked above!! this was a really fun dynamic and concept to revisit :3c oh jing yuan, how adept you'd be at leaving behind a lovely memory in the place of one less kind. thank you for the comm and enjoy my dear reader!!

CWs: gn afab reader, roleplaying, specifically loss of virginity, soft soft sticky smut, minor references to an unpleasant first sexual experience

You hadn’t expected Jing Yuan to seriously follow through with anything, following your drunken confession. In retrospect, this is deeply foolish of you. Jing Yuan is nothing if not a diligent man, even if the way he is diligent is nearly silent and hidden. He is a master strategist, after all. You feel silly for thinking that your fantasy would only stay as raunchy dirty talk and not something he would indulge fully.

Jing Yuan brings it up a few weeks later, after a bath you share. He does so casually, it catches you off guard. He uses it to his advantage, plying you with kisses along your shoulders and up your neck.

The man wants expansion. Candid desires and details. Confirmation that you really do want a redo, with him. As calm and mischievous as he tends to look, there’s a gleam in his eye that is stunningly earnest and hopeful.

So you tell him all. You craft a night together to be shared.

...

You’re laid out beneath him, every part of you bare. 

This part of sex sometimes scares you. The exposure of your core, the softness of your belly revealed to one who could, theoretically, gore you in ways that go beyond physical.

(Perhaps you carry this perception from your real first time. That as much pleasure as this act can bring, and has come to bring you, there’s a blade edge of danger that you can’t ever unsee.)

In this moment, you aren’t so worried. Jing Yuan is good to you. He always is. It’s easy to forget now. To lose yourself in the moment that Jing Yuan has built for you.

He cups your cheeks, and pets over the apples of them with a smile that’s soft and shiny even in the low light of your bedroom. 

“I’ll take good care of you,” he says so softly; you’re certain not even the light breeze within the bedroom heard it. His hand slips between your thighs, hovering but not yet touching. “No one has touched you here, right, dear?”

You melt at his words, the finer details of the past and the world out of your cozy bedroom are welcomingly lost on you.

You nod dumbly as his thumb swipes over your wobbling bottom lip, “Uh-huh.”

“Just me?” He tilts his head sweetly. 

“Just you.”

“A virgin,” he hums, a lacing of sweetness in his voice that you can feel on the sides of your tongue. He noses into your jaw, drawing his lips in the form of half-there kisses. He squeezes the plush of your inner thigh. 

You whine, squirming with his words. You are a virgin for him now, untouched and woefully unfamiliar with the indulgences of physical pleasure. 

Jing Yuan draws his knuckle over the seam of your cunt. You gasp, thighs closing around his hand. He hushes your worry, your shyness, and kisses the base of your throat. He sucks a bruise there, laving over the tender spot with his tongue until you’re writhing, grasping at his shoulders for some type of purchase. 

He pulls away, lips wet and the honey gold of his eyes swallowed by his pupils.

“I’ll take good care of you.” He assures. You know he will. You don’t think you’ve ever been more confident in something else before this moment. “We’ll make sure you’re ready, hm?”

And he does. He does. 

Jing Yuan slicks his fingers down first in your mouth, teasingly pressing the digits to your lips before slicking them himself. He wets his fingers with a suck, making sure they’re dripping, before returning to tend to you.

The first finger he eases into you doesn’t hurt, not really, but there is a stretch.

(You’d held off on sex, or any touch of this kind, for a few weeks. It helps with the immersion, how your body must acclimate to Jing Yuan’s touch again.)

He slinks down the length of your body, leaving kisses in his wake as he thrusts his first finger in and out of you, adding a second when you’re wet enough for it to be obscene and audible. He reaches your navel, trailing further down to kiss your clit. Gentle, teasing, so thoroughly undoing. 

Two fingers aren’t enough. He withdraws the soaked digits only to drip a glob of spit onto them and third, before returning to you. He gives you even more, lapping at your clit with your thighs shifted onto his shoulders. 

It’s— a lot. All of it is. You like that it is.

It does feel like this is your first time. Nervousness brews in your belly, nestled alongside hearth-hot arousal. Both are so instantly balmed and held by Jing Yuan. So lovingly, so easily, and without anything other than care and patience. It’s— it’s so much better—

“I’ll teach you such pleasure,” he tells you, stretching you slowly, cooing when you gasp at the stretch and little sting. “Would you like that?”

“Y-Yes—” Your voice wobbles. “Please—”

He muffles a chuckle into your cunt, “Are you feeling desperate, dear?”

“Maybe.”

“Patience.” Jing Yuan curls his fingers, playing with the idea of orgasm but not giving in to it. “Let me treat you well.”

(Jing Yuan enjoys extended foreplay. His own refractory period is relatively long, and his orgasm isn’t something he chases in the way that past partners of yours have. The act of lying together, exchanging pleasure like blows traded during a particular steamy spar, is one of his favorites.)

In your foggy, blissed-out mind, you’re learning this about him for the first time. You want more of it. More. A greedy thing, you are. You shake as you twine your fingers in his hair and tug, dragging him somehow closer to your cunt. 

Your hips roll down— for more of his fingers, more of his mouth. He groans as you do. Fucking his face like this feels dirty, but it feels so good too. Pleasure runs from your guts to your spine. 

Jing Yuan, however, only lets you indulge so far. He clicks his tongue, bracing your hips down with a single broad forearm before extracting himself, at least somewhat, from between your thighs. 

“Didn’t I ask for your patience?” He tilts his head, sly and cute all at once. 

“... Maybe.”

“Perhaps I must teach you to listen better,” he muses. “A lesson for another day, hm? If you’ll have me once again.”

“Of course—”

It’s a given. He knows this. It shows in his molten gaze as he regards you with nothing but fondness. 

...

Jing Yuan fucks you like it’s really— really, your first time. Your legs are bracketed around his hips while he kneels between your thighs. One of his hands fists around his cock while the other braces against your hips, rubbing little circles there. You tremble with a mixture of trepidation and excitement, all bundled into one. Your cunt drools with a mix of slick and leftover spit.

You shiver.

Jing Yuan’s cock is so hard that the tip looks almost purple. He has a nice cock— a good length and a girth that guarantees a stretch. Now, he slicks it up with lube, looking at you sweetly as he does. 

“We’ll go slow,” he says. “Let’s take our time.”

You squirm.

This is your redo, isn’t it? You deserve the slowness, patience, and care that Jing Yuan gives you without hesitation. It’s the reason for this dance. 

Jing Yuan settles closer, the head of his cock nudging your cunt. You whine and he hushes you as he slowly presses forward.

His hand leaves your hips, instead wrapping itself around one of your own. Your fingers lock together as he rolls his hips. It’s weighted, measured movement. It aches but in a good way. You know you’ll be sore tomorrow as a lingering reminder. You crave it.

A shattering gasp works its way from your lips and you squeeze Jing Yuan’s wide hand within your own. Each grind of his hips fucks his cock a little deeper inside of you. He’s so warm— scalding in all the right ways. The girth of him, the heat of him— it’s rewriting you—

(Just like you wanted.)

By the time Jing Yuan is fully seated in you, you’re both gasping, grasping at each other. Your cunt flutters around his cock, so deep in you that you think you’ll bruise. You want it to. You want to be carved out in the shape of him, forever, like it has only ever been him inside you. It’s a particular type of claim, one you have a difficult time verbalizing explicitly.

You’re glad Jing Yuan understood enough to actualize it as this, though.

When he starts moving, you can’t help but look down between your bodies for the view of it. Jing Yuan’s cock is soaked and sticky with a combination of both of you. It’s hypnotizing to watch him move in slow, deep strokes. The slick sounds mingle with his harsh breathing, and the little gasps and whines muffle against your lips. 

They mix with your own, sweet like syrup that you want to drink down as nectar.

You’ve been on the edge of— something— throughout this entire evening. Maybe you’ve been turned on since Jing Yuan led you to the bedroom, secure in the knowledge that you’re going to be fucked and held like he always does, but under the veil that it’s been like this since the beginning. Maybe, you’ve been horny since Jing Yuan so sweetly pressed you for more details in the bath a few weeks back. Maybe, you’ve been horny since that tipsy night when you gave Jing Yuan a confession that you’d never given any lover prior.

It’s all liquid now, unimportant details as it all culminates in a cresting type of pleasure, low in your guts. You’re close, probably. 

Jing Yuan pulls out, leaving you empty, sitting back on his haunches.  It's a brief, but important motion. He rearranges your legs so your ankles rest by his head. His front braces against the back of your thighs, the full weight of him laid into you. His hands come to rest behind your knees. 

You hardly have time to register the distressing nature of your sudden emptiness before he folds you in half effortlessly and fucks into your against deeper and harder. A sound rips from your throat, desperate, like a sob that you can’t contain. Slick sticks between the two of you, lovely words pour from Jing Yuan’s lips like honey wine. You can’t make out specific words, or phrases, just the notions of care, of desire, of overwhelming pleasure that’s coming to a peak.

His hand lips between you and with a few well-timed thrusts and circles of your clit, you’re cumming on his cock. Your back bows and you tug at his hair, scratch at his shoulders. You maybe beg for more, beg for—

(Him to not go, to not leave, to keep and you have—)

He muffles your words with a kiss, his tongue breaching your mouth and stealing away any doubts in an instant. It’s unfair, how easily he sates and assures you. You shake beneath him, Jing Yuan’s thrusts grow erratic, the sounds he gives you becoming more desperate and high and airy— (pitches only reserved for you—)

He cums with his own cry, ducking into your neck as he pumps into you. You feel the flood of warmth and sticky sounds. 

You pet his hair as he comes down along with you, not stilling until his cock is properly soft and slipping out of you. 

“F-Fuck,” his voice shakes. His arms wrap around your shoulders, caging you, as he drags you under the sheets, beneath him. 

“‘S good?” 

“So good,” he tells you. “I’m not done with you, however.”

“I-Is that so?”

“Give an old man some time.”

He says so with mirth, voice all gravely from pleasure. You luxuriate in it, feeling cored in the way you so craved. 

(Only his. Only, only, only his.)

[megumimania]

FEELINGS — art donaldson.

art never took losing well.

it always left him with pent up anger and frustration that he often took out on the poor rackets after each game, not stopping until the racket was a splintered, wiry mess.

but that all changed when he met you.

you were knowledgeable about tennis without having played a single game, giving pointers when needed. whilst many dismissed your tips due to their sheer arrogance and over confidence, art heard you out and eventually incorporated your tips into his games.

tennis to art was akin to a reflex, his style embodying the meticulousness and the grace of an ice skater or a swan. his tennis was enthralling to watch as he exuded a powerful gracefulness with every serve and every shot.

that’s probably why he took the losses so personally because in a sense by losing his matches he was letting you down, no matter how many times you reassured him that it was nothing of the sort.

“are you mad at me?” he opened his eyes, his gaze already meeting yours as you gently stroked his hair.

this was the art only you got to see.

doubtful, weak, soft—a world away from the stoic, focused man that was affectionately known by the media and everyone on the court as the lovechild of roger federer and novak djokovic or the future of tennis.

“no.” you replied and you meant it. you saw how the immense pressure of being great got to him, it corroded away at his innards, leaving him an empty vessel solely primed for tennis.

it was times like this that he was grateful for you. your humanity. your love. your heart.

it’s what kept him from dropping everything and deciding to live out the rest of his years off his winnings and sponsorships. the idea was always there but the fast paced nature of the tennis world never allowed it to be pondered for a single second.

maybe it was always supposed to be that way.

a mere thought.

he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand, rubbing it softly. “thank you.” he said, the words carrying more weight than he had expected. your gentle touches soothing him.

“for what?” you asked and in that moment art’s mind went blank. it wasn’t that you didn’t do a lot for him—you did.

but it was so hard to encompass all of that into a sentence. you deserved more than these half thought out declarations of love.

art was a man of few words and he was going to honour that. he took a shaky deep breath before looking at you with a small smile on his face.

“for everything.”

[arachine]

dry humping w josh. you’ve got bruises in your hips from how hard he moves you back and forth ah hell

cw: like 10% dry humping, fingering, mean-ish!josh (barely), mischaracterization (maybe, trial's still out), litch took creative liberty sorry girlfriend

when you're fucking around with josh, it's always either slow and drawn out, or intoxicatingly heavy and feral. very rarely does he leave bruises on your body—only ever does it upon request or when he's so blind with pleasure that the only thing at the forefront of his mind is getting closer to you. and it's usually the latter.

sometimes he wishes he could devour you. consume you whole so that nobody could ever have you. and he supposes that since he can't quite do that—this is the next best thing. when he's got you like this, sat on his cock, pressing you down, down, down, like a piece of clay waiting to be molded. kneaded. made pliable.

and it's always too much. the pleasure. the way he forces you to stay down against him, mercilessly rutting up into you, long after you've already gone limp in his arms.

"oh, c'mon," he drawls, tone teasing, "not giving up on me now, are ya?"

"'s t-too much," you all but cry, "can't take it!"

"both know that's not true," he laughs, temporarily pausing his movements. swiftly, he slips his hand past the waistband of your shorts. slides a finger over your slit once, twice, before burying it inside to the hilt.

there's a cocky grin plastered over his face that you can't see but hear. "i've seen this pretty pussy take on a lot more," he whispers into your ear. the next time he speaks, he adds another. uses the pad of his fingers to rub up against the smooth velvet of your walls, curling and uncurling them in a manner so cruel, that it has you clutching his shoulders for stability.

you're getting closer and closer to another release, and you're almost there until he withdraws his hand from your pants unceremoniously. confusion settles between your brows.

"why...why'd you stop?" you query, panting from the loss of friction. he sits there with a sly smirk, amused by your visible frustration before opening his mouth to say, "said it was 'too much', right? think we should just stop there..."

"i can..." your words are barely just above a whisper, and josh takes advantage of this.

"what was that? don't think i caught it."

"i can do it," you affirm, placing your hands back onto his shoulders for leverage, "wanna keep going." hesitantly, you resume your movements. you start with a slow, methodical roll of your hips, gradually increasing speed along with pressure—the way he likes it.

"atta girl," he praises, leaning back into the cushion of the sofa, "now show me how you get off."

[variousqueerthings]

i really like taron egerton out of the bulk of actors that came out of the 2015-2020 era, he just made a few massive tentpole movies and then went cheers that and seems to have since then done mostly smaller-budget character acting work and found reasons to hang out with everyone he in turn is a massive fan of and buying his mum a house and otherwise staying out of the public eye, and im like. yeah. that's what i'd expect to be the best outcome from having had the opportunities he did in art that genuinely came from initially wowing the older industry professionals: make enough money to be able to choose any project you want, chill out in between, meet a bunch of other cool artists, support your mum

and he's very very good at his job also

[abyssal-ilk]

everyday i play veilguard in hopes that the writers will say something meaningful about the antaam. everyday i stare blankly at my screen in disappointment.

[vifilms]

# which wolf wins? a. anderson

# content warning — eighteen+, fem reader, mentions of murder, gun violence, physical violence, ellabs being traumatizing to each other, reader fighting for life, cursing, tw blood, ellie having murderous tendencies, angsty gays.

𐐪𐑂 ° ︴ 9.24.2023

There was blood everywhere, some of it dried on your forearms, splatters on your face. You knew there hadn’t been a moment like today, like this terrifying second, where you didn’t believe you would make it out. More and more bloodshed. There wasn’t anyone who was free from it. You knew there wasn’t much love to be had between them both, the blood thirst vengeance was more than enough proof of it. 

And you had got caught in the crossfire. 

All of it was about evening the score, making them feel each other’s pain. Rage consumed Abby, more than you wish it did but you couldn’t tell her to stop. She started this to get justice for her father. But now, with a knife to your throat, you didn’t regret it. Even if your undying devotion for her was to get you killed, you would do it all over again. 

It still didn’t make you any less terrified of what was to come. Helpless in Ellie’s hold as she taunted Abby with you. The gun pointed at Ellie’s head only made the blade further press into you, any more pressure and blood would be drawn. 

 “A-Abby, please.” You choked out, your eyes glossed over with tears threatening to spill. Maybe in a perfect world, you would be scared of death. Suspicious of what comes after, but not in this world you lived in. Just in the past few years, you wished death would find you. It would’ve been the greatest hand of mercy life had to offer. 

You were terrified for the woman in front of you. The person you loved more than life, and these days it didn’t seem like much, but she was heaven in a world surrounded by your own personal hell. Always seeming like there were never enough moments to hold onto. Trying to find more so you could continue on. Fight to see another day, for her. 

Then there’s a split second where you want Ellie to put you out of your misery. Maybe then you would know peace. True serendipity. The only time you ever felt glimpses of it was in Abby’s arms. When she’d come back from patrol, with you already in bed - she’d tuck you into her chest into the security of her. You didn’t feel like you needed to worry about what was to come next. She’d find a way to look out for you. 

To protect you. 

She’d lost so much, she couldn’t afford to lose you too. 

That’s when Abby knew the plea wasn’t for you. She looked in your  beautiful fucking eyes, and she knew who it was for. 

It was for her. 

You knew her better than her ego did, and right now it was bruised, battered even. Abby didn’t like anything being out of her control, and this felt like everything had gone wrong. Going over everything in her mind, correcting over the things she could have done differently. Was she so hellbent on rage she let Ellie get the opportunity to get her hands around you? 

“Let go of her.” Abby all but growled. 

The person she loved in the hands of the one who hated her the most and she wanted to blow out Ellie’s skull for it. 

“Why?” Ellie taunted, pure fury laced in her eyes. 

“She has nothing to do with this.” Abby’s voice breaks down in the process at the thought of losing you, but she pushes through. Trying not to let herself drown in the thought of you being murdered just like her father, especially not in front of Ellie. Never in front of Ellie fucking Williams.  

“If it’s just between us, then put the gun down.” Ellie commanded.  “Try anything, and I’ll fucking kill her. The only person who still believes there’s good in you. Wouldn’t that be a shame?” 

Abby couldn’t help but want to bark back, but your voice cast her right out of it. 

“Abs, I love you, okay? I’m with you. No matter what happens.” The turmoil fabricated her brain and poisoned her intentions, she had a clear shot. She could drop Ellie, but she knew it wasn’t worth losing you. Nothing would be worth losing you. 

“Drop it, Abby.” So, she does. Kicks the weapon away from them both in the opposite direction, not ready to risk your life for anyone, because deep down she knew you had this effect on her. Making her want to do the right thing even if she really didn’t fucking want to. 

She’d much rather put a bullet through Ellie for threatening you right in front of her. 

Ellie keeps her promise and lets you go and you all but fall in Abby’s arms. “This isn’t over, Williams.” Her tone is deadly, but anything else is erased as her sole focus is set on you. 

Before she exits she sees something she never thought she’d see. You're cradled in Abby’s arms, your body wracked with sobs as you shake. She soothes you with the sound of her silky voice, promising the both of you will get out of this mess. She kisses your forehead softly, before whispering something so quietly not even Ellie could make it out. 

Abby’s soft in the way she holds you. How she tries to calm you down. Carefully wiping away your tears, trying to focus on you and not the anger she feels. Abby thought it might’ve been hard but hearing your cries brings her into reality and you’re all that matters to her.

Ellie thinks Abby almost looks human.

She takes it as her cue to leave. As cruel as Ellie feels; she doesn’t have the heart to kill Abby in front of the woman she loves. Not when Abby had offered the same courtesy to Dina. All Ellie was doing was evening the score. 

That’s all it was. 

[welcometogrouchland]

I feel like for the first few years of guardianship Darius and Hunter really struggle to figure out how to refer to each other.

Like it's easier for Hunter, he pretty quickly settles on "guardian" for explaining their relationship to other people and just referring to Darius by name when talking to the man himself. Overtime the phrasing gradually warms, becoming "foster parent" and eventually, once Hunter's already an adult old enough to move out, "Dad".

(Sidenote: he doesn't move out til he's in his mid to late twenties, bc he's under no obligation too, Darius low-key doesn't want him too, and the two of them want to make up for lost time in a sense, since Hunter only had 2 years of legal dependency on Darius before aging out of the system. Darius adopts Hunter retroactively as an adult)

Darius on the other hand has a real conundrum on his hands for those first few years. He has a lot of options! But "ward" is too formal and makes it sound like Darius picked him up off the street like after his parents were murdered, "apprentice/student" isn't really accurate considering the focus of Darius and Hunter's relationship has less to do with Hunter learning magic and more to do with Hunter being housed and fed. "Kid" and "foster son" are there...but...

Look, Darius isn't going to refer to Hunter more familiarly than Hunter refers to him! He's not gonna make it WEIRD. He's not a dad, because Hunter doesn't want/need him to be (and also parenthood is scary <3). Darius doesn't know the first thing about being a dad, despite how his friend group teases him.

Eda and Eberwolf are the two who are worst about it. They torture him with how 'fatherly' he's allegedly being (allegations Darius will DENY til his GRAVE!!!) And Eda specifically compares his journey to hers, saying it always starts off with you referring to them as your apprentice (again, Darius doesn't plan on doing that), as your roommate (...kinda weird in Darius' opinion? But okay Eda), or even your pet (????HELLO???). But eventually, they always become your dumb kid when you least expect it.

She's had a couple cups of appleblood by this point, but Darius knows on some level she's right and he's steadfastly ignoring that fact, even as Eber continues to refer to Hunter as his "cub" (kinda cute but Darius doesn't know how Hunter would feel being compared to an animal). The only people who are even remotely reasonable about all this (besides Lilith who's a bit disinterested in kid talk) is Raine and Alador, who both sort of neutrally, a bit awkwardly refer to Hunter as Darius' Boy.

Darius referring to Hunter as "my boy" is funnily enough what sticks the longest before it evolves to son boy. Hunter's crushing it at a derby match? Darius is whooping and cheering, yelling "THAT'S MY BOY!!!" At the other parents in the stands. Hunter is doing something dangerous or inadvisable where others can see him? "Darius, your boy-" "AHH! MY BOY". Hunter, a year into his stay with Darius finally comes clean about everything to do with him being a grimwalker, and is afraid that he's going to go back to seeing him as just an inferior replacement for Darius' beloved mentor? Darius (who has just had to process some of the most bonkers, emotionally heavy information in his life) gently, hesitantly puts a hand on his shoulder (the 'good' one Hunter doesn't mind people touching), and says that Hunter's much more than that. He's Darius' Boy and he's not going to kick him out or get angry or love him any less for things out of his control. It's good. They're good.

Like I said, it evolves over time and 'boy' becomes somewhat obsolete as the two get caught up in the joy of finally feeling able to explicitly refer to each other as family. But unlike "guardian" or "ward" the word never gets fully retired. Even when Hunter is 30 and is arguing that he's more of a man than a boy now, he is still getting referred to by Darius as "his boy", the way some parents never really stop calling their adult kids baby or kiddo (Camila and Eda respectively btw).

Hunter makes one of those corny matching shirt sets at some point for a father's Day gift when he's 17/18, where the two shirts say "if lost, return Boy to me" (Darius) and "I'm Boy" (Hunter). Hunter mostly did it so he could own a funny shirt that says "I'm boy". Darius openly weeps upon seeing them. Like Oh my Titan he's boy. He's my boy. Oh wow

[sourpeachsayshi]

Is it morally wrong if I ask for cnc/brat tamer 😭

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: dark content; cnc; brat tamer; spanking roleplaying; sex without protection; rough sex; choso x reader; degradation; humiliation; orgasm denial; aftercare; soft/hard dom choso; praise

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ note: ahh, nonnie! I just want to share this little note and say there is nothing morally wrong with having fantasies like this. fantasies are a safe space for sexual exploration always x

choso grips the fat of your hips and ruts into you from behind, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing around his room. your wanton moans leave your lips in a disruptive pace, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"wait-wait~" you whine, "choso, stop-m'sorry~"

his brows furrow, his cheeks stinging with shame as he thrusts deeper and harder. hitting the right spot that makes you tremble, and forces you to collapse onto your forearms.

"you're not sorry," he grunts, "acting like a spoiled brat in front of everyone, gotta fuck this attitude right out of you..."

"no, no, please~" you sniffle, licking your lips as your eyes flutter in anticipation. "I'l be good, promise..."

you fist the bedsheet and cling to it, a tiny pool of drool forming onto the mattress. stars form in front of your eyes. it feels so good, too good that it nearly snaps you out of the fantasy that you are in. you feel a sharp sting on your rear when he delivers a slap, a broken cry leaving you as you yank the sheet between your fingers.

choso was lost in the heat of lust. he has been from the moment you walked out into the living room, wearing a tiny white see through tank top with your tits out on display for all of his friends to see, and an attitude that only left him embarrassed. yuji was a blushing mess, mahito blatantly making snide comments, yuki touching you far too much for his liking and suguru whispering into choso's ear if everything was alright between you both. none of them knowing that this was something you discussed beforehand.

choso pulls out, his fat, thick cock coated in your slick, standing prominently erect. he flips you over onto your back, and plunges back inside without giving you any warning. he watches your tits bounce with every thrust, his eyes dark is it narrows lower to your abused cunt.

"if you act out, y-you don't get to cum," he scolds, his voice growing deep. his hips stuttering. "you're just going to take it whatever I give you, take how I fill you up-"

you shake your head no, your arms looking for support as you hook them underneath the pillow. "don't cum inside me," you beg, "please, please, please~"

his veins pop on his arms, and across his torso. he groans feeling how tight you are around him, releases a string of curses when he finally reaches his climax and spills his seed inside you.

your thighs are quivering, your body shaking because you did your part. you allowed him to use you as he pleases, but now your lover has to return the favor.

"cho~" you whimper, tears forming in your eyes out of desperation.

he pants as he watches his cum spill from between your lips, takes in the marks he's left on your body. "you did so, so good, baby" he acknowledges sweetly, before repositioning himself so his face is between your thighs.

he kisses the bruising hickeys on your plush skin, makes a path all the way to your throbbing clit that's desperate for attention. "you handle me so well, you make me so proud..."

you bite your bottom lip, sniffling as you look down at him with glossy eyes.

he kisses your clit, "it's okay, sweetheart, I got you..." he breathes, rolling his tongue tenderly over the bud. "just relax and I'll give you exactly what you want."

prompts for this are closed.

[romanitas]

homesick (3/?)

summary: It's Annabeth's wedding day. She leaves the groom at the altar.

Or, the day she runs away for the last time and everything that follows.

chapter three:

She gets a call for an interview at an architecture firm in Freeport the morning Percy’s set to come over. It’s kind of an annoying commute, but she has to start somewhere. She could live outside the city, if she really needed to. Mostly she’s just glad to hear something from somewhere so quickly.  They hadn’t really made much in the way of plans beyond ‘Percy comes to Piper’s apartment,’ and she feels bad offering him food when it’s not her own, so Annabeth spends about ten minutes googling nearby restaurants and take out in case he’s hungry. She can pay for his meal. It’s the literal least she can do. She isn’t nervous about seeing him again.  Until she is. 

( read the rest on ao3 )

[dervampireprince]

well it had been 3-4 years since i last drew anything remotely n#sfw.. and i didnt expect that who i'd be testing those waters with would be my oc vlad but here we are...

for those not familiar he's from my monster boy band group of ocs that i've had for years. there's sfw art of him and his band members on my sfw account and toyhouse. when i post art here's it's going to be n#sfw though sometimes some sfw may be on here if it's of my audios ocs but tbh i have plans for a lot of my existing ocs to become audio ocs one day sooo i think it's just easier to say sfw art of my ocs on my sfw account, spicy art here.

[18+ only, minors dni]

[sag-dab-sar-follows]

In a Humans are Space Orcs universe, this is the type of video you show your alien friend to prove how fucking confusing Earth is.

So in this video we've got

-A young deer, small, oblivious to predators while its eating (since it had a startled reaction), herbivore, prey animal

-A small obligate carnivore predator animal that evolved from a very large predator and still technically has its evolutionary instincts

-The small predator is a version of the animal that just kinda domesticated itself to the sentient apex predator of the planet for its own benefit

-The apex predator of the planet went along with this because "omg look at the cutie!" pack bonding trait

-Small predator animal attacks prey animal playfully not aiming to kill, for its own enjoyment and curiosity

-Young prey animal doesn't really know what to do so just.... steps on it

-Small predator was not expecting that response so runs away..... the predator ran away from the prey it chose to toy with

I've been reading waaaaayyyy to much HASO stuff , I love it. I think about it a lot when animal videos (which youtube now keeps recommending me because I click on like all of them) come up— I've been getting a lot of youtube shorts. I think of humans being confusing to aliens every time I see big cats being treated like house cats at animal sanctuaries. Like yes please boop the snoot of a fucking TIGER. And the Tiger, this massive killing machine, is just a-okay with this because weird hairless being gives food, comfortable living, cardboard boxes, and enjoyable pets.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Cutie would like to believe they're a good person.

But they're great when it comes to thinking outside of the box.

"Happy birthday, sweetie! Everyone has been so excited to celebrate when you manifested your magic last month! Your Dad can't wait to teach you his Earth tricks - did... did you just speak in my head?"

"Oh hey! Nah, you're alright; class hasn't start yet. Are you a new student? Cool! I'm a Freelancer. You? ...Oh."

" - so lame, though. All they can do is read the other team's minds. Yeah, but what's good about gathering intel when they need consent before digging into our opponents' brains? I'm not saying they're useless - "

"Unfortunately, the Department isn't looking to hire any new Investigator at this moment with your particular skillset. But don't worry, you'll be the first person I'll call when we have an open position."

Creativity is the spice of life. Or, in Cutie's perspective, an edge that made a mundane Telepath... not so mundane.

A Telepath reads minds, but who says they can't be more?

Who to say a Telepath can't command the heart - an organ that pumps life within the body - to stop beating?

Who says a Telepath can't whisper random words that condition the brain into transforming a person into someone else entirely?

Who to say a Telepath can't plant false memories just like a De(a)mon could?

Who to say a Telepath can't become the government's prized interrogator and something akin to Nick Fury of the Empowered world?

Morality be damned when you're damn good at what you do.

But whenever Cutie was with Geordi, they were never good or great -

They were happy and oh, look at that. It's been so long since Cutie could remember they were genuinely happy ever since they got their magic. Eyes quickly averted and hardly a second glance whenever they're around family and friends after all.

But Geordi is an Unempowered human. Geordi isn't like those the Department threw at them.

Cutie isn't good but they're great.

...

Why isn't that enough anymore?