#dozily

[icebrooding]

I think it would be very funny and also perfect if Eparch turned out to be like a demon bishie. Do to him what every other piece of media does to non-human female characters and make him just oddly pretty. Expecting this hulking great beast of a demon man and then he looks like he walked out a FF game.

[dameronswife]

I DREAMT ABOUT POE 🥰🥺🥰🥺

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere elf x reader - Bath time :)

Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Please check out her blog ✨ Another BIG thanks for creating him!

This is a follow-up to my last fic: if you want to read that one, click here. I'm not sure if I'll do another one, a bit out of ideas lol.

Warning: 18+ content, non-con, drugging, general nsfw !

—————

The water stung your damaged knee. Silas was preparing something in a wooden pail, humming some tune, while you sunk deeper into the hot spring. The water brushed your chin, as you glared at the back of the stupid elf’s head, bobbing back and forth as he dunked colorful fluids from flasks into the bucket. His long, luscious hair was levitating on the water's clear surface, covering his butt.

You were so close to freedom. He told you he’s enchanted the area now, stopping you from leaving entirely. No idea how that worked, but he showed you by pushing you gently against an invisible barrier. Your cheek had squished against the unseen partition, like when a human tests their cat’s intelligence against walls in those videos. “To protect you”, he explained in his sing-song trill.

If you hadn’t been injured, you would’ve made it. Away from this maniac.

“Look what Mama made!”

Silas held the bucket under your nose, smiling serenely. The liquid was a mix of pinkish goop and specks of sparkles. Your eyes lingered on the strange soup, then turned up to meet his excited face.

“What the fuck is this”, you mumbled crossly.

“No swearing, darling!” He patted your head. He didn’t know what the word “fuck” meant, but he read that it is bad for children to use. “It’s my healing salt! Doesn’t it smell amazing?”

Silas kept holding it under your nose. It did smell good, damn it.

“It will heal your poor leg. Plus, it makes everything feel a bit tingly. Healthy for cleaning up down there.” He gestured to his crotch.

Fuck.

Without warning, he dunked the solution into the bath. The mixture oozed slowly into the clear spring. The effect of it was almost instantaneous. You felt the biting pain ebb from your limb and you sighed in relief. Elf magic was so fascinating. If only Silas wasn’t such a freaking psycho. You would love to learn more about it. And then go back home and sleep in a bed without tits in your face.

He was right about the prickly sensation. You felt a warmth pulsate down there, as you absentmindedly sunk deeper into the water. Your gaze blurred and you felt the comfort of the heat engulf you.

Silas pulled you to him and placed you in his lap. His towering upper body remained out of the pool, the breezy touch of his skin a great juxtaposition to the searing heat of the water. To be fully engulfed, he would have had to spread himself across the whole spring, leaving no room for you.

You felt him grow below you. The effects of the water seemed to work on his form as well. His cheeks blushed.

“Be good, darling.” He breathed into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let’s heal you completely.”

Your leg was fine. You didn’t need any more healing.

Silas’ lips brushed yours, his tongue slinking quickly and entangling in yours. The potion and his saliva were making you go crazy, your lap roaring with want. It was impossible to bottle up.

The potion made movement slow. You were attempting to push away with the last of your wits, but it came across as you gently pressing his chest together. He misunderstood and held your face up to his breasts.

“Drink up…”, he trebled, leading your mouth to his hard teat. It was hopeless.

Your wet lips traced around it and you felt the elf jitter under you with excitement. His hands were softly trailing down your back and took hold of your bottom, squeezing the soft tissue. The water delayed his movement, but you felt him lift you slightly, hovering dangerously above his throbbing shaft.

You could feel him against your entrance, nudging slightly. The heat consumed you, thrumming in the area, wanting. You released your lips from his chest, gazing dozily into his red face. If he was blushing more, you could not tell. He looked so enthralled; the big, dumb eyes full of devotion to you.

Silas crashed into your lips again, kissing desperately, lapping up every part of your mouth. The more saliva you exchanged, the more you felt yourself pulsate. The waves within you crashed, begging for relief. You tried to use your arms to push him off of you, but they felt so limp.

You hated this effect he had on you. You couldn’t stop yourself. This surge and needing the release - it drove you insane.

Floating above him in the spring, you felt him twitch there in unfair expectation. He was far too massive for you.

Silas wrapped one arm around your waist, pushing you closer into his body. Your breasts compressed against his and he moaned shakily at the sensation.

“Mama will heal you, dear…”, he huffed after releasing himself from your lips, with bits of drivel escaping his mouth. “I lov-“

You couldn’t take it anymore. You sat down on him, letting the beginning of him enter you with a strong jerk. He filled you up, with just so little of him inside. Your entire body shook from the flash.

Silas head knocked back; his eyes crossed as he let out the loudest yelp you had ever heard from him. He had never felt you like this before. He only dared milking himself in your sweet mouth, for fear of tearing you apart. But this… the feeling of your tight, velvety walls, the little he could feel of it was enough to make his world spin.

He instinctively grabbed your hips with a jolt and lifted you up and down on him. He wanted more of that sensation, more. More. More!

You were bouncing on top of him and felt every sinew explode with electricity. He bucked his hips slightly when you bobbed back down, but not too much in fear of breaking you, slowly deepening each thrust.

Although you could hear his pitiful “Ah! Ah! Ah!”s, your entire environment seemed to muffle. All you could feel was the inconsolable penetration. The way every jab made your groin burst into flames. The water splashed vigorously around you, as he guided your body into his. He lifted you like you weighed nothing. His head was still jerked back with his eyes in the back of his head, it seemed he was unable to do anything other than plunge halfway into you.

You couldn’t help but release low moans yourself, the note of your bellows making him tense up more. His large hands were clasping your ass, the flesh spilling out between his long fingers. You whimpered and let him consume you, every thrust splitting your walls further. The loud clapping of your bodies and the vigorous splashing, you were intoxicated. The sounds. The sensation. It was diabolical.  

You let out a string of deep moans, as you came, the wetness around his shaft increasing as you tightened your grip around him. Silas couldn’t hold it any longer, either, as he erupted within you, squealing from the overwhelming pleasure.

He spilled out of you. A puddle of white foam bubbled around you. Silas heaved loudly, blinking excessively and tilted his head back forward, staring dumbfoundedly at you.

He looked like you beat him up. Tears were escaping his rippling eyes, as a tiny sob hiccupped out of him.

Fucking baby.

“D-Do you feel better now? Have I healed you?”, he squeaked, pulling you into his arm cages again.

You rolled your eyes and nodded out of sheer vanquish. There was no point explaining to him that this wasn’t how you heal humans. There was no point explaining to him that mothers don't do this.

Silas kissed your head and swirled his hand in the water, making his semen drift away from you. “Oh…all the precious milk. Gone…”

He grabbed a sponge from behind him and started cleaning you feebly, his hands still shaking from the massive release. You saw a tear fall from his cheek. Without thinking, you brushed another one off his cheek.

He gaped at you after the gesture, pausing his scrubbing.

“O-oh darling. You really love me, don’t you? That’s why it felt so good…”, he smiled widely, more tears splashing out of his googly eyes.

You didn’t answer. You didn't know why you just did that.

Silas hugged you so tightly, you let out a wheeze.

“I love you too, my sweet!!” he squeaked and squished you more. “It’s getting late. We still need to have dinner! And you need a proper portion of milk!”

You closed your eyes, sighing.

Another milking session...

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

eddie fights to get his usually shy and moderately intoxicated girlfriend to bed when you insist on clinging to him at every turn. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k.

cw intoxicated reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're holding onto Eddie's arm tight enough to leave little fingerprint bruises behind. He doesn't think he'd mind, and he doesn't try to slacken your grip as he helps you up the stairs into the trailer. 

"Do we have to be quiet?" you whisper. Or, attempt to whisper. 

"Nah, Wayne's working." He closes the door behind you and leans over your shoulder to put his car keys in the bowl on the sideboard. "Oh, hey." 

You've given up on clinging to his arm and have started cuddling his waist instead. Eddie feels his eyes go wide, peering down at you almost like he's worried you'll realise you're being bold and move away. You rub your cheek against his leather jacket and sigh. "I love your hugs," you say dreamily, words slurred but understandable.

This isn't news to him, but it's definitely nothing you've said aloud before. Eddie's your boyfriend, he knows you enjoy a warm hug, but he's your new-ish boyfriend, and you're one of the shyest people he's ever met. Half the time he kisses you and your cheeks catch fire. 

"Yeah?" he asks fondly. 

You break the hug quicker than he'd like and bend at the waist. Laughing unsurely, you attempt to untie your shoelaces, wobbling like a cardboard house in a hurricane. Eddie catches onto your shoulders to hold you up, but you can't last. 

You make a strange sound, indignation and admission at once, and put your hands behind you to sit down. You go down hard enough to make the kitchenette shake, trailer walls not especially durable. 

"Shit, are you okay?" he asks, kneeling down in front of you. 

You blink at him glassily. "Will you take my shoes off, please?" 

"Yeah," he says. He laughs and tries not to. "Yeah, I'll take your shoes off for you. Pass em over." 

You put one of your feet on top of his knees clumsily. Eddie unties the bunny knots you'd made earlier, neat and tidy, not wanting anyone to judge you for messy laces, you'd said. 

He slides your shoes off and gives your toes a squeeze. Sober you would blow a gasket, shuffling away from him with a flustered squeak, but drunk you must like it. You leave your foot on his thigh and offer him the other shoe. 

"Do you like my socks?" 

Eddie digs his nail into the second bunny knot. "I love them. Why, are they new?" 

Your socks are normal white crew socks with a black hem stripe, black toes, and black heels. You hum at his observation appreciatively, your hand straying to your stomach. "And my underwear, too." 

"How much did you have to drink while I was in the bathroom?" he asks. Eddie's seen you in your underwear, but it's still unlike you to allude to your skivvies while fully dressed. 

"Not much. Why?" 

"It's not like you to talk about underwear," he tells you, sliding off your shoe and giving your foot a squeeze just as he had the first time, thumb digging into the sole. 

You giggle and yank your legs up and away from him. "That tickles." 

"Sorry, sweetheart." 

"It's okay. I forgive you, duh." 

He laughs, thrilled to see you this adorable and this beamingly happy. He can make you smile like no one else, and of course you're not always shy when you're with him, but it takes time. Eddie wouldn't change you for anything, it's just a real nice thing to see you so proudly happy. 

And hopelessly drunk. You lay on the floor of your side for a moment, jeans riding up your calves as you curl in on yourself, your jacket falling off your shoulder. 

Eddie crawls to your side. He indulges himself, sliding his hand between your cheek and the floor to lift your head. You meet his eyes dozily, sparks of happiness to be seen in your dilated pupils and the apples of your cheeks as you smile at him. 

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks. 

"You–" you begin, not sure where you're ending, "I missed you." 

"You missed me?" You're loaded. "Don't worry about missing me, sweetheart, I'm right here. Can I ask you for something?" 

You nod hurriedly. "Of course you can," you breathe. 

"Will you help me get to bed?" 

You reach for his elbow, your hand coasting up the length of his arm to his shoulder. "Stay here," you say. You're pleading with him, eyebrows drawing together, fingers screwing up in the folds of his jacket. 

"You'll be comfier on my lumpy mattress than you are on the floor, trust me." 

"I'm tired," you say. 

"Come to bed with me," he says softly, mirroring your tone. 

"And we'll have a hug?" 

Holy fucking shit, Eddie's fucked. He thinks, I'm gonna marry this girl, cheeks aching with the effort it takes to keep his huge smile at bay as he helps you sit up. 

"I'll give you as many hugs as you want," he says, brokering a deal with you right there on the floor. 

You agree to his terms, holding your hands out to be pulled up. Eddie stands and pulls you, and you do your part, attempting to stand with a wobble as you go, but he's right there to catch you. Thus begins another round of clinging, your fingers braceleting his wrist, your hips on his. 

Eddie leads you down the hallway. It takes longer than it should, what with your face in his neck and your less than subtle sniffing. He smells better than you do, your shirt soaked with what could be craft beer but might just be a half a cup of cider, neither of which he pictures you drinking. 

"Who tipped their drink on?" he asks, pushing the bedroom door open with his elbow. 

"What?" you ask, lifting your head from his neck. He looks down at you briefly. 

"What happened? You have beer all down your shirt, babe. Did someone tip their drink on you?" 

"Robin did, she said to tell you it was Steve." You raise a hand to his cheek. It's cold, and it smells like your moisturiser. "But I don't keep secrets from you." 

He doesn't mean to melt under your touch. He has things he should be doing, depositing you in the bed, changing your shirt, tucking you in for the night with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol for your perusal in the morning, but it's a startling delight to have you stroking his cheek. You usually only do this when he's half asleep or you're very tired; hoping he'll forget, maybe, and forgetting your own inhibitions. 

"You don't?" he asks gently. 

Your fingertips slip from the soft part of his cheek up to his eyelashes. You don't touch them, breathing out the side of your mouth rather than in his face. Drunk but not enough to stop treating him with care. 

"No… except for last Friday when we went to the Hawk. I really did need to use the bathroom." 

Well, Eddie knew that. You're shy, that doesn't make you a good actress. "And now we have no secrets," he says, covering your hand on his cheek. 

Your eyes slip closed a touch. Eddie doesn't really believe himself, he's sure there's lots of stuff you don't tell him. He guesses when you need something to drink because you hate asking, and he can't work out whether you like hotdogs or if you're just humouring him when he makes them, but he thinks any secret worth having is one you've let him in on. 

He puts you on the end of the bed. 

"Can I help you get changed?" he asks, already turning for the wardrobe where he keeps your left behind pyjamas and miscellaneous clothes, washed and pressed and waiting for you the next time you come around. 

"You haven't asked if you can undress me in ages." 

He laughs like an idiot, scooping an oversized t-shirt and a pair of your pyjama pants into his arms. "Now, that's not true. I always ask, but half the time you're already getting there." He turns to you, finds you've disappeared into your shirt, elbow twisted into the bottom and arms slack. "Like that," he laughs. 

"Stuck," you mumble. 

He chucks your pyjamas down and slips his fingers under your shirt where it's folded at the top of your shoulders. "Lift your arms, sweetheart. There you go." 

He laughs again when he sees your rumpled hair and face, dropping your acidic smelling shirt on the floor. "There she is. Hey, gorgeous," Eddie teases, running the side of his hand down your cheek quickly. "Bra on or off?" 

"Can I have my shirt first, please?" you ask.

He loves you. Your shyness creeping back in despite his having seen it all before is endearing, and he wouldn't ever say no to you. "Of course you can. Do you need my help again?" 

"I think this part will be easier." 

You're right about that. You get your shirt on easily enough, unclipping your bra without help. Nor do you need help with your pants. 

Eddie strips off quickly, swapping jeans for plaid pants and his t-shirt for a ribbed undershirt. He stretches out day long aches and kicks aside your dirty clothes on his way to the light switch, flicking it off, only his lamp left on now. 

You look lovely. Makeup smudged, watching him move around his small room with your face propped heavily in your hand, a practically cherubic smile playing on your lips. 

He pulls back the sheets and grabs you by the waist, lifting you very slightly to encourage you up against the pillows. You look at him like he's a wonder, adoration softening each line of your features. Your lips part slightly, your eyebrows rise upward. 

He thinks it might be really special, to be looked at as you look at him. 

"Let me get you a glass of water," he says. 

Neither of you have managed to brush your teeth. Honestly, he doesn't think you can stand up any more to try. Water will have to do. 

"No!" you say, louder than you've likely ever spoken to him when he isn't tickling you. "You said we'd hug." 

"We will," he says, giving your hand a little shake where it clings to his. 

"Please, Eddie, I just want to cuddle with you," you confess, giving him the best case of the puppy dogs he's ever seen. 

Eddie thinks, Whatever, we'll just have to make sure we brush extra hard in the morning. He can't deny you any longer. He didn't stand a chance. 

He climbs over your legs and you tuck him in affectionately, ramming your forehead into his chest and throwing your arm around his waist with less care. You nuzzle in, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you get comfortable. 

"This is so nice," you praise, words sluggish, slurred even more than they were as fatigue weighs you down. 

"This is perfect," he agrees, easing as flat as he can onto his back, nothing for his arms to do now but wrap around you and hold you close. 

You sigh again. It's even happier than the first, your leg creeping up as you hook your knee over his hip. "I love you, Munson. Thanks for…" You yawn and rub your nose into his chest. "Thank you. I love you." 

"You told me twice," he says, lifting his head to give you a teeny tiny kiss on your temple. 

"It was true for both of the times," you mumble. 

Despite relaxing atop him, your arms are like a vice. He doesn't care, he really couldn't care less, 'cos if you weren't hugging him like this he'd be hugging you tighter. Eddie speaks against your skin tenderly, "I love you, too," he murmurs, sealing it with a punctuating kiss.

He rubs your shoulder, feels your arms give him one final squeeze. 

"Is now a bad time to mention I need the bathroom?" he asks. 

Your answering snore tickles his chest.

—

"Eddie." 

Eddie scrunches his face up. You look down at him, flustered, wondering if it would be better for you to run out on him and never see him again. He groans as he wakes, turning his head and distorting the stain of your lipgloss smudged the length of his neck. 

You nibble the inside of your lip. He doesn't seem particularly annoyed with you. But he is mostly asleep. 

"Eddie, how did we get home last night?" you ask, rubbing between your eyebrows. "You didn't drive, did you?" 

He'd had two beers, which wasn't too much for him to handle but is more than anyone should have if they want to drive themselves home. 

Eddie peels his eyes open. "Steve drove us."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I'm super embarrassed. I got kinda wasted, huh?" 

Eddie's hands slip under your shirt to wrap around your soft stomach. He pulls you in an attempt to make you lay down again. 

"You were very drunk," he agrees, yawning into your ribs. 

You put your hand on the other side of his head to hold yourself up. "Was I a handful?" you ask softly, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.

He smiles against your shirt. You feel the curve of his lips, goosebumps erupting underneath it. Shy, you gasp quietly and try to escape his hold, but he hugs you ever tighter, snuggling into your chest. 

"You were great. I missed sober you, though." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Drunk you doesn't get goosebumps when I touch her." Smugness colours his voice, his hand rubbing up and down your naked back roughly to chase away your shivers. 

"I wasn't weird, was I?" you worry, more than alarmed by the gap in your memory. 

"You told me all about your new underwear," —you groan— "and how badly you needed to pee at the Hawk." 

You drop your head on to his, your foreheads touching, your hand curling around his neck. "Did I do anything vaguely in the land of acceptable behaviour?" you mumble in defeat.

"You told me you loved me. Multiple times. Once in your sleep." Eddie sounds delighted.

"That's unfontunately true," you grumble, not really meaning it. 

He laughs and gives you a firm tug. "Cuddle with me, babe." 

You cuddle him if only to hide your face from the world, face in his hair, hands under his back. Eddie draws a path of fondness up and down the dip of your back, laughing at each new crop of goosebumps as they rise. He's sweet enough to let you forget the mess you've made for at least a few stolen hours that morning. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed, please reblog if you have the time it makes a huge difference for me ♡

[tadpolesonalgae]

Soft-dom!Azriel x reader: Dreamy[*]

A/N: this really is a “short but sweet” length fic (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: soft-Dom!Azriel, oral (f! receiving), smut

Word Count: 1,778

A hand spans your hip, keeping you gently pinned to the wall, something hard and stiff poking your middle.

Obscene sounds squish between your mouths as his tongue flicks over your lips, stroking against your own.

A whimper melts on your tongue, eagerly swallowed down as he angles your head, free hand lightly gripping your jaw. Whine when his hips roll against your own, gripping onto his shirt, fingers crumpling the fabric. “Azriel…” you pant when he pulls away, a thin strand of saliva connecting you.

His cock twitches at the sight: feeling the heat from your cheeks, the plump glistening skin of your lips, the dilated pupils that are begging him to take you to bed. And who’s he to resist?

Azriel smiles gently, “on your back tonight.”

Heat bubbles in your middle, watching as he nods toward his bed, already beginning to strip off his clothes. Smooth, tan skin reveals itself, littered with small flecks of scar tissue, speckled with ragged marks. Tongue flicks over your lips, following the V of his hips lower—mouth watering at the prominence of his arousal.

He clicks his tongue in chastisement and you dip your head, hastily murmuring out an apology. A small smile softens his mouth, your heart jumping as you fumble with your dress, then padding over to the bed. Crawl onto it carefully, settling in the middle so there’s room for his wings to drape—should he feel that way inclined.

“That’s good,” he murmurs, prowling up the mattress, settling between your spread thighs. Cups your cheek, your own hands putting themselves over him: one lightly around his wrist, the other gliding over his shoulder. Moan sweetly when your lips connect, how they slant over your own, loving and tender.

“Open,” he mumbles between kisses, tongue dipping deeper into your mouth, stroking against the roof. Moans work their way from your throat, hand sliding to lock at the nape of his neck, fingers grazing the silky strands of hair. Teeth nip at your lower lip, drawing a whimper from you. His own hand settles on your inner thigh, pushing encouragingly. Legs part wider, and he slots in comfortably.

Heat sizzles in your lower tummy as you feel him rest over your heat, hips grinding softly to make sure the entrance is smooth. Arms tighten around him, pulling him deeper to your mouth, spine arching as he palms your breast. Thumb flicks across your nipple; you moan, tugging on his lower lip. You don’t want any teasing tonight. Just him.

Head spins a little as he kisses down your throat, nosing lightly, inhaling your scent. The undoubted arousal that’s also clouding his mind. Tongue licks over your skin, nipping a spot below your jaw, teeth grazing pleasurably. Back curves, nipples dragging over his chest as heat builds delicately.

“You’re a bit out of it today, aren’t you?” He whispers, pulling away to gaze down at you, hair loose upon his pillows. Blink up at him dozily, coming back to reality. Teeth push into your lip, eyes dipping to the side. “Sorry, Az,” you mumble, “I think I’m a little tired.”

A low laugh rumbles in his chest, stars gleaming in his hazel eyes. “It’s adorable,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Do you want to go to bed?” He asks, still smiling. Shake your head, definitely not wanting it to end. “Do you?” You murmur, fingers playing anxiously with the inky strands at the nape of his neck. Kisses your forehead again, “no.”

A smile pulls at your lips as you gaze up at him contentedly. “Good,” you mumble, legs wrapping around his hips. He chuckles again, the sound settling in the pit of your belly, a calloused palm stroking over your thigh, pulling you higher. His head lowers to your chest, kissing between your breasts, your own fingers threading in his hair as he latches over your right nipple.

“I’m sorry if I’m a little…subdued,” you admit quietly, spine arching as he circles the peak, thumbing across your left one. Teeth gently clasp around you, tugging lightly, causing your legs to wrap around him tighter, slippery wetness coalescing swiftly. “That’s okay,” he reassures attentively, pulling away in favour of attending your left nipple. “Just do your best,” he murmurs, delivering a light lap. “And tell me if you get too tired, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, eyes half lidded from pleasure.

“Okay…?” He goads, feeling his lips part in a smile. A helpless laugh bubbles from your chest, raising your head from his pillows slightly to meet his gaze. “Okay, Azzie.” That lovely, rich laugh resonates through his chest, warming your blood as hazel sparks with quiet joy.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, returning to your chest, slowly making his way down your stomach until he’s between your thighs. Begins slowly sucking marks into the skin, drawing whimpers from your lungs.

“Az,” you moan, his lips grazing the apex of your thighs. “Please…”

Mouth quirks in a smirk, “please what?” Roll your eyes at him, hand settling over your stomach as your head falls back into the pillows with exasperation. “Come on…” you groan, unable to fully disguise the laughter in your voice. His mouth parts in a grin, kissing down on your clit. Toes curl, a short inhale sucking between your lips. “Just a little,” he promises, lowering comfortably between your thighs.

Teeth push into your lip, his hot mouth latching over your heat, tongue licking across you, prodding at your entrance. Just a little, he’d said. Just a little; then he’ll be inside of you. Breaths deepen, hips raising for his access. Lips seal over the apex of your thighs, lapping and flicking as he enjoys himself.

You cup your breasts, shadows wrapping over your thighs, both his hands and the darkness rubbing in soothing motions, allowing you time to soften into his bed. Fingers pinch your nipples, playing with them experimentally while he creates a mess between your legs. Shadows join the fun, flicking the peaks of your breasts, gliding like silk across your skin, goosebumps rising in their wake.

He takes his time savouring your wet heat, tongue licking up the arousal, pressing his face deeper, eager to have as much of you as he can. Tongue pulls away from your entrance, suckling to your clit briefly before kissing, finally pulling away entirely.

Heat bubbles in your lower belly as he lines himself up, cock slick from being rubbed over you. Hands link over his shoulders, desperately dragging his mouth to your own. Needing to taste yourself on his lips, feel them ply you apart so he can delve deeper. His tip presses to your entrance and you buck, raising a little, urging him to slide home.

Teeth clasp your lower lip, tugging lightly as he pushes in further, the head of his cock nestling inside. Whimper into his mouth, fingers threading in his hair, nails scraping lightly as you silently beg, pleading for him to push his hips forward.

Azriel’s mouth opens over your own, finally relenting as he slides in to the hilt. Until his hips are pressing tight to the backs of your thighs, ankles crossed at his back. Lips part in a moan that he swallows hungrily, greedily devouring every sound you give. Every short whine, every sharp breath, all of it. Watches as your skin flushes with pleasure, hands gliding further down his back, taking in as much of him as he wants of you.

Finger graze the base of his wings, making his hips buck lightly, pushing you into his bed. Moans spill from the both of you, shadows soothing the heat that’s practically rippling beneath your skin from need. “Azriel,” you plead, desperate to feel him move, to rub against the spots he’s had memorised since the first time you coupled.

He nods compliantly, hand tangling lightly over your hair, sliding between your head and pillows to cup you. So he can watch as he begins moving.

Hips drag back, just a little as to not utterly overwhelm you. Neither of you are in the mood for that sort of play. Instead wishing to simply indulge in one another. Curse beneath your breath as he presses in again, certain you’d be able to feel him should you lay your palm over your abdomen.

Azriel groans with pleasure, moving smoothly in and out: slow but steady. Easing the both of you into the rhythm before he picks up the pace. Moans flow more frequently, exchanging noises on pleasure in a mutual give and take. Hips buck up against him, urging him deeper; you want to feel more of him.

“Az…” you pant, “please. I just want you tonight.” Bumps his nose against your own, increasing the rhythm to something better, something more suitable for the both of you. “Want it straight?” He murmurs, grinding into you, shadows skating across your skin, scraping over peaked nipples, sensitive with stimulation. You nod needfully. “No teasing tonight?” Shake your head, pleading with your eyes, fingers lacing with his at your jaw. Pull his hand away lightly, pressing kisses to his palm, affectionately adoring the scars. Vulnerability stretches between you, suddenly submerged deeper into intimacy.

“Please,” you request, moaning as his darkness makes its way between your thighs, sealing over their apex. A small smile softens his mouth, edges curving upward before nodding. “Okay,” he mumbles, “since you’ve been good.”

Relief has the coil tightening, pleasure frothing in the pit of your belly, tightening as he drives you closer to that edge. Touching the spots within you that he knows make you sob. Vision blurs, heartbeat spiking as that familiar beat drums into your bones, picking up tempo.

Lips part on a quiet, breathless moan, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure breaks, washing across your skin with delicious reprieve. His name pants from your lips, your own like a prayer on his. Hot spurts of cum spill into you, filling you to completion, finally melting across the mattress. Content to seep into his skin, splash as you liquefy with one another.

Wings shudder as pleasure rolls through his muscles, stuttered breath panting from his lips as he grinds into your heat, easing through those last waves of his high before settling at your side. An arm and a wing lay across your stomach, the latter fully concealing your lower body, keeping you contained within his warmth.

It doesn’t take long for either of you to gravitate toward one another, slotting perfectly as sleep weighs down.

He pulls you closer, shifting to his side, your back flush to his chest. Skin pressed to skin.

Content and silent.

Peace and quiet.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde

[eggedbellies]

being cum-trained by your monster boyfriend; they give you a littel more each time, a bigger load, and although you whine whenever they pull out, they promise it's so they don't hurt you. But by a month of regular pushing your limits, your belly has a little paunch after a session. Six months later, they can fuck you until you look six months pregnant, plugging you after to keep it all in, stroking your belly and promising that soon they'll be able to fill you so much that you won't be able to move. You dream of the day you can take every drop.

Six months later you lay on the bed, nothing but a bloated fuck-toy, brain fuzzy and body immobilised by your sloshing, cum-filled belly... you dozily stroke it as you hear the heavy footsteps approaching and your body throbs in anticipation of being even heavier...

[adoriin]

in space, we're here ! gojo x reader

when speaking about satoru, you have to stifle the grin that threatens to make itself known. many think he's a handful, affectionately scoffing at your poorly concealed lovesick gaze when you mention him as if they could never imagine coming home to his antics at the end of a long day.

honestly, you're grateful for that.

the satoru you know, the satoru you love to know, isn't half as obnoxious as he attempts to be outside your four walls; no, he's gentle, quiet even. gentle in the way his hands graze your skin as you would if you were feeling the petals of a delicate flower. he's quiet first thing in the morning and last thing at night especially, dozy and soft as he reaches for you with one hand and his mug with the other, preparing his morning coffee or herbal tea before bed. he's also attentive, careful. but that spans his entire being, always observing and acting carefully whether that's on missions paired with snarky quips and remarks or at home, as he hands you his half-drunken mug of tea he's seen you eye up for the last half hour with an affectionate roll of his eyes.

he's not a completely different person, you've never been exempt from his teasing. but his words are delivered with little grins and sweet gazes, calling you out on your bed hair whilst brushing some of the strands carefully, eyes fond as he presses a kiss to your temple as you dozily lean against him.

his attentiveness is his own worst enemy he realises. the front he puts on is carefully constructed, a window that allows him to be seen without anyone getting too close. after all, being the strongest draws in the strongest enemies, the strongest hardships. he'd always thought it'd be irresponsible, unethical even, to fall in love. for someone like him whose top priority has to be the world, how could he ever prioritise just one? even so, the start of your relationship wasn't as turbulent as some would expect, you'd both argue it was the most natural progression you'd ever seen. you were bright in a way he hadn't encountered before, subdued but always there, shining slow and steady like a star. he'd once rather poetically voiced the sentiment aloud, knowing that after the initial giggle at his cheesiness, you'd understand. for someone resembling the moon, so beautifully solitary, the stars were a natural lifelong companion. it was this that had him falling into steady routines with you way easier than he thought was possible.

you were there, waiting for him at the end of long days and sullen weather, cosied up in bed and looking like the personification of comfort itself. he redacted his thoughts fast, because in moments like this, he knows he's in over his head, he's fallen fast and hard and never been so grateful to be suspended above the ground. he knows he'll continue to fall for eternity as your hands rake through his freshly washed hair every night, as you speak about your day whether it be mundane or packed to the brim. he knows even as he finally succumbs to the exhaustion weighing his body down: he'll hold no regrets so long as he can wake up to you every morning and lay with you every night.

you're grateful.

for his presence, for the weight of his head on your chest, and the tufts of his moonlit hair tickling your chin. you're grateful as your fingers trace the cool band on his finger and the mutual promise sealed with a kiss; a promise that no matter the path of his orbit around the world, you'll be the closest star.

a/n: idk what this is mjus very in love with satoru at this point and it's all coming out in convoluted metaphors and rambles pls love it thank u pookies <;33

[sugar-omi]

Hi! Your writing is amazing and makes my day every time I see you post. Could I request Cove while trying for a baby with a female MC? He’s so sweet and emotional I can totally imagine it would be equal parts super fluffy/adorable and spicy/hot Thank you! ✨

omg ty thats so nice of you to say!!! also tysm for this rq, i've been waiting for someone to ask smth like this bc i was worried i was the only one thinkin shit like this!!! also i think this is a bit more horny than fluffy, which is why i tried to make up for it w lots of kisses from cove LOL but ykw.. i feel like a part 2 wouldnt be so bad either 👀

tags : NSFW, ok for fem/nb readers, after step 4/wedding dlc, buff cove lol, breeding kink, creampie, overstimulation, cove w oral fixation(? a bit implied), cunnilingus, cove "uses" a nickname that you can "insert" bc i can but also cant see him using pet names, + he calls u good girl, "multiple choice" dialogue (just read 1 of the colored text "options" than continue w the rest of the fic, theres no links or anything <3)

synopsis : you and cove try for a baby.

cove tries to be calm.

and he is! after a bit of panic of course, caused by his worries but excitement for fatherhood but also you want him to.. to... oh god he's too embarrassed to think about it, from finally deciding to have a baby the only natural next emotion is calm! he is cooler than a cucumber!

but now you're laid out under him, as beautiful as ever, and even after years of being together cove can't get enough of you; especially when you're so sweet to have like this.

"cove.." your gasp drug cove out of his daze.

you reach up and cup his face, cove leaning into your touch. "y/n.." he kisses your wrist.

"what're you thinking about?"

cove flushes. there's no way he could tell you exactly what he was thinking, saying that he found the idea of coming inside was totally different from thinking it and he was not ready to that something clicked in him when you finally talked about being ready for a baby...

"you.. just- just you, and how lucky i am." cove decided to distract you by kissing down your neck, leaving a new mark under your ear. thankfully it worked, although maybe you just gave it up because you already know what's going through his head.

he starts working his way down your body, and you fall back on the pillows and let cove treat himself to your cunt.

cove tossed your panties somewhere beyond the bed, his days of nervously folding your panties over. and he latches onto your thighs, sucking more marks into your skin and his fingers lovingly work your clit.

"cove.. i wan' more..." you tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on the strands. wordlessly he moves on to your twitchy core, his tongue slipping inside and lapping up your slick.

cove's boisterous ministrations has you grinding against his face, gasping as he works your sensitive clit and adds a couple fingers to the mix, speeding up the process so he can be inside you.

cove hopes you don't see him grinding against the mattress.

he sits up, his fingers spreading you open easily. while you're panting dozily, cove's fingers abandons your cunt so he can grab the lube from the bedside.

"habit.." cove laughs it off sheepishly.

he instinctually reaches for a condom, but realizes and a wave of heat rushes over him. you won't be needing those for awhile...

cove meets your hooded gaze, a knowing look in your eyes.

you grin, full of mischief. "guess we're gonna have to break it."

cove growls lowly, slapping a hand over his eyes. it does nothing to hide his blush and he curses himself when his cock twitches against his leg.

deciding to come out of hiding, cove peers at you from over his nose and you feel your own heart pick up sped at the stark look of his eyes. something about cove seems like he could devour you, but when he leans down to kiss you so tenderly you think otherwise.

cove poured the lube over his hand, coating his length and he hisses at the heat between his hand and cock. hazily cove thinks that this is the hardest he's been since he was a clumsy teenager.

cove captures you in another loving kiss, wanting to be close to you as he sinks inside.

this is your first time going without a condom, being connected like this has both of you holding onto each other, your nails scratching down his shoulder at the new but welcomed sensation.

this isn't the first time you and cove have done it unprotected, but it has been awhile so you both can't help but pull the other person closer, needing more.

cove buries his face in your shoulder, shaking from how wet and hot you are inside like this. he can feel the way your gummy walls flex around him and he pulls his hips back- the whine that comes out of your taut throat has cove closing his eyes and taking in your every sound as he moves so slowly, so sensually but so lovingly when he grinds his hips into yours.

finally, he finds the strength to remove himself from your shoulder, needing to see your face in ecstasy.

cove looked down at your own blissed out face, and if he could see his own face he'd notice that his own face his flushed and if it was possible, his pupils would turn into hearts from how lost in pleasure and love for you he's in.

he situates his hands on your hips, the pads of his thumbs rubbing affectionate circles into your skin.

"ah- cove, cove.. please move." you reach for him, intertwining one of his hands with your own.

he gives a kiss to the back of your hand, and when he rears back his hips to start a rough pace, if you could you'd think that the kiss was an apology for the way he's using your cunt.

cove's grip on your hand and hip is solid, it grounds you and the only thing you can think of is how deliciously cove is fucking you, his cock brushing and bumping against the sensitive and deepest parts of your insides.

you whine loudly and can't help but throw your head back because it's like he's going faster and when your eyes return from their trip to the back of your head, you open your eyes to feast on the sight of your husband/boyfriend.

and it's self explanatory why you're more aroused than a just moment ago; cove's hair is mused from all your tugging, and his glasses are long abandoned so that way he can see the way his cock pumps in and out of your cunt and the creamy ring around the base of his dick.

"ah- i love you. y-you're so beautiful..." cove soothes you, kissing your cheek.

"i- oh fuck right there!" your nails run down his chest, cove is going to be a mural of hickeys and scratches. "i love you too, ahh- cove!"

cove lets go of your hand in favor of your clit, already knowing your body well enough to know when you're going to cum.

"fuck... that's it, y/n, cum for me."

"hah, cove! f-finish with me, please. want- want..." you pant, hazy and driven to babbling from the way cove has worked you up all night.

"i know n/n, cum with me. that's it, good girl." cove leans down to kiss you.

tangled in a passionate kiss, your moans blend together as you finish. cove grinds his hips into you, his cock rubbing the deepest part of your insides and painting them white.

he falls into your shoulder, panting and planting a kiss there.

cove gets up, realizing you don't need a wall of muscle crushing you.

"y/n..."

he starts to pull out, and cove has another revelation that he did not think this through...

his cum is leaking from your spent hole, more cum pushing out with every squeeze of your insides, still twitchy from your orgasm.

"yes cove?"

cove swallows, meeting your eyes and he feels embarrassed that you already know what he's going to say. and that you clearly know how much this is turning him on.

"one.. one more round? i'll be more gentle, i just uh.."

you put your ankle on cove's shoulder. "cove, fuck me again."

cove tenses up, this is gonna end up being a long night...

[cannesavenue]

Wolfstar Microfic: May Prompt 1 - Accidental Eavesdropping

Word count: 734 @wolfstarmicrofic

The fact that soundproofing spells weren’t built into the four-posters was embarrassing for the entire school, honestly. You’d think they’d come standard these days.

James was sure Peter would have loved to hide his homesickness that first year. Though coaxing him out of the bed to talk through his feelings had been the beginning of them all trusting one another. While Remus had been the first to master the spell, they could still tell when it had been an especially bad moon, even without the painful-sounding grunts and deep breathing escaping the closed curtains. Sirius would have used it to cover the sound of James snoring, something that had become worse starting third year.

“Honestly mate! I’m starting to believe that your mother is an erumpent.” Sirius had said one morning, bleary-eyed and astonishingly tousled.

“You’ve met my mum,” James had replied.

“And she’s lovely,” Remus had chimed in, looking from Sirius to James and back again, dark circles under his eyes. “You should hear yourself, truly. Can’t be healthy.”

Now, by their sixth year, they’d all mastered silencing and soundproofing and privacy spells. But with the benefit of time and familiarity, they weren’t often used. Peter was more homesick at home than Hogwarts, James’s father had recommended a potion for his snoring, and Remus’s bad moons were fewer and further between. And the conversations often went late into the night; better to leave the beds unspelled and fall asleep talking.

And so it was that James, having taken a blow from a bludger—light enough that Madam Pomfrey told him to rest in his dorm, though forbidding him from the week’s practices—found himself in bed in the middle of a sunny Saturday. Light shone through the windows in unfamiliar ways this time of day and, the pounding in his head only slightly better with Madam Pomfrey’s ministrations, he drew his curtains.

He woke, dozily, to dim maroon and amber light within the curtains, and footsteps without.

“Peter?” It was Remus.

“Chess club,” replied Sirius.

“James?”

“Bludger. He’s in the Hospital Wing. Fine though.”

He was too drowsy to correct Sirius. The pulled curtains might have been a giveaway, but he often left them closed, diving through them in the morning and before bed. There was silence for a time, and he thought they might have left. James nearly fell asleep again.

“About last night,” started Remus. He sounded nervous. James was suddenly wide awake. Last night?

Last night they’d been out after curfew, first under the cover of the cloak (Peter as a rat, for space, though they were still nuts to butts) until Remus broke away, claiming the crouching was hurting his neck. Sirius snapped at him about Madam Pomfrey, but by that point they were far enough from the tower and Mrs. Norris that Phase 2 of the plan engaged. With a sigh, James handed the map to Sirius and they’d gone four different directions. Everything had seemingly gone to plan. Until Remus and Sirius hadn’t shown up in the dorm by the arranged time. Peter and James had fallen asleep uneasily, only to find them in their beds in the morning. Sirius didn’t mention anything at breakfast before practice, and the three of them had left Remus sleeping. The moon was coming, and he needed it.

What had happened last night?

“Look, Moony, we don’t have to talk about it. It was stupid.”

James propped himself up on his elbows, trying not to rustle the bedsheets. Talk about what?

“It wasn’t.”

“You—what?”

“It wasn’t stupid. Well, maybe the part where we didn’t lock the door—”

“Lucky that cat’s afraid of dogs,” Sirius said darkly.

“—but I’m sick of pretending I don’t feel this way.” Remus continued. “I think you are, too.”

Sirius paused, hesitant. “So you don’t want to be just friends?”

“I don’t think friends do what we did last night.” Remus was firm, a hint of a laugh creeping into his voice. “At least, I don’t want to touch any of my other friends like that.”

“I don’t want you to, either.”

“Only you.”

“Only me.”

Silence again. James strained to hear, then smiled widely at sounds that were distinctly not friendly. And then he heard Remus moan. Under his breath, he cast a quick spell to block out any further noises from coming through the curtains.

Upon further reflection, maybe the silencing spells should become standard practice again.

[denim-devil]

Dauntless | D.W

Summary - A close call has Dean asking questions, hoping to gain some clarity of the current situation, the flames ignite bringing the butterflies that had once lay dormant, to life.

Warnings - Soft!Dean, Alcohol, Smut, M x M, P in A, Spanking (slightly), Dom!Dean, Dirty talk, Mentions of a certain white liquid I-, Kissing, FLUFFY DEAN-

“Not Proof read- sorry”

Dean hasn’t realised.

How could he? With each swig of whiskey that trickled down his chest with a certain wanting warmth brought his thoughts into a swirling mess.

His eyes grew slacker by the minute, focusing on the way you laughed at his stupid mindless jokes. At first he thought it was because you had as much alcohol as him to succumb to the euphoria that closely followed but no…he saw the way you glanced, eyeing up his fully clothed form.

Dean tried to let it go, with each passing moment his focus grew shorter and shorter. Watching the older hunter shuffle in his seat, you had guessed the wooden structure left nothing but an aching numbness that chimed like church bells, one of his legs crossing over the other.

Unphased by the sudden bodily manoeuvre, you go back to sipping on the bronze liquid Dean happily shared between the two of you.

“So…what was that back there? Did you have a plan?” Dean rasped, plump lips lingering on the edge of the smooth glass, ridges of detailed shapes littering the outside, his fingers delicately gripping the cold object.

You shrugged allowing the liquid courage to take control, mind empty and your tongue dozily laying still in your mouth as if words themselves were hard to form.

The room fell in silence, the bunkers structure stuttering, disputing low rumbles, you had guessed it was the age of the frame, bricks beginning to fade with time, it was easy to lose focus, especially with experienced hunter sat closely next to you.

“No…”

It was clearly painted across your expressionless face, his eyebrow cocks as if confused but also curious. The whole ordeal in itself costed the use of your left shoulder for the next couple of days, the stiffness still lingered but with each sip of the beverage at hand left you feeling limp and unbothered.

He could see it, how the whiskey melded your new form as if it gave you the strength to hold your lips closed before letting something carless slip past and into the open, into Dean’s ears.

“No? Why do I not believe you?”

The questions at hand left you sinking into the rickety chairs of the library. Each passing moment ticked with time itself as if in every possible outcome it would leave you cold and trapped.

The sudden crumpling of his shirt, each wrinkle shadowed by the dim light above growing as he reached over, his hand settling above your own as if was ment to, attached to the skin of your open palm, fingers dancing along the heated skin.

“Tell me”

He ordered, his tone stern and deep, wanting to uncover the factor that had lead you into a certain type of doom and gloom.

At first you had tried gaining some sort of control, tying each and every word into a sentence worth while but with each passing second it proved harder. The truth was almost hurtful but it was also showered in gold, a blinding sort of glimmer that rolled up in the back of your mouth and out into the open.

“I’m afraid, Dean I can’t”

Your words were like a dagger. Surely you would hold and place every inch of trust and respect into the man that had made something out of you. His fingers almost soothed the irradiating warmth with coolness that managed to settle you, his eyes slightly flinched knowing that he could be the reason.

“Try me”

His words were sharp like the same dagger that struck him moments ago, cutting into your skin harshly forcing the lump to unravel in your throat, bubbling up into a strung up sentence.

At first you tried, cheeks twitching as you shuffled to face him, fearful of what he would think, how careless it was of you to be distracted in such a dangerous job.

“I- It was you…at first I tried…I really did to ignore it”

You stopped, palm growing sweaty as Dean’s own covered yours, which instantly calmed you like a bedtime story, putting you in a trans-like state which inevitably forced you to speak nothing but the truth.

“I couldn’t function with you so close to me-“

Dean gripped onto you hard, hard enough to make you stop like a deer caught in headlights. The glass he held so tight onto was discarded before he pealed his crossed leg away, both planted securely onto the cemented floor beneath.

You could feel it, the change. The way he fumbled and lost control of his features, how he somehow had gotten closer, his breath fanning across your now crimson cheeks.

“I nearly costed you your own life?”

His mouth hung agape, brows again burying themselves lower slightly. Nodding, eye contact seemed to be the only comfort, followed by his calloused palm that clung to your own tightly.

“N-No, not you, but…you were so close to me-“

It clicked. Like train-tracks slotting into its own fitted journey, his heart beat wickedly picked up, ringing in his own ears clouding his judgement. It was obvious now, just as time itself, it was obvious.

He grew closer, lips almost searching for it’s perfect surface, your own. He held his own, awaiting a certain go-head before taking ownership of the situation, eyes dimming from a emerald green to a suggestive darkness that rocked your entire existence, a growing lust travelling from the pits of his stomach upwards.

“How about now…sweetheart?”

The nickname rolled from his tongue effortless, stilling, you can only keep focus on how his whole demeanour changes much like seasons but this one stayed, the concentration that plastered across his face only drew the two of you closer until the gap was no more, his lips attaching to your own fiercely.

Dean wanted you in more ways then one, away from here, riddled away in his sheets, touching and holding you in every way possible.

——

You had no plans on messing this up.

Despite how small and rickety Dean’s bed was, you still managed to both fit onto it, slotting above his now naked body, hands and legs moving against each other igniting the everlasting lust you kept locked away for years.

It was easy for Dean, he was protective in ways that could seem possessive, loving in ways that could seem down-right heavenly, he had you right where he desired.

“I’ve dreamed about this…”

His mumble was loud enough to send shockwaves throughout your body which splayed itself across his own, against his body, somehow you had both managed to find a position that suited the circumstances.

It’s everything you had imagined and more, back pressed closely to his chest, his hands soothe small circles into your thighs before picking them up, just enough so they were level with your ears, body now folding in half just how Dean wanted you.

“Me to…”

You shyly hiss once his thick, reddened tip lingers against your pucker, his smirk growing once you needily whine into the thin air of his room.

“You want it that bad? Why didn’t you say so-“

His tone was deep and lust-filled, distracting you enough to push himself upward and inside, grazing the velvet walls you claimed, writing his mark with each inch.

“Dean-“

It couldn’t have felt better, biting your lips to suppress the hungry moans threatening to expose the two of you hastily gripping onto strong biceps wrapped around your thighs, slightly grounding you enough to keep composure.

He was thick and long, each ridge, each vein easily felt against the disappearing muscle that pushed the limits you were use to already, feeling full had never felt so good.

“You know how many nights- fuck; that I stayed up…” finally bottoming out, he stills allowing you to utilise the stretched out feeling, his balls pressed firmly against the cleft of your ass, enough to send you into overdrive, you had finally acquired all of Dean.

“Jerking off over you and your pretty little ass-“

Guttural, loud, pornographic. Each word described the temptation that riddled you both and the moan that slipped from his open lips moments ago, it felt surreal to be in the warmth and grip of your teacher, and the best hunter the world had ever had.

“I- I can’t”

Mumbling incoherently, blubbering as the tears slip from your damp lashes. It gave Dean both the pride and confidence to carry on, pulling himself out until his tip lingered on your entrance.

“You can honey, i’ve got you”

Sinking back in with ease, he could feel it all, how soft and wet and pretty you were for him, how it all joined and created something unfathomable, something from a porno Dean was frequent with, but this, this was real and it had his emerald greens rolling back into his head and his hands trembling against your sweat-slicked skin.

“Oh fuck- sweetheart, so fucking good for me”

He was almost insatiable, from his confidence to the cocky attitude that had you a mess, cock weeping and twitching with every word and every touch.

“Dean, feel so full fuck-“

Smirking against your neck, he breaths, tonging at the spot that had you shaking in his grip. Ultimately his stamina had grown, fulfilling every need you had, like a bucket list, checking off every single damn thought you previously had of him.

In time, his speed grows to a certain speed that littered each corner of the room with loud slaps, his balls smashing against your cheeks with urgency, although lewd and slick, Dean had no plan of stopping, sliding in with each lap that had now moved to the shell of your ear.

“Wish I had you sooner, woulda stopped me from fucking the wrong one-“

He was vulgar to say the least, trapping you against his body, you had no escape but that was the dream you were once sold on, now, it was a reality you wanted to delve in for eternity, wrapped up in his body, entangled with nothing but the lust and drive to see stars.

“W-Wish I had you sooner-“

Dean didn’t think twice to turn your head slightly with his strong grip, his fingers scrunching up your hair, smashing your lips together, engulfed by the flames that surrounded you both.

It didn’t last long, but it was short and sweet, all tongue and love. You were mistaken if you thought Dean had any softness in his bones when he began to fuck up into you without remorse, holding your legs up and wide, hitting the bundle of nerves that had you limp against his front.

Doe-eyed and delirious from his affection, each thrust sending you into a blissful heaven, you let go, the walls crumbling around finally falling completely, you spray into the open air, each glop landing onto the manly forearms holding you still.

“That’s it- atta boy-“

With a swift slap to your glutes that rang out like a rusty spring snapping, Dean holds you down by the hips, slowly rolling, riding out his high. A few “fucks” had managed to escape him, voice now hoarse from the lingering tipsiness.

Each splatter painted your insides white, finally claiming what he had dreamed of forever, you.

Panting, breathing in the same air, your both left feeling weak and limp but better, it was almost as vivid as the dreams you had experienced in the past that involved the very man that had you cum hands free.

He chuckles, green eyes flicking up to meet yours. His glare was sincere, sweet almost overbearing if it hadn’t been for the soft pat he gave your ass, slowly enveloping your lips with his.

It lasted longer then before, more lips then anything else, deep and inviting. Pulling away for air, glancing down at him had never felt so intimate, his smile big and bright, blinding in every best way possible.

“Not the first time that’s happened”

He points to the mess dripping down your thighs and backside, chuckling in amusement as you blush, burying your head in his neck giving him the right amount of space to slip out of you, already you feel empty, yearning for the next time.

“That’s the first time it’s happened…”

Mumbling against his neck, breathing his scent in, the aftershave that spoke to his character invading your senses, delirium flooding back into your veins.

“It won’t be the last sweetheart, for a very long time-“

You laugh immediately before pecking him on the lips, returning to nuzzle in the crook of his neck.

It was if you were both lost in the darkness of the room, tangled together, damp and basking the afterglow of bliss, witnessing the relaxed smile he offered was your golden ticket to a happy every after, his arms holding you close, he had you now and you had him…

[prince-toffee]

Life Is A Highway

Part Two (of Three)

Art by the absolutely amazing @themazziah go check them out and follow them.

Day Two (of Seven)

The following trip might have been one of the most bizarre experiences in Glimmer’s life, which spoke volumes because her life was anything but ordinary. Over the course of the next few days Glim learned things about the clones she never wanted to know or ever thought to ask. For example, when she woke up next morning, she stretched and dozily made her way to the ship's washroom, still somewhat asleep. She yawned, “Oh, ‘Dora you won't believe the dream I had, heh, I was sent on a road trip through space with Hordak and a bunch of...” Her eyes widened at the sight inside the washroom, “...clones?”

It was V, of course, ‘brushing’ his teeth with a... there was no way of putting it otherwise, a knife. Apparently clone teeth were too sharp for regular toothbrushes, and floss, and attracted tartar like cement. “Do you mind?” He mumbled through the foaming toothpaste.

Glimmer was speechless, her eye just twitched. “Yeah, get in line.” She turned to the other three up against the wall in a line, waiting impatiently. It was no dream. However, that seemed like a quick stop compared to how long it took Hordak to go through his whole hair dye procedure. It felt like he was in there for hours. However, no matter how much he tried he could never get rid of that one streak of white hair that curled and always fell down against his face. It was the only part of his hair that refused to dye blue. Entrapta often remarked how much she loved it, a little symbol and representation of his imperfection. En always reminded him that she loved all of him just the way he was. But for Hordak it represented a much darker thought, the constant reminder of what lay beneath, of who he ‘belonged to’. Constantly attempting to cover up his old life with his new identity, the blue hair, the makeup, the dress, the armour Entrapta and he worked on together. And yet, every time he looked in the mirror all he saw was his Brother.

-     - -

Glimmer had tripped… again, over some discarded armour plates that were just left on the floor (several times mind you), like right now, her face was planted firmly in the floor. A muffled groan escaped her throat, she just... laid there for a moment, and for a moment she contemplated whether she should even get up. What’s even the point? Moe wheeled up to the Queen, “Uhmm... are you alright? Uh-” He turned back to face Hordak behind him, “Your majesty? Right?” He checked with Hordak about the terminology, who simply nodded. “Yeah, okay I got that right.” Mo murmured that part to himself. Glimmer murmured something incomprehensible. Mo just gave a half smile paired with a confused look, “Alright... Okay… Oh-kay.” He hesitated, but turn around, and wheeled himself away giving the Queen some space.

After a moment and a deep sigh, she finally picked herself up, her pinkish-purple, glittery hair all messed up. As she parted her hair and tried to fix it best she could she caught sight of Hordak picking up the littered armour components, like a middle-aged mom picking up dirty laundry after their kids. The comparison was not completely unfounded as the Lord of Metal and Darkness glared up to the dark ceiling where V was lounging about on a bed of loose wires like a hammock, and proceeded to tell him off, “V! What did I tell you about leaving your armour plating on the floor! I'm tired of picking up your life support systems after you! And that goes for everyone in this spacecraft!”

V groaned, closed the book he was reading, and dropped down, “Alright, alright, I'm on it. Geez give over.” Moe rolled his eyes, but made sure Hordak didn't see it. The Queen of BrightMoon, her arms droopy by her side and head down low, slowly made her way over to the couch, her place of residence. And fell backwards onto the soft seating, slouching, her royal etiquette, manners, and posture completely gone. In a way it was nice, a little freeing in a way, no longer having to put on a performance for her court and the public when addressing the masses. She could just relax, I'll be it she would have preferred to relax with her friends, but this was... fine she supposed... her friends. Glim’s eyes widened, a light bulb idea lit up above her. The first smile of the day. She reached down for one of her bags and rummaged around inside, and managed to pull out her holo-pad. She could just call Adora, her friends were in arms reach! Perhaps this trip wouldn't be so bad after all, she could just keep to herself – just ask Adora how her day has been, what she's been up to. She so longed to hear her voice. Only day two, and she already missed her, and... and what is happening here? Why was it taking so long? The loading circle icon kept turning and the system of the pad kept chugging, and – nothing. And then the next message that popped up on the screen almost broke her heart – ‘No Connection’. Alone once more. She scowled at the box delivering her the message. She almost snapped the pad in half. But she just released the breath she was apparently holding in. And her posture went slack once more.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

-     - -

Day Three (of Seven)

Glim had little to do within The Annihilation, it very much felt like watching paint dry, and so as you can imagine the walls of the ship weren't entertaining the Queen very much. So, she turned her head to the art corner and watched Moe dance his pencil brush against the canvas. The clone artist had been studying the void of outer space for over an hour now and copying it onto the blank white canvas and proceeded to masterfully depict all of its natural detail and beauty - specks of stars, swirling gas giants, mesmerising planet rings and asteroid belts, colourful beauty of nebulous, and crashing waves of solar oceans at the surface of suns. Every piece was gorgeous, a masterpiece. So pretty it actually compelled her to speak up, “It's gorgeous.”

“Hmm?” Moe half turned to her, eyes still on the painting.

“I know you don't think it, but it is, it's amazing. You should be proud of your craft.”

“Hmm.” He nodded slightly, “…Yes. I'm rather happy with it. I think I like it more than my regular work, because not every piece of art has a meaning, but this – this one is different.” The clone remarked with a smile.

“Oh? How so?” She asked genuinely.

“I'm painting these for Drag, you know, poor kid misses so much. He always tries to learn as much as he can about each place we visit. He never knows how much time he has, he hates having these blind spots in his mind... I guess this is my way of trying to help the kid feel... more complete.”

“You seem to be doing most of the heavy lifting in that regard.” Glimmer remarked, clearly seeing Moe as the most well-adjusted person among the clones onboard.

Moe smiled warmly as he turned to view the view outside his window, “I wouldn't be so sure about that.” There, out on the wing of the drop ship, hanging on for his dear life, just out in the coldness of space - was V. A huge toothy semi-psychotic smile on his face joyous face. Good thing clones didn't need oxygen. V reached out and caught in his hand a glistening crystal rock, one of many, out of a field of orbiting similar yet unique crystals. Hordak had passed nearby a ring of a gas giant. V popped the future-to-be gift into a pouch on his belt which was built into his armour. His brothers always collected souvenirs from places they've been to, all the places and wonders Drag missed. The boy loved learning, he had an entire collection of pamphlets and leaflets from all their destinations as proof of that. The boy loved knowing, but could never learn all or enough. And so Drag’s brothers collected souvenir after souvenir, The Defects had no home, no place to call their own, so they chose to build a new foundation, brick by brick.

-     - -

Glimmer’s eyes shot open, awoken by noise. It was night, well, what would you consider night in outer space, it was the ‘sleep cycle’ as Hordak put it. Her eyes darted around the setting looking for possible attackers, always vigilant like General Juliet taught her ever since she was a kid. Especially with a handful of untrustworthy clones onboard with her. But she couldn't find them with her sight, they had dimmed the lights in the living room and all had left to their personal bedrooms. Glim didn't know if clones even needed to sleep, or if clones don't but defects do, or maybe they just slept differently. But they had left the Queen to rest in slumber peacefully without distractions. Which was an unexpected, kind gesture. So, who was here with her? That was when she spotted someone, a figure cloaked in shadow. Glimmer scanned it best she could; Pointed ears, red eyes, white hair - definitely clone, but not a familiar one, not one she was used to seeing. She silently and still fully observed the defect without alerting him to her presence – he was holding and staring at one of Moe’s paintings, he was admiring them all and… crying? Gently and quietly sobbing. That was when Glim finally put one and one together, and recognised the clone as Drag, conscious and awake. Probably wondering how much time he had missed this time.

-     - -

Day Four (of Seven)

The Annihilation had come to a halt just in time to save Glimmer from madness. She had been walking back and forth along the length of the ship for hours. Bored out of her mind. The fourth day on this journey through space, of being trapped in a metal box surrounded by the void of space. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to explore, just stuck there, with no friends, and no one to talk to. Moe was nice enough, but there was only so much two strangers could talk about. V was chatty, Glim wished he wasn't, he wasn't annoying or snarky, every conversation was just... depressing. Drag was once again unconscious when she woke up in the morning. Hordak was avoiding her, best he could in a confined space like that. And Lee was just… a ghost, she could barely catch a glimpse of him.

Her back and forth pace continued, every few minutes checking her Chronometer, a bracer on her wrist. The device was a glorified watch with a fancy name and an uppercase letter. Hordak had awkwardly handed it to her to aid her in keeping track of time while in between planets, travelling across the dark ocean. She almost wished he hadn't. Not knowing was better. The device displayed several different times on the screen; How much time has passed since the departure from Etheria. The voyages estimated duration. The current time back home. And the time on the nearest planet.

Things were going along normally enough; Moe was painting something on a canvas. Lee was in the small kitchen adjacent to the living room ‘talking’ telepathically to a very distracted V who was rummaging all throughout the cabinets looking for something.

“Huh.” V remarked, pocking his whole head inside the food cabinet.

“What?” “What?” Moe and Lee asked at the same time.

Lee: “Don’t-”

Moe: “Jinx.”

Lee: “Primedamnit.”

V just continued, “I was doing the daily ration measuring check, seeing what I can prep for dinner, and the food amounts are totally off, we’re burning through our food way too fast. So, either Drag is going on snack runs while sleepwalking or we have a vermin problem.”

Drag remained still and unmoving, a nice, weighted blanket covering him now. The Annihilation was running on autopilot, and Hordak was off in a corner on his own, sat down on the cold floor, charging some device in hand. While Glimmer was marching around, she knew she shouldn't have, but couldn't help but to glance over his shoulder. There he was, the Lord of The Horde, the baron of bedload, the prince of plagues, the dread lord, the man who once held Etheria in a chokehold – now hunched over on the floor, holo-pad in hand, constantly refreshing the screen, a very similar text box was displayed on the screen – ‘No Connection’. He sighed. He was trying to reach Entrapta. But he could not. She was once more an ocean of stars away. The two were torn apart once more. The universe had a diabolical sense of humour. He longed for her voice, so full of passion, excitement, enjoy – she made him feel happy to be alive. At least he had the suit of armour she bestowed upon him, a shield which protected him and soothed his pain. It was a comfort in dark times, a warm reminder that even galaxies away she still managed to protect him. She really was the perfect woman. Hordak smiled at the thought of her. And then once it passed, the bad thoughts returned and the notion of her not being there saddened him further.

There was a sorrow they both shared, for a split-second Glimmer considered connecting with him, but she just shook that absurd notion off.

Suddenly, a beeping came from the ship's cockpit, it seized the attention of both the Princess and the clone Lord as both their heads whipped to the direction of the sound. Hordak left the holo-pad and with a grunt lifted himself up, and strolled to the control panel. Glim followed close behind. “Is that- what I think it is?” She asked slightly on edge.

Hordak hummed as he scratched his incredibly square chin, “Yes. Something just destroyed the decoy ship.” He remarked grimly.

“Uh oh.” V injected himself into the conversation, “Looks like you've got some fans your majesty.”

Glimmer chose to ignored him, “Do we have footage? Do we know if it was the Primusian pirates?”

“We do. But the bait ship was galaxies away, it'll take a few minutes for the footage to travel back to us.”

“Do you think the lack of bodies is going to set them off?” Glimmer asked quizzically.

“Hopefully not. In the meantime, while we wait for the transfer, we’ll restock and refuel at the next pit stop. An upcoming gas station.”

Glimmer’s eyes widened, “We're stopping to get out?! As in, to walkabout?” She clapped her hands together, “Yes! I am in, so in! Let's get out of here!... No offence.” She turned back to the rest of the clones.

Moe shrugged, “None taken. V has that effect on people.” He remarked amused.

Hordak looked unsure, “I... I am unsure. Arriving at a fuelling stop with the supposed dead Queen of Etheria – this could unmake the entire mission.” He remarked awkwardly.

Glimmer pondered upon it, after a second the Queen snapped her fingers, “Not if they don't see me.” Hordak quirked his brow, intrigued. Glimmer smiled, and then she disappeared. No woman stood before them anymore.

V exclaimed, “She got raptured!” Lee just slightly smacked his older brother in the back of the head.

Glim, still invisible, sighed, “No. I'm the Queen of Light. I can bend light around my person, making yours truly, invisible.”

“I didn't know you could do that.”

“No. No you did not.”

V remarked, “So, what? When we talk to you we’ll just be talking to thin air?”

“Nothing new for you then.” Moe responded.

“I do not know.” Hordak replied unconvinced.

“I'm the Queen of Etheria, it's not like you can order me around. I'm literally your boss.”

“Fair enough.” He could not argue. He huffed in defeat.

-     - -

The Annihilation soon docked at (checkes notes) Bibo’s Gas Stop, a literal embodiment of the term ‘the middle of nowhere’ which was the precise wording used on the comical sign at the port where they docked. The moment the bay doors to the Annihilation opened Glimmer practically leapt out of the ship, far too excited about the grungy, filthy, dirty, greasy, rundown space gas station. But she was just desperate to explore a brand new area other than the metal confined box flying through the void of space she was caged. Even though it was an awful place.

“Sweet breathing room, how I've missed you.” Glimmer reached her hands up into the sky as if worshipping the sun. Not that anyone saw that, luckily for her no one witnessed the embarrassment, once again completely invisible.

Moe rolled down the ramp behind, “Eh- your majesty, were ever you are, please stay nearby, we are meant to be your envoy.”

The rest of the crew marched out behind. Hordak’s head panned upwards to examine the curious energy dome encapsulating the station. “Truly fascinating. An energy field incasing a constantly adapting atmosphere all planted on a rogue asteroid which somehow corrected itself on a Goldilocks zone rotation around the system star. Perhaps an Atmo-Sphere Engine, but how does it atmosphere composition adjust to every individual, fascinating. Perhaps equipped with 360° celestial thrusters that maintain the asteroid within the Goldie- what?” The tone changed quickly to his standard cold harsh demeanour as his head snapped to a chuckling V.

 “Fascinating.” V imitated Hordak and cackled.

Hordak rolled his eyes behind the red lenses, his arms and shoulders retreated under his black cape, and turned away from his older brother. “Ugh.” It was clear that being around Entrapta for so long had rubbed off on him. “I'll refuel the ship and get new oxygen canisters for the Queen. Distract yourselves somehow, and do not bother me.” He reached into a pouch on his waist and pulled out a golden credit card, “Go pay for it. And do not attract too much attention, please.”

Before V could snatch the card, Lee took it away and began to walk forwards to the gas station building. With V following close behind, “Alright, but I have to get some extra stuff for the rest of the trip... Don't look at me like that, I do! Scout’s honour!” V crossed his heart, but on the wrong side. Lee just rolled his eyes.

One of the customers looking through the magazine stalls noticed something peculiar; the store doors sliding open without anyone walking in. The alien raised a brow. After a few seconds Moe wheeled in, an awkward smile plastered on his face, he pointed at the sliding doors with his thumb, “Doors, am I right?” And quickly sped off.

Lee waltzed directly to the space-cashier and handed them the card, and raised six fingers up indicating pump six where The Annihilation was docked. The space-teen behind the desk was a bit intimidated by Lee's looming stature, that of a massive rectangle with red eyes. The teen with space-acne swallowed a ball of saliva in their throat, took the card and began the financial transfer. V just stood motionlessly at the cash. Meanwhile, V was rummaging through the store shelves, scrambling and skittering, under his breath chuckling, grabbing various food products off the shelves, huddling a huge massive ball with food against his chest, he could have used a basket or a trolley, but he didn't. He finally arrived at the cash register and dumped the mount of food on the table. “And also this.” V and Lee exchanged looks, “What? Hordak’s girlfriend’s got plenty on that card. I'm sharing the wealth, if anything I'm the good guy here.”

“No.” Lee remarked simply. He pointed his finger back towards the rest of the store gesturing for V to put back everything he had taken.

Meanwhile, Moe and Glimmer were perusing the small aisles of the rundown store, “Look at all of this neat stuff. Galaxy star maps. Antenna muffs. Space-Barnacle remover acid. Eldrich cosmic horror bobbleheads.” Something else drew her attention, “Oh, they have customizable licence plates for ships, eh, none of them have my name on it.”

“You know you're getting excited over gas station trinkets, right kid?”

“It's not just- it's new. All this is new to me. It's wonderful, there's so much to see, so much that you'll never get to see in your lifetime. So many things pass us by every day. And you won't experience any of it in an office in an ivory tower.”

“Where’s all this coming from all of a sudden? Why so invested?”

“I don't know. Because learning itself, discovery itself is… fun you know?”

Moe smiled, “Yeah, I do. The beauty of life and all that. I get it, more than you know.”

“It's just nice not being trapped in my office all day every day, flooded by mountains of paperwork, trapped in that damn box hour after hour running an entire planet. I used to go on adventures and quests! And now I just have to watch the world go by from my castle window.”

“...Maybe this will be good for you.”

“The Cthulhu bubbleheads?”

“No, The- What did V call it? The road trip.”

“Huh.”

Moe pulled out a few white and red circular coins, looking like it was made out of white chocolate. He handed the coins to Glimmer. He picked out a licence plate and presented it to the Queen, “How about a souvenir?” The plate read, ‘Glenn’, close enough she supposed. Glimmer gave a small smile and accepted the gift.

Glimmer purchased the souvenir, through Moe of course. She gave Lee the side eye at the space-cash register, it wasn't possible, but it almost seemed like he could see her. They moved on and out. Hordak was hauling new oxygen tanks on board of the ship. “We done?”

“Yeah, put this up somewhere nice.” Moe waved the plate around, Hordak looked at it confused.

“I didn't know you guys needed oxygen.” Glimmer examined the metallic containers.

“We don't. All for you, your majesty.” Hordak replied while wheeling the heavy canisters onboard.

“How thoughtful of you Hordak.” She remarked with a smirk. “Do we... have to go right away? I've barely stretched my legs.”

“Hmm, I don't know, we should maintain our schedule.”

“Could we at least make some other stops along the way? Doesn't it drive you crazy, being trapped inside a metal basement flying through space?” Hordak did not respond. Confined spaces were all he knew; Corridors, ships, pods, labs, the inside was his environment to the point where sunlight at times was an annoyance to him. “Come on come on can't we explore for a bit longer?”

Just then they heard a WHAM, Hordak looked up, his face deflated with tired annoyance. Glimmer turned back to see V come on bursting out from the doors of the gas station, he was carrying the ball of food Lee denied him before, he ran in zigzags, packets of various products slipping through his grasp and falling to the ground. He looked panicked. “Run! Run!” V ran past Hordak and Glimmer.

Hordak narrowed his eyes, “What. Did. You. Do?”

V furiously tapped the lock button on the ramp bay doors, “Don't be mad.”

“What did you do?!”

“I said don't be mad!”

Suddenly, the doors of the gas station slammed open once again. There was the cashier and what must have been the manager of the store with... a laser shotGUN! The manager cocked the gun. Hordak’s eyes widened, “oh no. Everyone inside! Now!” He rushed everyone onboard, practically picking Glimmer up and hauling her in. BLAMO! Laser gunshot. Moe yelped a bit too loud.

Glimmer quickly ducked and scrambled up the ramp into the drop ship, the Queen rummaged in her pocket, grabbing a handful of cash and flung it out the ship, while yelling , “Sorry!” The ramp clamped shut. Thrusters heated up and blasted out plasma fire, and The Annihilation launched off into the void of space. Hordak and Glimmer snapped their heads over to V and glared at him furiously.

V raised his hands up almost as if protecting his face, “OK, OK, I know, I know- buuut let me make it up to you.” He sneered. Glimmer and Hordak gave each other a silent look, their fury steadied.

-     - -

What followed, Glimmer could not comprehend in the moment. The Queen of Light watched the crew of clones unfolded and convert the main living room couch into a dining table. Positioned chairs around for all. Glimmer sat down just as the rest of the crew took their seats, she had taken Drag’s spot. No one mentioned anything, but Glimmer could feel Lee's cold stare, and it said it all. Glim just sat stiffly, unsure of how to conduct herself in this setting, all the brothers were engaged some casual mundane conversation. She looked off to the side, one of the corners of the drop ship had a little kitchen set up; cabinets, cupboards, a chopping station, a hob, and a sink. It was all impressively compact. Glimmer doubted that any of it was standard of a regular Horde dropship, it must’ve been custom made. Looked nice, was that oak? Anywho. There was V, cooking. It was a strange sight. And it seemed like she was the only one surprised by this behaviour. Was this his regular routine?

Hordak was sitting across from her; Glimmer had never seen the ex-Lord of the Horde like this, so casual. He wore a simple, loose short sleeved shirt, a long black dress, and his blue curly hair draped over the front of his tired face. His black eye make-up slightly more messy and worn. His red lenses off, his red irises in the open. The warlord that almost conquered her world, once feared, was now hunched over a holo-pad on the table. He kept refreshing the device, that same loading circle that taunted her did so to him. He looked tired and frustrated. Not knowing why the device was not working. A low grumble escaped him, almost a purr.

“Here we are!” V announced as he placed a plate in front of Glimmer, “Chow down.” He gave a toothy smile, it was genuine, but Glimmer felt a little unsettled none the less. She just awkwardly stiffly smiled at V, V responded by widening his grin even further. Glimmer tried to outdo him but her smile wobbled.

“So... What's this? Poison?” Glimmer quirked a brow.

“It's caviar. Zenbaaran roast meat. Faybian ursa-berry jello. Oombackis rice and veggies. Defrosted crockets.”

“From?”

“The freezer.” He remarked matter of factly, then his voice peaked again, “Bone apple sit!”

“That's not- ugh” Did Lee just sigh telepathically? Can you even do that?

“The stuff you stole? Was food. For dinner?... you cook? Dinners?” Glim couldn't hide how flabbergasted and surprised she was by this simple concept. She just couldn't picture a clone doing something so bland, mundane, and... and kind for his ‘family’. Going about it the wrong way, but with good intention, maybe.

“Not just dinners. It should last as the rest of the journey. Plus, I slapped some cash on the counter, fake money, sure,” he shrugged, “but still.” V sat down without a plate in front of him, and kicked his feet up on the table.

Which Hordak immediately swiped off the table and remarked scowling, “No feet on the table.” His tone shifted from stern to lax and soft, “V may be a loudmouth moron with a weird nose, but if there's something he knows how to do, it's cook.”

“I'll take it. And no electronic devices while we're eating dinner at the dinner table, young man.” V marked to Hordak about the holo-pad on the table. Hordak grumbled, but retreated the pad off the table. V leaned back against his chair.

“And nothing for you?” Glim asked the vulture-like man.

“Don’t care much for it. Not my thing.” V shrugged.

The clones dug in. Glimmer’s eyes scanned the table, still slightly unsure, only then did the Queen realise how hungry she was. She had poor experience with clone dinners, but... the food did look good. She picked up the utensils shaped like a crescent moon, and scooped up some of the rice and veggies, and... Hordak wasn't wrong, V really was a good cook. And soon she couldn't stop herself, the plate was cleaned within minutes, one of the best meals she had in a long while.

-     - -

V honked forcefully slamming down against the air horn on the steering wheel. He was furious. The elder clone rolled down the side window of the cockpit, the atmosphere bubble expanded outward, allowing for V to poke his head out and wave his fist angrily at the traffic up ahead. The Annihilation was stuck in space traffic. Spaceship lanes were created to ensure safe and organised space travel, especially in heavily populated systems. The Defects were now about to enter The Black Donut System, a system circling an infant black hole, a roundabout which utilised gravitational slingshot momentum allowing bypassers to reach neighbouring systems faster. But there was still one obstacle ahead of The Defects, the traffic jam, but that was due to the border control ahead. V yelled furiously at the price of the boarder crossing, “Fifty Romulaks?!?! Where are we crossing over to?! Terabithia?!” Pricey costs these days, capitalism, I tell ya.

The only reason V was even allowed to sit in the cockpit seat was because Glimmer and Hordak had retreated back into the ship's belly into Hordak’s room who had excavated a set of table chess. Which was built into a small circular table located in Hordak's room, he had picked it up a few missions ago from a pawn shop on Autolycus III, he thought it might have been... Fun. Hordak and Lee partook in a game or two from time to time. He had awkwardly asked the Queen if they were interested in a game. Glim just kind of shrugged and agreed, there wasn't much to do, but she wanted to kill some time.

When the chess was activated a board rose up and divided into four layers one levitating over the other. The chess pieces were divided via colour coding – Glimmer’s pawns where pink and Hordak’s were blue. The pawns hovered over the various chequered panels, all shaped as teardrops, constructed from the same crystal-like material. Glimmer’s teardrops where upright with the tail of the drop pointing skyward while Hordak’s were pointed downward. The crystals were dispersed across the boards, they were far into their game by this point. The Queen and the Lord faced off, and were sat on opposite ends, they were both leaning back on their respective armchairs, too afraid to get too close, keeping each other at an arm's length, only getting close to move their pawns.

They remained silent for most of the time, until her eyes shifted up from the miniature battle to analyse her opponent, and after a moment she broke her silence, “So, you've been avoiding me.”

“No, I... no... I simply assumed you'd prefer space in such a limited location.”

“How thoughtful of you.” She remarked sarcastically.

“If you so wish I could leave you to your own devices, and we may cease this game.”

“No, no. I don't mind. It's not like I have anything else to do... I've noticed the holo-pads aren't working.”

“Yes. There appears to be a technical malfunction, though I am unable to discern the cause or how to mend it. I can only hope that my Beloved has more luck on her side back at Dryl.” He sighed resigned, “I wish I was smarter. Everything always seems to hinge on her to be fixed. I wish I could lighten the weight on her shoulders.”

Glimmer moved her pawn forward thoughtfully, “Yeah. I... know what you mean. There are days when I wish I could do more for Adora, help each other shoulder the burden, share the weight of the world.”

“Hmm, so... you and She-Ra Adora...”

“What?! Who told y- What’d you mean?”

“My apologises, I was led to believe that you two were together – romantically. The Warrior of Greyskull was quite open and forward about the subject matter.”

She hid her face behind her opened palms, “Oh Adora…” She looked up to Hordak, “Do NOT disclose this to anyone.”

“I doubt anyone would lend me their ear, or that I know anyone to tell such things to. Why do you see She-Ra Adora’s openness as an issue?”

“It’s not an issue! It’s just- ugh- it’s just there’s so many rumours already, the royal court and the public can be exhausting and intrusive. I just- I just want to spare her from- from the fate of being my partner. Keeping us a secret makes everything simpler.”

“Mmm.” He understood. He related. He would hate prying eyes disturbing the little world Entrapta and he had built for each other in each other’s embrace.

“You probably wouldn’t understand.”

“…Probably.”

“…I miss her so much.”

“That- I understand all too well.”

“…Any update about the baitship?”

“Yes. Our suspicions were correct; Primus pirates.”

“Guess they’ll have quite the shock when they see the presumed dead Queen talking at an intergalactic conference in a few days.”

“That would be the most preferable outcome… What are you planning on saying at the summit? Have you a speech prepared?”

“Don’t remind me. I’ve had to deliver plenty of speeches for an entire Queendom, I’d like to think that over time I’ve gotten better at it. But I don’t know, I’ve never spoken in front of so many eyes. Full galaxies. The fate of Etheria in my hands. I’ve been revising, looking over my queue cards for days now… I still fumble the words sometimes.”

Hordak felt the need, the desire, to add something profound, “In my experience the key to delivering the most effective speeches is emotion; like when I delivered the Horde Manifesto atop Stinger Cliff when I rallied the forces of Scorpion Hill and forged the Etherian Horde on that day and... I- I just realised that might not be... the best example, hmm…”

“Yeahhh. Emotion. Anything else?” She asked with a half-smile.

“Well...” He searched his mind, “I usually left the public dealings to Shadow Weaver.” Glimmer looked like she was about to retreat from the conversation, Dak attempted to salvage it somehow, “However, confidence is key. You must believe in what you're speaking about, and you must show the crowds that you believe, that is where the confidence comes from. But honest passion won't carry you through you're talking to bureaucrats and politicians after all. You must tell them more that they want to hear, offer them something you're in possession of, as far as we know, the only magical world, the holy Armada of Prime under your control. You hold the cards, do not let them forget that.” That earned a smile from Glimmer. Hordak moved one of his pawns down from the top board down onto a pink pawn on a board underneath. Hordak claimed another piece.

“Yeah... I won't.”

“A lot is riding on this conference. We as a planetary species are behind on the evolutionary curb. Being trapped in Despandos, the cataclysm, sent us back. And now those bigger empires are circling like sharks. The universe only ever sees us as a collectible to be owned. We're always the small guy, well I'm tired of that. I'm tired of being small, at the mercy of others. It's time we change that. We hold the cards.”

Hordak realised that he might have gone a bit too far in the wrong direction with his advice, “Uh, yes, but be careful, your majesty. Power has tainted love to your hearts.”

“That's a bit hypocritical coming from you, isn't it?” That had Hordak return to silence, “What if it happens again? Some 2-bit visionary coloniser decides to come over for a spoonful of sugar and conquest. What chance do we have? What if we fail the next time? We need to be ready, we need to show the rest of the universe that we mean business. And we need allies for that.” Glimmer leaned in and reached out for a pawn on the lowest layer and moved it forward two spaces attacking Hordak’s piece and taking one of his pawns. Once defeated the teardrop faded to a dark grey. “So four days on the road now so to speak.” Hordak replied with a ‘hmm’ his way of acknowledging what she said wordlessly, not knowing how to respond, he didn't have the experience to socialise with people properly. “I think I've started to understand you all. Moe's the artistic, carefree spirit, who just wants to enjoy the beauty of the world like Peri. Drag seems to be an innocent kind soul, the heart of your merry band, the glue, kind of like Bow. V has a hard time showing how much he cares, but he does, sort of like Mermista, but don't tell her that, she'd be furious. But Lee, he seems to like to keep his distance, and give me furious stares from afar. Something you want to tell me?”

Hordak rolled his eyes and sighed annoyed, “I assure you he does not dislike you. My older brother... struggles to articulate some… issues he has.”

“Such as?”

He had caught another sigh escape his lips, he massaged the bridge of his nasal cavity, “Lee is concerned with the concept of nation building. After the Fall of Prime, your world became a refuge for our people. Lee wishes for Etheria to become our home, and a safe haven for all clones. He's been growing frustrated with how slowly it's been moving forward.”

“Slowly? In the past few months haven't we allowed you and your brothers to stablish government communities? Pass clone rights. Dryl helped clone settlements gain fresh water, electricity, everything. The Alliance has supported the clone communities even through all the unrest, and all the demands for your head.”

“The Alliance has not supported anything, they have remained quiet, in order not to enrage your supporters. When the hive mind fell, those who were present at Etheria where free to explore their true selves, live in freedom, comprehend the concept of freedom. But the horde was vast, countless of my brothers across the cosmos suddenly without a voice in their head, lost. Some must not even know Prime is dead. We could-”

“Bring them to Etheria? And how many exactly is ‘countless’, Hordak? Etheria can't support millions of refugees, the overpopulation would be devastating.”

“The Horde is no more, all Horde infrastructure, the commanding figure gone, these clones are left amidst a cosmos that despises them.”

“Rightfully so.”

“This is about saving lives! Etheria is the only semblance of safe haven for clones in a universe that wants to eliminate them! And overpopulation is not an issue, the entire Etherian population only takes up 27% of the planet, centralised on a single continent.”

“Which is supposed to mean what? That one day you can outnumber us 5 to one? Surround and replace us?”

“Replace?! A man who needs a suit of armour to get out of bed will replace you? A demigod elitist who only cares for her own domain?! There was a reason why Scorpion Hill turned so swiftly against you and the core Queendom's!”

Glimmer stood up abruptly, she slammed her hands against the board toppling a handful of pawns. “You wanna try that again?” Her eyes flashed a pinkish-purple, and the lights within the room began to flicker and go haywire, “You think you know me, but you're just a pathetic recluse, you don't know anything.”

“I know enough. I know that you have a container of Etherian soil to maintain your powers, to eliminate us in case we become an inconvenience to you.”

“You- You went through my things?! I have to defend myself against a group of monsters somehow! What else can I expect from a machine created for conquest!?”

“You think you know me.”

“I know enough.” Glimmer took off her mother's earring which always hung from her left ear. The last piece of her mother she could physically still hold onto, and from a position where her pawn once dude, she used the earring to knock Hordak’s king over.

Glimmer marched out of the room, with the doors sliding closed behind her. Hordak sighed with the full force of his misery. He just sat in his chair, his head bowed, for a few silent moments. “That went poorly.”

A voice sounded from inside his head. Hordak jumped, “Ahhh!” He turned in panic around to see Lee standing behind him, “How?! - How did you - where did you c- there aren't even any shadows in this well lit room!”

Lee wordlessly walked over to Glimmer’s opposing chair and sat down. Lee observed the chess board, coming in mid battle, a conflict unfinished. “I am disappointed in you boy.” Hordak rolled his eyes, here we go again. “Do not roll your eyes at me! I am unable to voice my thoughts, my opinions, my wishes and my troubles. Is it too much to ask for my more able-bodied brothers to help me voice my mind?”

“No, brother, but I- I tried, but I- I do not possess... the vernacular to convince her to aid us.”

“Enough excuses, boy. The fate, the well-being of our race is at stake. We stand at a crossroads. And you are the only one who can bring about positive change for all our brothers. You are family to royalty, you are a leader of men, your name it means something here, or it can. You have the power to influence… to save us… do you... do you understand that?”

“I- Of course I do, I just can't-”

“No, boy. No more excuses. Put in the effort. The people of the Queen seem to respond to emotion and openness – appeal to her with emotion and openness. Show her that we are people, that we are not monsters. Show her our true nature.”

“…I understood. I will attempt to- No, I will… I will.”

“Good,” Lee smiled, “That is good, kindly brother.” His hand hovered down to the several pieces on the floor, and picked them up, “Now then, shall we have a friendly game?”

“I have yet to beat you.”

“You will get there soon enough, practice hones skills.”

“My scientific theory is that you simply enjoy to watch me loose.”

“Hehm, non-sense.”

-     - -

“Keith, I’m pregnant.”

“I knew it.” V remarked aggressively at the reveal taking place on the TV screen – another one of V’s soap operas, as obnoxious as they were the others had to unfortunately admit it was entertaining television. The thing was V wasn’t even watching the screen, he was too busy studying the inside of one of the cupboards in the kitchen corner.

Glimmer stormed out of Hordak’s chamber room, of course there was nowhere for her to go on such an enclosed space. She stormed past Moe who’s greeting went unnoticed, and she made her way to the couch where her luggage rested. From her bag she pulled out a glass orb containing a sample of earth from the grounds of BrightMoon, she closed her eyes and focused her mind, channelling the magic of her home planet through her body like a conductor and thusly materialised a pink bubble around herself covering the couch and isolating herself from the rest of the ship.

“Sooo, does that mean... no more TV time for us?” V muttered while his head was still stuck in the kitchen cupboards looking for something.

“Guess so. That's just the effect Hordak has on people... I know I say this enough times to make it a catch phrase, but what are you doing?” Moe asked confused at his brother's continuous rummaging in the cupboards, and cabinets. The kitchen corner was a mess. Again.

“I told you, I've been checking our food rations, and unless Drag is waking up in the middle of his sleep cycle and midnight snacking, there's definitely something here with us.”

-     - -

That damn loading icon. That spinning circle at the centre of the blurry screen had been taunting her for days now. She got angry just by looking at it. She groaned to herself, facepalming and slowly dragging her palms down against her face, leaving the holo-pad on her lap. “I hate this place. Oh, I hate everything.” She was alone, that was what she believed. Utterly alone. And then-

“It can't be that bad.” The Queen's eyes widened, and her hands parted, that voice! So familiar and sweet! Glimmer looked down to see the smiling face of her partner. Adora looked a little rough around the edges, but even with scratches and scrapes and a little bit of dirt on her she still looked radiant and godly, and beautiful.

Glimmer almost teared up, “Oh my stars, it worked! You're here! I tried calling you for days! You wouldn't pick up! I was so worried! I missed you so much, Dodo.”

Adora's eyes rolled upwards to confront the ceiling in order to avoid Glimmer’s face, her face turned to the side, and a warm blush rushed across the valkyrie’s cheeks, “I missed you too, firework.” The most powerful woman in the universe, she could easily face off against the greatest monsters in universe, yet she often struggled to accept compliments and face her lover when smiling. That was Adora. “I wish I could kiss you right now, you wouldn't believe the day I've had.” She remarked brushing a strand of golden hair out of her face.

“Tell me about it. But I don't get it, why couldn't I reach you?”

“From what I understand, and mind you I'm no Entrapta I clock every fifth word she says, is that we were out of range, that off world mission I told you about? The signal from your pad could only reach to Etheria, not beyond it.”

“That explains that I suppose... so? How was your day?” Glimmer asked in a mundane fashion.

That drew a chuckle from Adora, “Oh let me tell ya those suspicions were correct. Turns out a version or a fraction of LightHope transmitted itself to an off-world facility in order to reconstruct a backup of herself and launch a counterattack against Etheria to reclaim it. Good thing Entrapta caught the signal and went with us. Otherwise, we could have been caught completely off guard.”

“Ennie went with you?”

“She did. She thought having a project on her hands would help her get her mind off of... ‘Things’. She's having the time of her life; the entire moon was like one massive server room, she'll be sifting through First Ones files for months.”

“And how are you doing?” Glimmer asked worried, “I know it can't be easy around all that First Ones stuff.”

“Oh, it's alright I've come to terms with all that long ago. I'm not my ancestors, all I can do is move forward and be better, and hopefully undo all that was done. They can't use me as a weapon now.”

“Tell me- tell me about home. What's going on with all of you guys? What's new?”

“Haha, oh, where to start? Frosta has been missing you, she's trying to keep everyone in line for you until you get back. Peri's been spearheading the whole reforesting initiative, alongside Scorpia. The Fright Zone has never been so... pleasant? Bright and colourful. Vibrant and full of life. Flowers the likes of which you have never seen! Scorpia’s rallying ex-Hordesmen to cooperate in the new government. Meri and Seahawk have accidentally burned down another ship port, it's really becoming a problem, really. Bow’s getting his dads to actually converse with BrightMoon’s educational sector and shake hands with your dad starting up a new initiative to improve education programmes across all the Queendom's. Spinnerella and Netossa are dealing with some trouble in their court, some family member of Spin’s accused Net of marrying into the throne and money for greedy and selfish gain. Spin is more or less trying to hold Net back from pummelling them into the ground. And Catra, she's been quiet, finding herself, working on her anger, re-connecting with the whole MagiCat Queendom at the core of the planet thing. It's a whole thing. And you? What's new with you?”

“Ugh.”

“Oh, that sounds good.” Adora remarked sarcastically and playfully.

“I don't know how long I can hold out here. These- Hordak is driving me crazy! I- I just don't know why you thought this was a good idea, Dodo. Why do you have so much faith in him?”

Adora paused for a moment, her eyes shifted as her thoughts tried to form themselves into sentences in her mouth, perhaps this was the first time she had spoken her thoughts out loud on this subject, “Well... he saved me, Glim. When I was a child. This seemingly heartless, pure evil, warlord with no concept of what a child is, the hand of an evil God, found a crying infant in a field, he wasn’t looking for it, didn’t know what it was, and yet, he chose to pick me up and bring me to safety – this crying baby, brought it with him. I wondered why. If not for him, I wouldn't have made it. Not me... not us… not anything – no universe saved. All because of a single random act of kindness from a stranger. There- There must have been some good in them.”

“Heh, that's you to a tea – that endless belief that people can be good. It could be the most wonderful attribute about you.” The Queen of Light smiled dreamfully. “I, sometimes, wish I could be like you.” She admired her girlfriend with stars and sparkles in her eyes.

“I'd argue you are. I mean you trusted me, a Horde trooper, and here we are.”

“I suppose you're right.”

“Hey, look, Entrapta and the rest of us will board a ship and we'll B-line it straight to you, but it'll just be a while. But... please give him a chance, the way you gave me.” Glimmer contemplated it, not that she really had any choice, “Plus, I need someone to walk me down the aisle aaand it's slim pickings.”

“Hehehe, wow, you're not walking down the aisle, I'm walking down the aisle, I already promised my dad.” She remarked smiling.

“We’ll arm wrestle for it.” Adora always somehow managed to lighten the mood and lift spirits.

“Somehow that seems fixed.” Glimmer remarked with a smile as she reached into one of her bags in search of a sandwich to nibble on, and was met with in opposing nibble. Glimmer yelped, the bubble around her burst, and Glim leapt up off the couch. The Queen flailed her right arm in an attempt to shed something of her person – some mass which had bit down on her middle and index finger. The jaws of the attacker relented, and they fell back on the couch.

“What! What is it!? I can't see! Glimmer!” Adora exclaimed from the screen of the holo-pad. The clones all gathered disturbed by the commotion. They all circled the couch, in an effort to apprehend the rodent which somehow managed to sneak onboard. Then the said rodent poked their head out from the cover of the couch cushions, his face still dirty from the sandwich he chowed down on. And they were all met with a familiar set of yellow eyes as well as a pair of chubby cheeks and messy curled grey hairs.

V smiled a toothy grin as he picked up his only nephew, “It's the boy!”

Imp had somehow snuck aboard. He gave a little burp and wiggled his little baby feet. He had no idea how much trouble he was in.

The End (of Part Two)

[andguesswhat]

I knoooooow, I'm wayyyy too early... but I thought so much is going to be posted on his birthday that this will be overlooked anyway.

Feel free to read it on his birthday again... ;)

BIRTHDAY.

*

The doorbell rang and something in his head told him that the ringing did not belong to the dream he was dreaming.

Armie groaned. He was still lying in bed, too sleepy and too much attached to the sweet dream he just had to be able to move or even have the will to move. He blinked dozily to the alarm clock. Who the hell rang their doorbell so early anyway? And on his birthday at that?

Their friends should know by now that this really wasn't the right time. By the way - he looked around puzzled. Where was Timmy? And why wasn’t he lying next to him? Had he run errands and forgotten the keys? Again? The doorbell rang for the second time. Sighing, Armie got up, put on underpants and a shirt, and reluctantly trotted down the stairs. It looked like someone was standing right outside the door, so it had to be Tim somehow, and Armie was already about to teach him a lesson about always forgetting his keys, but when he opened the door and Tim was standing in front of him.... something was... different. He couldn’t quite put his fingers on it yet. The curls... somehow coiffed... boyishly.

The clothes... somehow ... shabby, and actually not far from a rent boy’s.

The smile... polite. As if he was seeing him for the first time.

Plus big Bambi eyes, innocent and young... and cute, very cute... but also kinda secretly and curiously checking him out.

In summary: Puppy alert with a slutty touch.

Hmh. And then, on top, that: "Good morning, Sir! Are you Mr. Hammer?" And because Armie was still really tired, really confused and wondering if maybe he was still asleep after all and just dreaming something really weird, he just said, "Yeah." "I have a delivery for ya, Mr. Hammer!" Timmy chewed nervously on a piece of gum and handed Armie the large cake box he was holding. "Um… Thanks," Armie said and accepted the cake, because he was still pretty perplexed, besides well behaved.

One look through the clear cutout of the box told him it was a cake with lots of white cream around. "Happy Birthday Armie" was written in fondant, the letters shaped like little hammers and nails. Cute. "According to the cake it's your birthday, Sir, so please let me wish you a very happy one! All the best to you, Mr. Hammer!" Timmy grinned mischievously at him, but then immediately gulped with agitation and nervously tugged at his shirt. What the hell was this? But before Armie could formulate any thought in his head, Timmy said, "Nice house that you have, Mr. Hammer. You live here on your own?" Armie was kind of lost. Some new role he didn't know about and Timmy wanted to try out now?

"... No. I live here with... my husband." He still couldn't quite get used to the fact that Tim was now finally actually fucking officially and not just symbolically his husband. He smiled about that for a second before he added dryly, "But it seems he has something better to do, he's not here." A mini tiny grin flit across Timmy's face, so Armie could at least assume that this was his Timmy in front of him and he hadn't ended up in some freaky parallel universe.

Or had he?

Because now Timmy was all serious again and looking at him with those big big Bambi eyes, saying "Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that, Mr. Hammer. No one wants to be alone on their birthday, do they, Sir?” Armie desperately needed a coffee.

But somehow he decided to join the circus. This strange Timmy was just too cute to be disappointed, so he said with a lot of self-pity, “No. Not at all." Timmy chewed his gum twice, then said, "Maybe I could cheer you up?" Armie had to laugh. Now the penny had dropped for good and he was more than ever in the game.

“And how do you wanna do this?" he asked Tim provocatively. Timmy shrugged his shoulders shyly and bold at the same time, "I don't know."

Sure, he wouldn’t know. Armie laughed again. Man, there was something about the way Timmy looked at him. There were all kinds of things in that look. Kind of admiring and awestruck, but also kind of audacious and hot.

It wasn't like he had to complain that Timmy wasn't looking at him with desire after all these years anymore, but this pretending to not know each other…. It was hot. Fucking hot.

Added of course that Tim looked like some cute slutty twink. It certainly made Armie feel awake. And horny. And because he was really into this Timmy, he said, "You could come in? So that I'm not so alone on my birthday?" "Oh I don't know... I don't want to disturb you..." Armie laughed again. Now all innocent again. Timmy played his role really damn well.

"What's your name? I guess it's not Timmy?" he asked.

"Timmy? No, Sir, why? My name is Danny, Sir." "Okay, Danny,” Armie let all his charm play. “Would you please do me the honor of joining me for coffee so I'm not so alone on my birthday?"

For a second they just looked at each other and Armie enjoyed how he could see on Timmy’s face Danny weighing everything up, before he finally said, “Ok.”

There. Armie smiled.

“But,” Timmy continued and raised his index finger, “but just for a minute. I'm sure your husband will be back soon for your birthday and ..." He trailed off and stepped into his own house, respectful, marveling and curious as if he had never seen it before. "And what?" asked Armie to pick up Timmy’s or better Danny’s thought. "Nothing, Sir. I just don't want to cause any trouble." Armie laughed. "I'll bet you don't.” He walked into the kitchen and Timmy followed him cautiously.

“So … Danny… you're working as a delivery boy for cakes?" Armie put the cake on the table and began operating the coffee machine. "Yeah, just started.” Timmy began to tell, “Just moved to L.A. recently. Found out I wanted something different in life.... " "And what would that be?" "I... I have to be honest with you, Sir, I hope you don't mind. It wasn't easy in my hometown,.... to find like-minded people, if you know what I mean."

Cute, hot and very adorable. "And did you find what you were looking for?" Armie pushed the button on the coffee machine. "Well, I live in West Hollywood now.... Crazy place ... I'm a little overwhelmed… I’m shy, you know.... I'm still new to all this.... But I think I can feel at home there." Oh, God, there was really something special about this Danny. So innocent, so sweet, and so damn sexy. So ready to get down in the dirt. So ready for everything to explore. Just a little inhibition threshold that had to be overcome. And that was the moment when Armie decided that there were really more important things than coffee.

Like fucking this newbie here for example. Showing him all he wanted to explore. So Armie took a step toward this Danny, leaned in close, really close and said, "There's no need to be shy in West Hollywood, Danny." For a moment, just closeness and breathing, senses heightened. As if this was really their first encounter. Crazy. Really crazy. And fascinating. Fascinating as fuck. Timmy swallowed noticeably. "I'm sorry, Sir," he breathed, licking his lips. "I think I need to go now, Mr. Hammer." "And why is that?" Armie whispered in Timmy's ear, making sure his breath brushed Timmy's cheek. "Because I might have a huge boner in my pants, and I don't want you to think I'm being disrespectful or anything." Armie bit his lower lip with a grin. What an adorable little shit.

"Oh, I don't think you’re disrespectful, Danny. Besides, it's a good fit. I have a big boner in my pants too, you know." "You have?" Timmy turned his face up a little so that their lips were only inches from each other. How could those lips suddenly be so irresistible, when he'd already kissed them countless times? "Yeah, I have.” Armie murmured. “And it craves for attention. Do you want to feel it?"

Another swallow. "If you want me, too, Sir." Fuck, where was all this tension coming from? His whole body was tingling. "Yes, I want you to. Come on, touch it, Danny. Feel my big cock." Tim slowly reached out and felt Armie's hard cock. He swallowed immediately, as if feeling Armie's boner for the first time and being impressed about its size. This little motherfucker. "Do you like what you feel?" "Yes, Mr. Hammer..."

God, Armie was hard as a rock from all this shit. "But I was just wondering ... Sir." "What are you wondering?" Armie asked darkly.

He was enjoying all of this way too much. "I was wondering how it would - . But like I said, I’m new to this, Mr. Hammer." Timmy's voice was no more than a huff. "How about you just try it ..." Armie's fingers were sliding over Timmy's cheek, over his lips, feeling the soft flesh, but he resisted the temptation to kiss them, the tension was just too hot. He didn't want to break that. "I'd like that, Mr. Hammer. I'd love to try, Sir." And then Tim slowly knelt down while Armie put down his pants and pulled out his hard cock. Tim swallowed once more, nervously licked his lips, his eyes focused on Armie’s dick and then slowly approached it with his lips slightly parted, slowly sliding them over the swollen tip and finally taking Armie’s cock deep into his wet and hot mouth. Fuuuck!

He shouldn’t like this so much, should he?

Tim began sucking and licking on his cock while looking up at him with wide, devoted eyes, asking him silently if he was doing good, and yes, of course he was doing good! Fucking good.

"Yes, Danny, just like that, suck my dick," he assured him, moaning loudly because it felt so incredibly good. And as absurd as it was, as this was Timmy in front of him, Armie really wanted to show this Danny what it felt like to be fucked in the mouth.

"Do you like sucking cock, Danny? Do you like sucking my big, hard cock?" Tim eased off him, his lips wet with saliva. "Yes, Mr. Hammer." "And do you want to know what it feels like when I fuck your cute little mouth with my big, hard cock?" Tim pretended to be both shocked and immensely aroused by the thought and even topped the absurdity with saying, "I'd love to, but I'm not sure I can take it, Mr. Hammer?" Yes, you can, you little shit, Armie thought laughing inside, before he said understandingly, "I'll take it slow, okay?" Tim nodded sheepishly, and Armie unceremoniously grabbed his curls, causing Tim to gasp. Armie was completely fascinated by this game. How well it was working. How many times had he sunk his cock into Tim's mouth, and now he was looking at Tim, who was looking at him excited and aroused, as if he was doing it for the first time. "So open that sweet little mouth of yours for me." And Timmy did just that. Slowly Armie slid his cock into Tim's open mouth, slowly pulled it back out, figured that was actually enough foreplay now, and fucked Tim's mouth a few times until Tim almost choked and stumbled, supporting himself with his hand.

Armie knew that Tim was of course fine, but since it was Danny somehow, he asked, "Everything okay?" Tim looked at him, smiling proudly, "Yeah," And Armie could tell that the Danny in Timmy had caught fire and wanted more. So Armie once again grabbed his face and fucked his mouth a second time.

God, this was high class porn and it definitely had its effects on Armie. "I bet you want to get fucked in your tight little virgin ass by that cock too, huh?" Tim moaned at those words in response and reached for his own cock to squeeze. It was obviously craving attention as well. Armie smiled. "You've got something nice and big hanging between your legs, too, kiddo. Wanna show me?" Tim stood up, all shy but incredibly horny, fully in character.

"Go ahead, show me,” Armie encouraged him. So Timmy opened the button of his pants and when Armie immediately saw Timmy's pubic hair, it was his time to pretend to be surprised. "Oh, a nudie!" Timmy almost giggled in response to Armie's feigned surprise and the delight in his eyes was more Tim than Danny.

But immediately after, Danny was there again, taking his hard cock out of his pants, coyly but proud and horny as fuck. And god, did he look sexy! Armie grabbed Tim's cock and massaged it, making Timmy immediately moan tentatively. "Not bad, Danny. And what a beauty you have. Do you want me to suck your cock too?" Danny probably like Timmy clearly got very aroused at this thought, because the cock in his hand twitched, and Armie once again could only laugh at the whole situation. What a sweet sweet birthday surprise. He grabbed Timmy by the lower jaw, pulled him close and kissed him, kissed Tim, his husband, briefly but tenderly, just to say thank you in advance, before grabbing Danny and pushing him onto the table. "There, now let me show you what sucking cock feels like best, Danny." He slipped Timmy’s pants all the way off, forced Tim to spread his legs, to give him the feeling of being exposed, slid his index and middle finger between Tim’s lips, let Tim suck them wet, spit on his fingers for more wetness afterwards, slid them between Timmy's legs to the hole, pushed against Timmy’s entrance, steadily over the threshold, deep inside him so that Timmy had to hold his breath, encircled Timmy's throat with his other hand, felt Timmy swallow under his palm, knelt down in front of him, with his finger still deep in his ass, reaching for that sweet spot, his other hand still tightly closed around Timmy's throat, and finally encircled Timmy's hard cock with his wet mouth and swallowed it whole.

"Fuuuuck!"

Armie smiled triumphantly.

That had clearly been Timmy.

And if Timmy couldn't act anymore, then it had been good. Armie was already wondering whether Danny was now gone for good when Timmy gasped, "Sir... Mr. Hammer, that was…!" Armie laughed defeated. Ok, apparently he had to come up with something better to get his Timmy back. He sucked him, good and thorough, rubbing his finger over the sweet spot again and again, making Timmy lean back in ecstasy and start moaning unrestrained until he suddenly panted, "God, Sir. I'm close." And Armie stopped immediately.

Tim gasped for breath and looked at Armie questioningly. “Sir? Please!”

"I think you need to get fucked in your tight little virgin ass, before you come, Danny," Armie explained. “So turn around.” "But Sir..." Timmy wanted to protest, but Armie didn't listen and just turned him to the table.

“But Sir, what if…” Timmy tried again, but Armie put one of Timmy's legs on the table for good access, pressed his hand on Timmy's back, grabbed Timmy's hip with his other hand, and positioned his cock at Timmy's entrance.

Timmy groaned in anticipation but apparently still needed something to get off his chest.

“But what if your husband…!” Armie pushed slowly but steadily into Timmy, “Aaah…! Comes home …!!” spread him good, “uuuhh… !! And sees us like that?” and was all the way deep in the heat.

“Fuck that motherfucker!” Armie growled in feigned annoyance and began fucking Timmy.

“If my husband doesn't manage to be at my birthday…,” he continued hoarsely before thrusting into Timmy again, who desperately gasped for air, “he can fuck himself…” another thrust, another moan from Timmy “And if he does come home…” thrust, moan, “he’s welcome to watch. He does not need to think…” Armie thrusted once more and Timmy panted in response, “that he is the only fuckable twink in town!” and this time Timmy quickly turned away from Armie trying in vain to suppress a giggle but Armie of course noticed it anyway. And at that moment Armie felt an ache in his chest. Because he didn't feel like fucking Danny anymore, he just wanted his Timmy back.

Armie paused. His thumb caressing Timmy’s lower back. Timmy turned to him frowning. “Something wrong… Sir?”

“No” said Armie, “I just forgot something. The best part. You’ll see, Danny.”

And then Armie started sliding his hands all over Timmy's back. Very gently, kissing Timmy on the shoulders, between the shoulder blades. His hands ran through Timmy's curls, releasing the back of his neck, and Armie kissed him there, kissed him softly, his lips on soft skin, the small strands of hair tickling his nose, before he let his tongue slide down over the spine, making Timmy contract his shoulders and breathe softly. He knelt in front of Timmy's ass, embracing it with his two hands, gently kneading it while kissing the insides of the butt cheeks, right, left, softly biting them, left, right, and finally, very gently and lightly he ran the tip of his tongue over Timmy's entrance. Timmy gasped softly, his body twitching slightly, his entrance contracting.

“You want more?”

“Yeah…” just a whisper.

Armie massaged Timmy’s hole, with his thumb, with his tongue, licked and pushed inside, the hands constantly kneading the flesh of Timmy’s perfect little tush.

He went on and on, ate him out, long and lasting, and Timmy’s body writhed more and more under the experience, sensual pants and moans filling the air, the groans coming more and more from deep inside Timmy’s body. The intensity increased. Even more so when Armie also massaged Timmy's balls, licked them and pumped his cock.

“Fuck, Armie, this feels so good…” Timmy breathed.

And Armie paused again and straightened up.

“No, Armie... don’t stop, baby, please!” Timmy begged.

Armie smiled warmly. "I just wanted to say hi to my husband. Glad you came after all." Timmy turned around and chuckled sheepishly before he wrapped his arms around Armie.

“Yes, I’m here. Happy Birthday, baby!”

They kissed.

Home.

There was nothing like that feeling.

Danny was fun but this, this was what he wanted. Needed.

“Had things to do?” he asked smiling softly.

“Yeah… Sorry to have kept you waiting.” Timmy’s nose twitched while he grinned.

“No worries, I had nice company. But now I want to do something, baby. Do I have a free wish on my birthday?”

“Yeah… sure.”

"Mind if I fuck my husband now through his orgasm?" Timmy laughed, his eyes shining, his voice a soft hush. "No, I don't mind." And that's what Armie did then. Because the bottom line was that it made him happiest when he satisfied his man to the max.

Just that. With eyes interlocked, he thrust into Tim, his thighs bumping against Timmy's, getting Timmy nearer and nearer over the edge. "God, Armie...!"

Armie’s hands grabbed him mercilessly, and when Timmy’s head reared back, Armie could see how his mind slowly drifted to nirvana.

Because there were all kind of sex. There was "God, you are so fucking hot" sex, there was "I love you more than anything” sex... but now, now it was "I'm off to nirvana" sex.

Armie loved that, that he could bring Timmy there.

At first Timmy always had felt guilty when this had happened. I want to be with you when I come, he had said, don’t we need to look into each others eyes until the end?

No.

Because what could be more beautiful than to let the man you love the most feel this incredibly sensual, body and mind connecting experience of pleasure? And to be responsible for it. That was the sexiest sight ever. So he watched with the greatest devotion as Tim's slender body writhed under his touches and thrusts, loved how Timmy's eyelids fluttered as his head fell back into his neck, loved how his face contorted with lust, loved how those sexy little gasps came out of his half parted mouth, one after the other, loved how every cell of Timmy's body vibrated with pleasure, loved how his moans became more and more urgent, coming closer and closer to the edge, reaching ecstasy, until finally he came with a jerky twitch, the orgasm surging through every fiber like waves, waves, waves.

So beautiful, so incredibly fucking beautiful.

Armie came too, came in Tim, his love, his husband and wanted nothing more than this.

After he had reluctantly detached himself from Timmy, he lay down next to him on the table and just looked at him. Watched how Timmy slowly, ever so slowly, came back down here to earth from his nirvana, smiling softly as he turned to him.

Pure happiness, exhaustion and still, after all these years, shyness because he was out there, gone.

Who wouldn’t fall for that.

“Hey...”

“Hey...”

They kissed.

Soft kisses.

Sweet kisses.

Fingers touching the other.

Until Timmy’s curiosity won. "So, what did you think of Danny?" he asked eagerly. Armie laughed. "Well, … he was very cute, definitely. And hot. What more could you ask for? But I think he was an impostor." "What? Why?" Tim pretended to be indignant. "Because he acted so inexperienced and naive and then he sucked me like the sluttiest angel ever." Timmy giggled the cuddliest giggle existing. "Maybe he's just a natural." "Maybe. He had a very nice cock though. Thought about letting him fuck me. But I wasn’t sure if you agree to that.”

“If you like him. I would let you. Maybe he comes back some time.”

“Maybe.”

Timmy opened the box of cake beside him, stroked two fingers over the cream of the cake and held his coated fingers in front of Armie's mouth, who immediately accepted the invitation and licked the cream off. "I was actually expecting, the cake would have an entrance as well,” Timmy said and took another dollop of cream from the cake and shoved it this time into his own mouth. “Sorry, I kind of only had eyes for Danny,” Armie apologized. “But I can make up for it later if you want.“

Timmy bit his bottom lip, grinned, his eyes sparkling with joy.

Once again Armie realized he would never get over the sweetness of his man.

Also, it was not to believe that he was so horny for him again.

And it was the greatest pity that Timmy’s birthday was not until December.

Because he could hardly wait that this time it would be him to ring the doorbell.

And when Timmy would open the door, he would say: "Mr. Chalamet? Here's the hammer you ordered. I hear you have a big pipe to lay? "

*

[cirrus-ghoulette]

Hideaway

Word count: 864

Rating: General audiences

Pairing: Polyghouls

Characters: Dewdrop, Aether, mention of Omega

Key features: Dew with a kit, semi feral Dew, semi feral ghoul whisperer Aether

Summary: Dew has been missing for the pack for three days. Aether finds him.

This work was heavily inspired by @chapel-of-rizztual 's new fic! Go read it right now!

Dew had been missing for three days. 

Now, while it wasn't unusual for ghouls to disappear for a few days for hunts or heats, it was strange for Dew to go missing. 

The ghoul, if he was injured or sick or just tired, would hole away in his room until he felt better. But they had checked his room. In fact, they had checked every inch of the dormitory. He wasn't there. 

The pack was starting to worry. 

They'd spread their search, to the library and the chapel and even the siblings' dorms. 

It was late at night, and they were just about to give up their search for the day. Aether could feel the other pack members telepathically telling him that they were going to look again in the morning, that maybe Dew would come out for food. 

Aether was far from the dorms. He was down in an abandoned part of the Ministry, mostly used for storage nowadays. Everything was quiet, muffled by a thick layer of dust.

Then, a whimper. 

Just a soft one. 

Aether's ears twitched. He followed the sound, his footsteps light, not wanting to spook whatever made that sound. 

He found what he had been looking for. 

Dew. 

The poor ghoul, he was propped up between a bookshelf and a wall. He wore only a shirt, though all of the buttons were undone. He only looked semi conscious. 

"Fuck, Dew." Aether breathed. He ran over to the sad little lump, his footsteps making Dew perk up. 

Dew looked around dozily for a second, then hissed and curled away from Aether. He tucked his head down and brought his knees up, hiding away in a ball. His tail thudded anxiously on the floor beside him. 

"Dewdrop. Shit. Hi." Aether slowed his approach, seeing how Dew reacted like a flighty animal. He chirruped softly, a noise reserved for submissive ghouls, to show Dew that he wasn't going to hurt him. "Hey. You're alright." 

Except Dew probably wasn't alright. As Aether stepped closer, he noticed the dark puddle under Dew. He could smell the blood. 

"I need you to talk to me, Dew. Tell me you're okay." Aether dropped to his knees and crawled the rest of the distance, though he stopped around five metres from the other ghoul. "Or tell me you're not okay, and I can help." 

Dew stared at Aether with big, fearful eyes. Then he chittered anxiously, a quiet 'ekekek' sound. 

"Alright. Can't talk. Okay." Aether nodded slowly. Sometimes ghouls went a little feral. It was in their nature. It was okay, Aether could deal with it. "Are you still bleeding?" 

Dew shook his head. He tucked further into the corner. 

Then, another, tiny whimper rang out. 

It didn't come from Dew's lips. 

"What the Hell?" Aether whispered. Dew was starting at him like a deer in headlights. "What's going on, Dew? Give me something to work with here." 

Slowly, and ever so cautiously, Dew turned. In his trembling arms was a kit. A tiny, curled up little thing, sucking on the fork of their tail in a self soothing gesture.

"Oh, fuck…" Aether crawled closer. "Where did you get them, droplet?" 

Dew gave Aether a look, as if to say 'Where do you normally get kits from?'. He raised a disapproving eyebrow, before his expression was replaced by a wince. 

"Hey, take it easy. Steady, little guy. Can I see them?" He asked softly. Dew shook his head. "Alright. Can you hold them out a little, just so I can look them over?" 

Carefully, Dew held the kit up, even as they squirmed and whined at getting moved. They were absolutely tiny. One of the smallest kits Aether had ever seen. Their cord wasn't attached, and they seemed to have a belly full of milk. Dew had done well on his own. 

"Thanks, Dew. That's all I needed to see. You can take your kit back now. That's it, keep them warm against your chest. Good lad." Aether murmured, as if he was speaking to a spooked animal. He closed his eyes, contacting Omega through their telepathy. Letting him know that he'd found Dew and he needed medical help. 

"I'm gonna give you my shirt. I want you to put it over the kit, like a blanket. She's very little, Dew. I don't want her getting cold." He said steadily, unbuttoning his shirt and holding it out to Dew. The fire ghoul snatched it from him, then carefully laid it over the kit's back, covering her completely.

"Yeah, that's it. You managed to hide her well, huh?" Aether laughed quietly. He could hear all of his pack popping into his head, asking questions about Dew. He ignored them for the moment.

"Ti-nee." Dew croaked out in explanation, his voice crackly from disuse. He gestured to his middle. It had a bit of a swell to it, but otherwise it just looked like a regular belly. Not like someone who had just given birth. 

"Yeah, she is… You've done such a good job, Dew." Aether could hear Omega's heavy footsteps in the distance. "We're going to get you some help, gorgeous. Just stay awake for a little longer, yeah? Alright. Doing a great job. Good mama."

Dew smiled proudly at that. He was a good mama. 

[directdogman]

why does God Himself stick around in DIALTOWN of all places? im sure he could find some cult somewhere in the world thatd treat all his needs instead of letting him be the filthy hobo he is

there's 2 layers to this question, i think. let's tackle god himself first. You're 100% right in that Dialtown itself isn't the most hospitable place to live and if God really wanted to, he could totally find a cult somewhere else that'd take care of him like a... well, God. But, what's the stop him trying to form a cult like that IN Dialtown? Dialtown, the location, isn't the problem here. God doesn't try to convince anyone of his divinity IN Dialtown itself. Dialtown's residents are so underwhelmed by God not because they're godless heathens but because God is such an underwhelming person. He doesn't lie about his identity, but when people outright rebuke his divinity, the guy dozily replies "cool beans" and walks off, content.

The guy definitely doesn't wanna be worshiped or taken care of, that's for sure. That being said, I 100% think you're correct in questioning why exactly God would hang around Dialtown because it sure as hell isn't a super nice place. He COULD surely just leave town if he wanted, as he isn't stuck wearing an explosive ankle collar that'll go off if he strays outside city limits. Why would God want to wander around Dialtown all day, only stopping to speak to passerbys, day in, day out? Hmmm.

Now, the second layer of the question. Broadly, you could ask this question about any character in DT. It's fair to ask why anyone'd wanna live in Dialtown. I think in a sense, Dialtown's like a river delta, or the pool right below a drain pipe. It's where the sewage flow ends. The trash collects here. Dialtown has a unique ecosystem, and it's home to a lot of unique people, some of whom do truly bizarre things. Realistically, many characters, both in the main and extended cast, would struggle to live day-to-day in more 'normal' places. Imagine Gingi trying to live as a hunter gatherer in downtown Chicago, or Bigfoot hanging out in Florida!

Even Mayor Mingus, Dialtown's most pretentious and sanctimonious resident, someone who feels she is cognitively above almost everyone she has ever met, is truly the same as the rest. She's too self destructive, vindictive and power hungry to sustainably survive anywhere else. She cannot form human relationships and nobody would ever work with her if she went someone desirable.

All of the characters in Dialtown are sliiightly defective and/or majorly troubled in some way. Even the architect of Dialtown, the great Callum Crown, had to physically construct the metallic legs he used to walk with. All of the datable heads are damaged/atypical in some way, with Randy's head being bandaged, Oliver missing an optical sensor, Karen having a printer head, Bigfoot having sticky tape on his head, and Norm's concealed face. Mingus has a cat head, Gingi has a flesh head. NONE of the main cast are 'normal'. But, like Crown's postcard says, Dialtown IS a haven for people who don't fit in elsewhere. It's a place where those who can't survive alone and can't survive anywhere else come and survive together, fundamentally. It's rickety and lousy, but it's home.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Eat You Up - Act. II [***]

Summary: there isn’t really much to summarise, he’s just kinda going at it :)

Warnings: breeding kink, dubcon/noncon, degradation, bdsm themes, mean dom!Azriel, dark!Azriel

-Act. I-

-Full To The Brim[***]-

“Think you’re ready now, yeah?” He questions, bumping his nose against your own as he gazes down at you. “Think you’re warmed up enough?” Your brows dip in confusion, making him chuckle, lowly. Carefully, his shadows wind beneath your hips, lifting them entirely from the bed so you can feel him as he presses his hips against yours.

Your eyes roll back a little, eyelids fluttering as you try to think about something beside what’s between your legs. His breath hitches as he watches your reaction to him, pressing his head into the crook of your shoulder, scenting you.

When you lightly buck your hips against him, he releases a soft moan, besides your ear. A shiver runs through you, your nipples peaking as you arch against him, the material grazing the sensitive areas roughly. Your brow furrows, head turning to the side enough to nip his ear, lightly.

Azriel pulls away in favour of peering down at your flushed figure, eyes widening marginally as your hands slowly fist in his shirt, your brows curving upward, “take it off,” you plead breathlessly. Heat shoots straight between his legs at the gesture. “Want my shirt off?” He taunts, though his words are strained. You nod slightly, eyes flitting about the room before returning to his. “Want to take it off for me?”

Already, arousal is stretching her back within you, preparing for round two.

You hazily reach for the hem of his shirt, rolling it up over his stomach, pushing it up his chest as he sits back on his knees to pull his shirt over his head, immediately returning to you once it’s off. His arms land either side of your head, the heat of him so much more overpowering now it’s his bare skin on yours. His mouth latches onto a space beneath your jaw, nipping at the area as heat blooms in the pit of your belly, your own hands reaching hesitantly for him, delicately placing them on his upper arms.

“Azriel…” you whisper softly, barely a breath as your hips lifted from the bed, silently asking for more.

Once again, he pulls back to peer down at your hot and dazed form. A heady groan falls from his mouth as his eyes lick over your body, flicking from your own to between your legs. “You want me?” He asks, voice strained with need, “want me inside you?”

With flushed cheeks, you nod drunkenly, eyes flickering around his own. “Come on, pretty thing, tell me how much you want me, yeah? Then you can have as much as you want,” he moans, watching your reaction, “have your fill.” His gaze traces the roll of your throat as you swallow. His mouth feels dry. He needs to be inside of you.

Burning heat consumes you, lighting from within as you nod dozily. “Please, Azriel. Please, I want more,” you bite the inside of your lip, “I want you…inside of me.”

His mouth fashions itself into a feline grin as he pulls off you, getting off on being able to manipulate you so thoroughly. He moves to stand at the edge of the bed, his hands dropping to the ties of his leathers. You feel yourself tighten around nothing as he slowly works himself free, palming himself through the material. He’s so big.

When he’s completely removed his clothing, you try to keep your tongue in your mouth, wanting to reach forward and just swallow him. Slowly, he moves over you, settling comfortably between your thighs, shifting his hips as he presses against your heat, moans tumbling from both of you as you indulge in one another.

Azriel drags his hips back, pressing against your entrance, “gonna go in,” his hand tenderly brushes your cheek, “you okay?” And despite everything, you lean into his touch, lifting your hips for him and nodding.

You bite your lip as he pushes inside, slowly, moving in an inch at a time, then pulling out, only to press back in further than before, pulling you apart in the most delicate way. By the time you’re full, there’s still more of him to take. His hips still, resting inside of you as he allows you to become accustomed to his size.

“Gonna give you a moment, you’re gonna need a while to get comfortable,” he speaks softly. You exhale heavily, lightly shifting your hips, making him suck in a breath. Through weary eyes, you peer up at him, aware of your own chest rising and falling. You raise your arms in his direction.

Azriel’s heart skips a beat.

Despite being nearly fully inside of you, it’s this small gesture that has his pulse raising unsteadily. He can’t resist. He moves forward, causing him to shift inside of you, powerful arms looping beneath your back, carefully lifting you from the bed to rest on top of him, pressed flush against his chest as you bury your face in his neck.

The angle pushes him deeper, forcing a moan from your lips, releasing it beside his ear and you feel his muscles go taut from the effort of holding back whatever decadent thoughts he wishes to indulge himself in. You try to calm your breathing as you hesitantly settle your thighs on either side of his own, lifting from his lap a few inches, just to relieve some of the pressure.

Azriel’s lips graze along your skin as you rise onto your knees, his mouth between your breasts, kissing softly at the skin below your collar bones. “So pretty,” he breathes, as if he could print the words there. “I wish these were your last moments, if only so that I could know you died with me.” Your breath catches at his words, psychotically romantic.

You tighten around him, thighs trembling enough that you slide back down.

He groans, hands resting at the sweep of your hips, showing their ownership as he gazes up at you. “I love you so much,” he growls, brows arcing upward, as if in pain, “do you have any idea how much I love you?” He nearly sobs the question.

A heavy breath leaves your mouth as your hands slide up his chest, curving beneath his jaw to draw his face to yours. His eyes are alight with hunger and blind adoration, so deep you could swim in them. Before you can think any better, your mouth opens over his own, overlapping as you press your lips to his, wanting to taste and swallow.

His hands drop to your ass as you shift in his lap, pressing tight against him, wanting more of his delightfully hot skin against your own. You pull away from his mouth, fingers moving to thread in his dark locks of hair, “what do you want?” You murmur against his lips, pressing against them once you’ve finished speaking, eyes shutting briefly.

“You,” he breathes, not a moment of hesitation or pause to be found, “Gods, you. Please.” His canines catch on your lower lip as his hands grind you down into his lap, raising his hips to meet your own. Your eyelids flutter at the sheer desperation contained in his voice.

Swallowing, you look down at him, brushing your mouth over his once more, “have me,” you whisper.

His hands lift you lightly from his hips, so you won’t hurt as he pushes you backwards into the mattress. His mouth returns to yours as he pulls out to the tip, then pushes all the way back in, pressing you up the bed. Your own hands cup his jaw, nails lightly scratching the crests of his cheeks as you open your mouth.

Azriel moans softly as he repeats the movement, drawing his hips back, before returning deep inside of you. Your muscles contract slightly with each thrust that sends you bumping up the mattress. His tongue dances over your own, gliding as if he were a bird skimming the water’s surface.

Your own hips buck against his, beginning to loose yourself in the warm rush. “Azriel…” you plead, managing to see enough through the haze to seek out his own hungry gaze that’s watching your mouth intently. Your lips part as you suck in a breath at the sheer intensity of it.

“Azriel…?” You whisper, hesitantly.

His eyes flick up to your own, darkening as a sinister grin lifts the curved edges of his mouth, one hand coming up to grip you jaw harshly. “I want to see you wearing lipstick again,” his thumb swipes over your lower lip, pressing it against your teeth, “and I want that lipstick to end up on my cock.”

Your eyes widen as your breath catches, unable to control how you tighten around him, making him chuckle lowly. “Like the thought of that?” The edges of your mouth tip down as the situation begins to re-emerge in your mind, as if your spine was being rinsed with cool water. The tips of your fingers loose their sharp grip on his jaw, beginning to pull away.

Azriel grins again, though it’s more canines and teeth than an actual smile. He catches one of your wrists in his large palm, holding it with aching reverence as his fingers brush over the pulse point. He brings it to his mouth, pressing his lips to the hot, sensitive skin. You swallow when his canines graze over the thrum of your pulse. “So soft,” he murmur, lips brushing against your inner wrist.

“Mother save me…” Your lower lip is trembling.

“The Mother can’t reach you here,” he speaks tenderly. “The only deity here, is you.”

His hips buck, not as gentle this time, his control beginning to fray as a moan tumbles from your mouth. “You should see yourself right now,” he says, moving his hips in quicker motions, driving further within you. “You look so beautiful.” His shadows curl over your chest, skimming your nipples with a sharper edge than before.

“Stop…” You pant, hardly managing to form the words in your mind in time to string them out. Another wave of panic rises within you. He presses your wrist into the mattress, beside your head, “stop what?” It takes you more moments to create your next set of words, “Stop…stop! Azriel—…No!” They come out louder, feeling how his cock shoves into you deliciously. “…does it hurt?”

You attempt to think about his question but your mind is so contorted in flowing with the pleasure. “…Yes.” His hips buck forward, driving into you hard, pulling out and slamming in. A pleasured moan is dragged from your lips in response, and he chuckles darkly, “liar.”

“You say it hurts?” He asks, grinning, hand releasing your wrist in favour of moving to rest over your throat, ghosting over the tender skin. Your brows dip a fraction, too caught up in the overwhelming self-indulgence. You might have managed to nod, but his hands started trailing down your chest, his thumbs grazing your nipples as he tugs at them lightly before cupping them in his hands.

He laughs a little, “too fucked out to respond?” His hands graze lightly over your stomach, moving to brace your hips as his fingers dig into your flesh.

The male leans over you, pausing just long enough for your conscience to surface, “you think this is painful?” Breath gets stuck in your throat as he grins sadistically, moving away and pulling your hips against his as he slams back in. His shadows build over your clit, oscillating harshly. Your back arches, head tipping into the mattress as your eyes squeeze shut.

The pace is overwhelming, with him pounding into you repeatedly. The brutal grip on your hips only tightens, blending with the velvety coolness of his shadows. You’re nearing an edge you aren’t prepared to reach. Not again. Your fingers bite into the mattress but it’s not right. You grasp for him, nails slicing into his forearms, making him hiss. He twitches inside of you. His shadows flick over your nipples, pinching sharply at the sensitive areas. It does nothing to ward off the peak that he’s raising you to.

“Do it,” you cry out, “do it! Please, do it, do it, do it!” You plead as you loose all sense of yourself. A low chuckle is all you get in reply. The cool silkiness that has been grazing over your chest snakes down your abdomen, building over your clit as stimulation comes crashing through your body.

You lock, pleasure roiling beneath your skin as it pulses throughout your body, thrumming across your chest and down your thighs to your toes as the muscles seize. Your mouth drops open, so much force contained within that you wish a scream would rip from your chest but your lungs refuse.

All you can do is arc your back upward as he continues pounding into your poor cunt, restraint completely shattering as he watches you come undone, pussy fluttering around his cock. He moves his mouth to your neck, canines scratching your skin as he forcefully tilts your head to the side, the movement more animal than fae. His teeth sink into the side of your throat, marking you up.

It’s too much, the continuous pleasure being rewarded to your cunt is sending you reeling into overstimulation. Your mouth drops open as his shadows don’t let up either. None of it does.

Tears spring at the corners of your eyes as he keeps on going, showing no signs of slowing his pace. All you can manage is lifting a shaky arm over his shoulder, fingers gliding over one of the wings that rests at his back. His hips buck sharply at the action, a sound like a whimper coming from the male. “Gods, such a fuckin’ slut for me, huh?”

You hazily repeat the action, tracing your fingers over the membranous flesh that twitch ever so slightly. A broken moan tumbles from his wicked mouth as he begins humping your pussy with sloppy thrusts. He growls beside your ear, pulling away to grip your throat, tearing your hands from his back. “Want me to fuck you full, huh?” He snarls, canines glittering in the limited light. “Want me to spill into you until you’re made of my cum?” He pants as he continues pounding into you, “I’m gonna fuck you so full you won’t even be able to think straight.”

Tears flow from your eyes, unable to take how much sporadic pleasure is ravishing your body. “She’s gonna look so pretty with my cum leaking out of her, isn’t she?” He tugs your face from the mattress, lifting you to his mouth. “Fucking edible.”

“Fuck.” His hips stutter as he pants, wanting so desperately to put his teeth over your lips. “Maybe I should fuck that pretty throat of yours after? Shut her up for all the filthy lies she’s told about not wanting my cock so deep inside of her.” His lips curl, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he comes.

You scream from the pain and pleasure, feeling so, immaculately, full. His hips wind against yours, getting his cum nice and deep. Tucking it inside of you. You can feel the hot, thick, liquid flood you from within, warming your lower abdomen.

Tears fall, wet paths heating your cheeks as he uses you as he likes. “Such a beautiful cunt,” he drawls, pulling back. You bite down a whimper as he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty.

“Don’t worry,” he growls, hand fisting in your hair as you’re tugged unceremoniously upward. You land on your hands and knees, though your arms give out, back curving as your ass sticks in the air. “I’m not gonna stop until you’re pumped full.” Shame heats your cheeks as he yanks you upright, face a hairs breath from his cock.

“Gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours up, too.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower

[raccoonfallsharder]

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip. part three. illinois. wisconsin. minnesota.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist previous | next | main masterlist

angst, comfort, friendship, & fluff for @hibatasblog rocket & wanda | part 3/6 | word count: 1680.

night falls on the outskirts of chicago. wanda and rocket reflect on the horrors of the universe.

During a watch party for Avengers: Endgame on Twitter, Markus revealed the idea to team Wanda with the Guardian of the Galaxy captain actually made it into several versions of the film's script. "We had whole drafts with Wanda on a road trip with Rocket," Markus wrote, "but after the Vision plot in Infinity War, nothing we came up with was anything but wheel spinning for her character." CBR

references dialogue from All-New Guardians of the Galaxy Issue #4 - 6/21/2017

At Rocket’s urging, they’d stopped in a weird little convenience-and-fuel shop that the witch had called a rest stop, and he’d sneaked in behind some other humies and poked through the variety of chargers, converters, headphones, and other piecemeal tech that the rest stop had available for travelers to buy.

He’d emptied his pockets once they’d gotten back on the road and Wanda had looked at him with a crease between her brows. 

“How did you buy all that?” she’d asked, lips pursed. She always has big eyes, but they’d seemed even bigger then, and he hadn’t been able to quite clock what her expression had meant.  

So he’d just snorted. “Do I look like I carry Terran cash?”

Again, something in the corner of her mouth had flickered.

He’d been able to spend most of Indiana peeling apart wires and twisting them into one, breaking apart plastic hulls, and snapping together pieces of metal. 

“Natasha’s going to kill you,” Wanda tells him when he pries off the plastic facade protecting the wiring for all the fancy controls on Nat’s dashboard.

He shrugs. “Not if she can’t catch me.”

The witch makes that little puff of sound again. “Just — don’t mess with anything but the sound system,” she tells him. “I’m not making this drive without climate control and blinkers.”

He snorts, then points to a little heating coil the size of an old Kree Imperial coin. “What about that? Can I fuck with that?”

She glances over. “The cigarette lighter? Sure.”

It barely takes him any time to hook up the zune, and it’s crooning through Nat’s speakers by the time they hit the outskirts of Chicago. The sun’s long dropped behind the horizon by then, and he tells her they should hole up for the night.

“Danvers ain’t in that much of a rush,” he tells her. “We can take a break. Get some sleep.”

The witch doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about sharing a room with him, which is nice, because most of the time he feels like he’s gotta be on his guard with these baldbodies. He’s fairly certain at least half of the Avengers ain’t got any frickin’ respect for him or Nebs, and it’s frankly demoralizing.

But here he is, sharing a room with the witch. He’s never been one for regular sleep, and he’s got this thing with nightmares he doesn’t really want to inflict on Wanda. So he stays up most of the night, propped dozily against the headboard and fucking around on a datapad. The witch, for her part, pretends to watch some show on the two-dimensional Terran holovid-projector — primitive — then turns it off and pretends to sleep.

Pretends.

He tilts his head down at his datapad and wonders whether or not he should tell her that he can hear her heartbeat. It hasn’t dropped down to a relaxed, drowsy rate yet — in fact, sometimes he can hear it picking up, just for a minute. He wrestles with himself for a good fifteen minutes before he sighs and gets up, crossing the room to lean against the wall with the window. The witch is facing it, and he knows she can sense him, even though her eyes are closed. He leans back against the wall-mounted climate control unit, crossing his arms across his chest and his legs at the ankle while he waits for Wanda give up her silly charade.

It only takes about twenty seconds of him staring at her with one brow raised before she opens her eyes. They’re glowing as blood-crimson as his in this light — but where Rocket knows that his are made of reflective eyeshine, throwing back the flat light from the cracked bathroom door, hers are lit from the inside: whirling firestorms that would light up like furious beacons on even the most lightless of planets. 

He tries to curl the corner of his mouth in a way that says he’s unimpressed, but it’s a lie, and he’s never been good at lying.

“F’you’re not gonna sleep…”

She sighs and sits up, then rises, moving toward him so quickly that he startles: arms unfolding to defend himself, ears flickering flat. But she just comes and pulls the heavy curtains back, staring out into the distance. The glow of the city sits on the horizon, pinned with gemstone-lights. She leans forward, elbows propper on the window sill and hands on her chin.

“I don’t sleep much,” she says quietly.

He hesitates, then leaps nimbly onto the armchair on her other side, so he can peer out the window too.

“Yeah, well, you’re in good company,” he concedes after a moment. “Not sure how anybody does, to be honest.”

She snorts delicately at that, and he startles again. It’s the first time he’s seen that much life out of her — not counting her barely-banked outrage when he’d first called her boyfriend a robot, or the deadly-looking glow in her eyes a few moments ago.

“They think you can look away from the horrors of the universe,” she says emotionlessly, then shrugs. “I suppose—”

“No,” he interrupts flatly. “You can’t.”

She’s silent, and he doesn’t say anything either. They stare out toward the city for longer than Rocket knows — and to be honest, he’s only partly paying attention: sunk moodily into the horrors that plague his own mind. When he shakes himself – fur rippling from nose to tailtip — he’s reminded that he’s not alone. The witch looks as distant as he probably had. He’d been wondering — ever since the Snap — why she’d seemed so separate from her fellow Avengers, but he figures he gets it now. They’re an annoyingly optimistic bunch and she — she’s got her own horrors, too. 

She sighs, and stretches: hands gripping the sill, back arched like a cat. “Well,” she reasons. “If neither of us are sleeping, maybe we should get on the road?”

They stop at a roadside diner with outdoor seating and even though the sun is only blushing up the eastward horizon, Wanda insists on eating outside. She’s not trying to get in a situation where someone tells them that Rocket can’t be in a restaurant. She doesn’t have the energy to deal with his fury at the — well, the injustice of it. 

Because he’s not an animal. She’s still not sure exactly what he is, but he’s not an animal. She thinks again of his voice in the darkness beside her in the still-dark hours of the morning:

No, you can’t.

All of the Avengers do it, to some extent or another. Look past some of the horrors. She supposes it’s how they survive.

But she can’t.

She hasn’t been able to look away since she’d been trapped under that bed with Pietro, staring at the Stark Industries missile. She’s been waiting for death ever since. Now, under a rose-and-lavender sky with Rocket, she suddenly realizes that this is why it had been so easy to believe in Ultron’s promises.

Ultron hadn’t been able to look away, either. 

She supposes now that killing people is perhaps the wrong way to deal with it, but she still understands the broken heart at the core of the whole aching dilemma.

She’d started to take her eyes off it, once — the Stark Industries missile and everything else that came after. She’d started to lose sight of all that misery in the softness of Vis’ eyes, and now — now there’s nothing to distract her.

She just wants to look in his eyes again, instead of at — everything else.

But here’s Rocket, and he — she thinks maybe he understands. Strange, that she would find someone else so like her. It apparently took billions of lightyears’ worth of travel and some sort of — of alien mutation or something, but here he is.

They take breaks in Rochester and Sioux Falls, and listen to almost every song on the zune, including repeats from yesterday. Rocket picks up earpods and batteries and a dozen other small devices at every rest stop they pause at, and she doesn’t ask how he gets a hold of them. He tears them apart beside her, legs still swinging in the seat, and she imagines stopping somewhere and picking up a child’s carseat for him. There’s a curl in the corner of her mouth before she recognizes the feeling of it, and it startles her — to know that she’s still capable of smiling.

Rocket reconfigures the little devices into strange combinations that she’s sure are somehow purposeful, seemingly none-the-wiser in regards to her errant, probably-insulting thought and her first smile in years. The quiet between them feels oddly companionable. 

“Rocket,” she says, sometime between stops. “What is this mission Carol gave you, anyway? I need to know how I’m supposed to help you.”

He shrugs, focused on the now-unidentifiable piece of tech in his hands. It moves so fast — flashing metal and chipped plastic, little bundles of wires. “Gettin’ me there’s good enough, sweetheart,” he mutters, then flinches at the same time she shoots him a startled, sideways stare. “Sorry,” he mumbles, grimacing. 

She puts her eyes back on the pavement, the broken white lines sliding quickly beneath and beyond them. “That’s fine,” she says quietly, and he offers a half-shrug.

“Know Nat hates when I call her that,”  he admits, still focused on whatever he’s making. Another quick glance tells her his ears are flattened, though. “Try not to.” She can feel him hesitate before he flashes a sharp grin into her periphery. “Prob’ly can’t just keep calling you witch, though.”

She snorts before she can stop herself: a broken half of a chuckle, rusty and unused. “Why not?” she asks, and he snickers under his breath as the trees go by and the zune repeats another song through his makeshift adapter.

“I think calling her sweetheart is going to be the least of your concerns once she sees how you’ve messed with her car,” Wanda adds, and when he cackles, it pulls something answering out of her lungs: cherry-blossom-bright and unfamiliar, and real. The laugh feels strange in her mouth, absent so long she’d forgotten the petalled shape of it.

Both of them abruptly fall quiet, the sounds of Joan Jett curling through the speakers.

“Did you just—?” Rocket asks, the words crackling off at the end, and Wanda’s hands tighten on the wheel.

“Yes,” she says quietly, although the startle is still in her voice. “I did.”

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