#go kiss your stink king

[meatball-soup]

guys

this is the mattress i found in aoi's room

... and then.. quincy's..

it doesn't help that arthur said this in one of his KIM chats

[alanaaii]

SUNDRESS SZN☆

He like the dress a little too much.

Connie couldn’t stand his pretty girl leaving the house without him. Especially in that nice ass sundress. With a slap to your ass, connie’s presence was known. The type of slap that leaves a burning sting. “connie!” you yelled at him without turning away from the mirror where you was taking pics. “fine ass..” He said under his breath but you ignored him as you were focused on getting the perfect picture to post on the gram.

He took that personal and got closer to you. To the point your back was touching his chest. His hand slithered from behind you to your neck where he held a firm grip on it. “where the fuck you think you going?” You could feel the heat from his words glide over your ears. It made your insides flutter and your body instantly warm up.

But you knew connie and you knew his intentions and it was simple—Don’t let his girl leave the house.

“i was going to meet up with-“ you were cut off as you suddenly felt the hand that was securely around your neck tighten.“you don’t wanna stay wimme?” you could barely keep your balance. your legs felt like jello. “it’s sunny outside connie i want to go out” your protest fell to deaf ears. His ass was not listening to shit you had to say. He wanted you to stay home.

and he got exactly what he wanted. After a few minutes of going back and fourth.

You were arched in your king sized bed taking all of him. You couldn’t tell how long it’s been. 15 minutes? 2 hours? you don’t know. Connie had a mean grip on your braids as he thrusted harshly into your glistening wet pussy. “why..are you fuckin me like thiss!!” your words muffled from the pillow your face was currently kissing. “i just wanted you to stay wit’ me mama” he moved his free hand to your hip as he pulled you closer to him. Pushing himself deeper into you. You felt every single inch.

He had you smelling colors and seeing sounds. Incoherent nonsense spilling from your lips. Your makeup was mixed in with your tears and pillow. Connie seeing your messed up mascara only made his pounding faster. He released his hand from your hair and grabbed your other hip, bouncing your ass on him. “cumming cumming ‘m cumming!” your back arched even further, you came undone on him. “let it out fa me” He kept pounding into you as you came on him. Your cum stinking on his lower abdomen. Your screams were rewarding to connie and he couldn’t ask for anything more.

Likes, reblogs and follows are always appreciated! ♡

[aakeysmash]

hii, first time writing a prompt :)

maybe a drunk reader and sukuna has to take care of her and take her home, she forgot her jacket and he lends her his sweater. maybe established relationship?

(i love your sukuna fics hehehe)

i made this a bit angsty lol

"you look like a spider."

sukuna rolls his eyes, then turns around and keeps on dragging you by your hand, just like he has been doing for the past 10 minutes. "what the fuck are you saying now?"

you trip on your own two feet, again, and you have to stop, again. you see him closing his eyes and taking one big inhale. he's really close from breaking your neck. you wobbly get in front of him, squint and poke his chest with your freshly done nail. "you- *hic* have eight eyes. ouch!"

you frown, massaging your forehead. he just flicked you.

"spiders have eight legs, not eight eyes. and i do not have eight fucking eyes," he tells you, annoyed.

"okay but still," you pout. you look at him and- damn, he's really fucking pretty. even if he's blurry he looks like a king: he's only wearing a sweater, but he's the hottest man you've ever seen. you try getting on your tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek, but you almost fall face-flat on the concrete you're walking on.

"you stink, don't get close to me," he says, serious, dodging your attempt to grab his forearm. then he turns around and leaves you there, standing. you open your mouth to say something, but no words come out, so you just stare at his retreating back. you know you're annoying him badly. it's not like receiving a messy text saying your girlfriend is drunk and that she needs a ride could be pleasurable for anyone, especially if you told her to be careful while she was out with her friends and if the text was sent in the middle of the night. and especially if you fought before she got out.

you're a little bit lost in your thoughts, and walking has become really hard, and when you look up you don't see sukuna anywhere. you feel like crying. you hate when he gets angry, especially because you never know how to say sorry properly. you didn't think he'd leave you in the middle of the street, though.

you sit down on the sidewalk and decide to take off your heels. they're hurting your feet and they make you seem like a drug addict for the people that see you walk. not like you could care less without sukuna making fun of you for it. you went a little overboard, sure, but you don't leave a girl alone at night.

you start crying. you don't even remember why you fought in the first place; maybe something that had to do with mowing the lawn this saturday? or was it about last night's tv series? anyway, you start missing him badly, you just want to go to sleep and stop your head from hurting. plus, it's so cold tonight. why does he have to be this difficult?

"the fuck are you doing?" a voice comes from behind you. you jump a little and try turning around, but you're suddenly brought up by two massive arms, finding yourself face to face with your boyfriend. he's looking at you weirdly. it's so cold.

"oh. hi," you say, sniffling and trying to wipe your tears, only creating a bigger mess on your face from your mascara streaks. your feet are touching the bare concrete and you feel like a mess. you fidget while avoiding the eye contact he's trying to make.

"why are you- nevermind," he answers himself, exhaling hard. you close your eyes and try not to let more tears out, feeling like he's going to tell you you need a break of some sort, when a weird warmth engulfs you. you look at your shoulders, now covered by the jacket he always has in his car "just in case he gets cold". but you know he never gets cold, he always runs warm. he keeps that jacket in his car for you.

he gets one of his hands on your cheeks, angling your face towards him, then tries cleaning up your snot and make-up with a tissue. you look up at him, big eyes observing his every move. you're warmer now. his hand touching you is warm too, and he makes little circles on your skin. you know it's his way of saying he's sorry.

"you're so messy," he mumbles, his face extremely close to yours, kissing your nose lightly. you burst into tears again.

"yo what-"

"i- i thought you lef-left me here," you sob, leaning your head on his chest. he's paralyzed for a moment, then gets one hand on your small back and caresses your head with the other.

"baby, you were freezing, i just went to the car to get your- my jacket."

"i know but you were so-so annoyed *hic* i thought-"

"then stop thinking," he interrupts you. you still, then lightly nod, brushing your face on his shirt.

"not too much, pretty girl, this shirt is white," he chuckles in your ear, still massaging your scalp. you hum.

"let's get you home, m'kay? i'll run you a really nice bath. i'mma make sure you take aaaall your medicines and get you to bed, mh?" he mocks you, almost like he's talking to a child.

you softly punch his chest, then mumble, "the bath sounded nice."

you're swept off your feet, then he squats to get the heels you left on the sidewalk.

"then i'll run you one for real. everything for you."

you're already dead asleep when you get to his car, and he makes sure to kiss your forehead before closing the passenger door, a little smirk on his lips.

[darkbluekies]

Silas & King Edmund drabbles: darling drinking to deal with the situation

Yandere!mafia & yandere!king

Warnings: alcoholism, wrong ways to fix addiction (edmund), yandere, throwing up, mentions of murder

Silas:

He's had enough of you drinking. Frankly enough, he's worried about your health. He has his men grab all of your bottles and dump them out in the sink.

"Don't do that!" you burst out and try to run over to stop them.

Silas grabs you before you have the time to reach them. He holds you still, grimacing slightly.

"Your breath stinks, little one", he scolds you. "This is for you, you should actually thank me."

"I need that to fucking deal with you!"

"Oh, really? Is that so?"

You start to cry. The only reason that you have been able to deal with being Silas's wife/husband have been by being blacked out. If not, you can't handle the knowledge that the one holding and kissing you is the same person who murders behind your back.

Silas hugs you and kisses the top of your head. He cups your cheeks.

"If you continue like this you're going to kill your fucking liver", he says. "I'm not going to let you do that. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not."

A sudden wave moves through you and before anyone has the time to react, you throw up on the kitchen floor. Silas hurries to hold you up and gestures for his men to bring a bucket and cleaning supplies. He gives the men who empties the bottles into the sink warning gazes and they turn their back to you quickly.

"This is only the beginning, Y/N", he says in your ear. "Tomorrow, you'll be so hungover ... and that will be enough punishment to keep you in your lane."

"I fucking hate you", you mutter.

"You can hate me all you want, but you still wear my ring around your finger, and you will always belong to me. You better accept it."

"Boss, should we send them to the hospital?" his second in command asks as you throw up in the bucket. "To make sure that they haven't gotten any alcohol poisoning?"

You throw up again.

"Fine", Silas says. "You hear that, Y/N? You'll go to the doctor. Better lay off the alcohol and pick up some apples."

King Edmund:

He doesn't mind it at first, because you're kept where he wants you, in your bedroom ... but after a while he notices that when he wants to be with you, you barely respond coherently and you've lost the spark he loves.

He holds your wobbly head in his hands and scoffs.

"That's it", he says firmly and turns to his guards. "Destroy every snigle bottle of wine in the kingdom. Every, single bottle. We will have a total abstinence of alcohol."

"That's bullshit", you mutter.

"Language!"

You glare at him and pull your head out of his hands, tripping on yourself. Edmund cocks an eyebrow at you.

"Don't give me that look", he says. "You brought this upon yourself, Y/N. I'm doing this for you."

"No, you're doing this for yourself, because you don't like me when I'm drunk", you spit at him. "You don't care about my feelings and why I feel like drowning myself in your wine."

Edmund rolls his eyes. "You're not only drunk, you're wasted. You can't handle any type of conversation, you can barely eat properly and you're not the one I like to spend time with. People will talk. This is not how you should behave."

You sigh. You can't remember the last time you've been sober, and you're not sure that you want to be. Not with Edmund.

"To make sure that you sober up completely and won't be able to get any more alcohol", Edmund starts, "you will spend the night in the dungeon with a whole lot of water."

"No, not the dungeon", you beg drunkenly. "I hate that place. I hate the rats, and the moldy walls, and the screams, and-"

"I don't care. You need to be away from the wine."

When you start craving for alcohol tomorrow in the dungeon, you're afraid of what you'll do. The abstinence will be worse if you're down there.

"Start walking", Edmund says and gives you a push. "I'll get rid of this addiction once and for all."

You wobble.

"Fucking- ... do I need to carry you?" he mutters before throwing you over his shoulder. "I need to do everything myself around here, for fucks sake."

Quite ironic while being the king and having a castle full of servants.

[r0-boat]

Can I request a scenario with the WHB kings? (and any noble/s of your choice if you feel like it)

Them and gn!reader in a cramped space but reader is claustrophobic 🤔 it would've been a spicy scenario with them being smooshed together and all that but reader ain't having fun at all (possibly close to tears or already crying or panicking)

dropping by cuz it's been a while since i've shrimped around your ask box

- 🦐

This is like prime Levi shit...

Motherfucker would force you in his coffin to fuck you But this time we're taking a spin

Naga!whbLeviathan

Cw: noncon, MC is not having it, fucking in a tight space, with claustrophobia, breeding, Levi has two dicks, monster fucking, drugging venom aphrodisiac?

You're so likable... He hates it... And he knows why a pathetic human like you is so irresistible to monsters and your kind alike, as male and females block to you like moths to a bright light.

And here he was, his body aching as you're blissfully unaware of the pain and heat stirring in his belly and loins; he keeps his pain and suffering silent as he watches you laugh and flash your sweet smile at monsters that don't deserve such a privilege.

As his sense of smell heightens, everything that he wants claimed now reeks of tiger, dragon, insect even centaur... The only thing he has left is your closet which he had retreated into your closet,your once neatly fold and hanging clothes in a pile on the floor that is now his nest. Nestling against his coils and your familiar scented clothes rubbing his all over it. Now all he needs is you.

He knew you entered your bedroom He could smell you, as well as a lingering scent of something else something that irritated him. He listened closely as you stepped closer to your closet. Soon as you open that door he pounced grabbing on to you and pulling you into the dark corner rapping himself around you. He was salivating at your soft skin against him.

You for freaking out Your eyes wide as you were dragged into a tight space, having claustrophobia intense fear of small spaces you begged and screamed for Leviathan to let you go. But the Naga only covered your mouth with his hand before peppering your neck with soft kisses.

"I love you human mate with me."He murmured softly ignoring your struggles, another the other night with him This would be a rare moments where he confessed his true feelings of how he felt. But of course you consumed by fear didn't even care as you struggle to fight him struggle to break free which pissed him off.

"smell like animal. And you fight me... Do you not want to be mine? Who else is there that's you have been claimed by? I will claim you, breed you, brand you; make you forever mine."

He snarled his husky words tickling your ear as he begins to rip your clothing to pieces.

You streak and squirm against his coils as he turns you around to laugh up your tears with his tongue.

Even now you fight him... Is it because there's another? Is it one of the other animals stinking up the house? Or is it that human friend that he hates so much. He nuzzles his head into your neck taking in your familiar scent the other scent you have on you so muddled that he can barely recognize who it is. His fangs graze against your neck, gently piercing your skin giving you a dose of his venom. Not much just enough to slow your squirming and make you aroused enough to slide inside you.

"whoever you think your mate is, they do not compare to me."

His fingers play with his sheath as his cocks threaten to come out.

He strokes his cocks in his hand His gray eyes looking at you with love and lust. Every time you struggle he strangles you harder trapping you in tight coils.

"You are squirming more than usual. Do you really hate me that much? No matter, I'll make you mine. It is not your choice to make."

You could feel the venom going through your veins It is cold and makes your skin tingle as your skin becomes more sensitive, despite being trapped in the tight space of the closet and his coils the feeling of smooth scales rubbing against your skin is irresistible. You want to break free to get out but at the same time you want to rub yourself against him more.

With his strong tail he lifts one of your legs up placing it over his shoulder his fingers play with your hole before gently pushing one of his cocks inside.

As much as he wants to, he could not think good conscious rip you apart with his two cocks. He cannot hurt you like that, Even though he is already hurting you, but he does not know of your fear of tight spaces.

He could hear your rapid breathing, You're short rabbit breaths make his shake as the tip of his tail reaches your throat, wrapping it around it to squeeze. That hitch in your breath makes his cock twitch. As he stays inside of you, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

Your tight, squeezing walls make him want to thrust, So he does so, pressing himself deeper inside you. Then, when you moan his name, confirmation that he could go further, that's when he continues, bucking his hips and moving himself deeper his coils constricting and dilating with each thrust but his tail keeping the same pressure around your throat. And his other dick rubbing against you as the other one pounds inside of you deeper and deeper.

Your mind screams at you to get out of his consuming grasp, But your body craves the tight squeeze of his coils.

Leviathan's mind becomes muddled by his consuming heat as he begins to move faster. Grabbing both of your legs folding them over your shoulders too get you in a better position to pound down into you. His breath shakes as he moans a mantra of words

"Mate, mate, mate. Take it, take it, take it, mine, mine, mine, mine."

His cock rubbing against you while his deep inside of you hitting your sensitive spots make you cum, your walls squeezing around him, milking him. The naga's eyes roll back into his head as he cums inside of you with a roar. Yelling and moaning is he grinds himself deeper filling you up to the brim with his seed.

You don't know what happened after that perhaps you passed out, perhaps you fell asleep, and his coils. But when you woke up you were on your bed with him beside you a tail wrapped around your leg. His arms around you nuzzling against your chest, when he noticed you woke up he gave you a sweet smile giving you a small kiss on your skin.

"Morning, my love." He murmured just enough for only you to hear.

The first thing you did when you woke up was beat the shit out of him.

[fanged-fanfics]

Story of Mk where we sit him down and tell him to actually relax. Since this boy needs to have a relaxing day where he isn't stressing.

Maybe we put on Monkey Cop and do a movie marathon?

💛🍜 To Calm a Monkey Kid — MK x GN Reader Drabble 💛🍜

Genres: Fluff, mild hurt/comfort || He/they pronouns for MK, they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

Having MK home for an extended period of time was usually very difficult. He was a delivery boy, local hero, and successor all at the same time. Suffice to say, home was something he was gradually seeing less and less of. And you weren't having one bit of it. It was all well and good that he was stopping Jin and Yin from messing with the city power and whatnot, but you were beginning to see how it affected them. Dark circles, droopy posture, a more unkempt appearance. Though MK always brushed it off with a smile and a wink, you knew them well enough to look past it. So when you got home one day, you began putting into motion a plan.

MK slid in hours later, closing the door behind them and sighing heavily. Their bandana was loose, hair ruffled, and body language slumped and heavy. As was consistent for the past few months, he looked an absolute wreck. "MK?" You called out, hearing the door closed from another room. MK shook off his exhaustion, quickly making their hair neat and rubbing his eyes. He bounded down the hallway, peeking in your shared bedroom to try and find you.

"Just got home! Where you at, baby?" They called. You came in from the bathroom, giving him a soft, concerned smile. He immediately wrapped you up, vibrant mask in full effect "There you are!". "How was your day?" You asked, immediately taking notice of how MK deflated just a bit. "Well- I'm not reaaally where I wanna be in my training, and the demons attacking today were pretty tough. And Pigsy's Noodles was just crawling with orders-" they listed off. Seeing you frown, MK immediately added, "But I'm fine! It's the end of the day now, so I'm good!". They felt a small hint of stress upon seeing your frown only deepen.

"Hey, hey, what's up? Did something happen?" He asked. "No, but... I'm worried about you" You admitted "You've been stretched thin these past few months. I can't remember the last time I saw you eat anything but noodles, and you're barely home". "I know" MK sighed, rubbing the back of their neck "But it's okay! I'll-"

"It's not okay" You interrupted, not rudely, but firmly "MK, I love you, and you cannot keep doing this to yourself. It's not healthy, honey. I don't want you to run yourself into the ground for other people". MK hung their head a bit, a look of guilt on their face. You gently rubbed their shoulder "I don't want to make you feel forced into anything, and I'll never ask you to give up your dream. But I need you to look out for yourself too, yeah? If you ever need my help, you can always ask". MK nodded, looking back up at you with a small smile, a genuine and vulnerable one this time "You're... right. You always are. It's just so hard with so much going on, y'know? I feel like I've got to be the Monkey Kid, all the time. But with you, I'm just... just Xiaotian"

"And that's an amazing thing" You said, gently kissing his forehead. He smiled wider, returning it by giving you a big kiss to the cheek. You chuckled, ruffling his messy hair "I've got a plan for us tonight, Xiao. Firstly, you gotta get all that hero stink off. Then we'll take it easy, as a first step to taking better care of yourself. Is that okay?". MK chuckled as well at the ruffling, looking at you with appreciative softness "Uh, yeah! Thank you so much, honeybee, I'll catch up in a sec". They gave you another big kiss to your face before picking up a new set of clothes and entering the bathroom.

As the successor cleaned, you prepped the rest of the room. Fluffed pillows, clean comforter, and all of MK's Monkey King cuddleable merch you could carry. You then sped off to the kitchen, picking up a tray of snacks you'd prepared. It didn't take long for MK to emerge again as clean, dressed in comfortable pajamas, with damp hair he was keeping down. They looked at the setup you'd finished as they were gone, glancing to the TV. Seeing what was on, their eyes brightened immensely and a broad grin came on his face.

They scrambled over, hopping into bed and crawling under the covers, causing you to have to catch the snack tray before it got tossed off. "No way!! You got Monkey Cop on DVD?!" They asked excitedly. You sat in beside him, scooting close to his side "It's a DVD set, actually. All the movies are in the box". MK flapped his hands excitedly, trying not to kick too much since he was easily getting tangled in the covers. "Yesss!! Are you finally gonna watch them all with me?" They asked, looking to you like an excited dog. You laughed a little, wrapping an arm around them and pressing your cheeks together "Absolutely. I think it's about time, yeah?"

MK scooped up the remote, quickly starting rhe first movie. He turned off the lights, snuggling down into the covers as he began munching from the bowl of popcorn you'd brought. You leaned into their shoulder as they kept an arm around you, seeing as the movie opened up. MK nuzzled the top of your head. "Thanks for this, babe. I really needed it". You smiled, nuzzling into them into return "No problem. You can come to me whenever, I'll always help you out"

With that, you two cuddled up more, wrapped in a bundle of blankets. MK moved his arm to where he could hold your hand, petting your fingers affectionately with his thumb as he watch the cheesy cop film with you. He made a promise to himself internally in that moment. Days like this, times like these with you, were what he was fighting for the most

[classiccowboy]

instagram. j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his wife evie as they go through is football career.

*face claim is yasmin quintana*

series masterlist.

evie

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_, and 780,726 others

evie: “holding hands is like touching souls” 🤍

view all 5,729 comments…

user: how are we supposed to just live with this

user: i’m so jealous

joeyb_9: my girl. 😚

> evie: always always always.

user: do you think he knows she just posts him for attention?

> user: do you think he will ever see this comment? probably not.

user: i’m feeling extremely single right now.

lahjay10_: y’all be holding hands like crazy

> evie: we locked for life. 🤍🔒

user: wait this is actually so sweet, imagine how many pics she has of them just holding hands. she’s so down bad.

joeyb_9

liked by evie, lahjay10_ and 304,837 others

joeyb_9: Green Goblin

view all 2,681 comments…

user: Great football Joe!

user: SHIESTYYYYYY

millyg: joey tell ev to text me back.

user: green like that bank account baby

user: that’s hot

evie: 🥦🥒🍏🫛🫑🥑

> joeyb_9: you gotta calm down.

user: QB is always sharp

evie

liked by bengals, joeyb_9, and 990,864 others

evie: out here

view all 1,863 comments…

user: tell jb to pop a perc and get back out there

> evie: kind of a tactless comment my guy, he’d be out there if he was able.

user: man screwed my fantasy team

> evie: yeah forget your fantasy team, it wasn’t his fault.

user: brave woman

joeyb_9: jacket=dope

user: chefs kiss

user: go bengals!

millyg: i love to see you this happy 💗💗

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 709,950 others

joeyb_9: Just another stage on the journey of life

view all 11,306 comments…

user: praying for you my boy

nfl: 🙏🏼

evie: keep your head up baby, i love you.

> joeyb_9: couldn’t do it without you

joemainmixon: We got you brother!

user: the “he’s back” post next season is going to go crazy

user: get better soon lover

lahjay10_: the comeback will be legendary

user: revenge tour for real next year

cjstroud: 🙏🏾

user: joey take my wrist, i don’t need it.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 91,736 others

evie: another gamedey in jungle. if you’re not in cincy you stink!

view all 7,728 comments…

user: still going to games??

> evie: ofc. those are my boys!

millyg: my little sweet pea

> evie: 🫛

user: my mom loves you (me too btw)

> evie: i luv ur mom. 😁💗

user: love to see you smiling

user: how is jb?

> evie: inspiring. 💗

joeyb_9: i like you.

> evie: omg thanks for sharing. i like you 2. 🤩🤪

joeyb_9

liked by lahjay10_, evie, and 852,100 others

joeyb_9: Learn to love discomfort

view all 5,793 comments…

lahjay10_: haha i just know you uncomfortable sitting like that. that’s what you mean by the caption?

> evie: lmao ur goofy

user: let’s go jb6

user: biggest qb in the league

user: happy birthday joe we love you!

evie: criss cross applesauce???

> joeyb_9: it’s called indian style. 🙄

> evie: is that what the big kids are calling it??

> user: ev is on his ass

user: it doesn’t go unnoticed you being on the sidelines for your teammates

user: are you and ev going to celebrate your special day?

> evie: we don’t skip bdays around here. even if you have a major surgery..

user: happy birthday king joe!

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 890,110 others

evie: bits and pieces

view all 3,611 comments…

user: wishing you and joe a lovely off season and smooth recovery

> evie: 💗💗💗

user: you’ll be back killing it next season! i can’t wait

user: okay, the teddy shirt? CUTE!

> evie: one of my favs

user: always giving us a peek at jb

> user: it’s funny how ev used to be the only one that called him jb and now it’s become one of his many nicknames.

user: going to be missing you this off season.

joeyb_9: puddle pic is 10/10 cuteness

> evie: 🥹💗

joeyb_9

liked nfl, bengals, and 891,028 others

joeyb_9: Sorry for the missed time. Return of the Jedi

view all 10,112 comments…

user: i hope my gf doesn’t see this post

user: miss u

user: see you next year daddy joe

evie: joe you can’t just post this on a monday morning with no warning.

> user: ev saying what we are all thinking

> joeyb_9: oh, i don’t know the rules. i thought this was my account.

> evie: smart. ass.

user: BURROW REVENGE ARC

user: can’t wait to see you back!

evies stories

* last part for now. 😢 *

if you want me to pick this back up once the season starts, give this a big ❤️ hehehe.

[spnbabe67]

Darling, You Look Divine

Kinktober Day 21: Body Worship (D.W.)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2002

Warnings: Smut, Angst, John Winchester (Flashback), Fluff

Summary: When Tori starts to get insecure, Dean is more than happy to show his girl why she's beautiful

Authors Note: Title inspired by the song Eyes Don't Lie by Isabel LaRosa

Created for @anyfandomgoesbingo /Square Filled: Multiple Orgasms

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @nightxcreature

Dean knew something was off with Tori. She’d gone to take a shower after dinner while Dean was finishing up doing the dishes. When he came back to their room he found her standing in front of the mirror that he and Sam had hung up. Tori had complained about the fact that every time she wanted to see how an outfit looked, she had to go to the bathroom for the floor length mirrors in there, rather than the small one on the medicine cabinet in the room. She was standing there, gorgeous body on display, her hair still damp from her shower. Dean walked up behind her, placing his hands onto her hips as her brown eyes met his in their reflection. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head a yours?” Dean mumbled as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to her shoulder.

He felt her shrug, dipping her head before looking back up, catching his gaze in the mirror where he could see the glistening of tears starting to form. 

“Talk to me, Sweetheart.” Dean wrapped his arms around her middle, but hesitated as he felt her stiffen under his touch. “What’s goin’ on, Baby?”

“It’s nothing, I just,” Tori started, taking a deep breath as she placed a hand over Dean’s arms. She laughed a little, tilting her head to rest against his. “God, I feel like I’m back in high school, picking myself apart in front of a mirror.”

Dean had an inkling that’s what was bothering her. Lord knows he’s spent enough time in his years placed in front of a mirror. After coming back from Hell, he kept checking his body for all the scars he’d earned after years of hunting. But everytime Alistair and his demons broke him down to pieces, they put him back together better than he had been, including getting rid of the scars and marks from before he was sent down below. That didn’t even take into account how many times before he’d met Tori that he’d stared himself down, loathing every feature that he shared with John, loathing the hardness of his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyes had lost the spark in them. 

He vividly remembered being plunked down in a gas station bathroom, all dingy and covered in graffiti, stinking of piss and body odor. He couldn't have been older than 12 when John had decided that his hair had grown too long. He remembered pleading with him to let him keep his hair the way it was. Remembered the sternness of his fathers voice as he grabbed the clippers and a pair of medic shears from his bag. He could still feel the tears on his cheeks as John had taken the shears to his hair, then the clippers. When he was done, Dean glanced in the mirror, and he saw his father staring back at him, only John had already left the bathroom.

“Does my girl need a reminder of how pretty she is?” Dean said softly, smoothing his hands across her belly to her hips. 

“Dean-”

“Nuh uh.” Dean cut her off, squeezing her hips. “I want you to watch yourself in the mirror, alright?”

Dean waited for Tori to nod, catching her slightly confused look in the reflection. He kissed her shoulder as he let his hands brush across her body until they landed on her belly. 

“Let’s start here, shall we?” Dean traced small shapes across her skin, circling the tip of his index finger around her belly button. He knew this was the main source of her insecurity, she’d said so before, telling him how she’d gained weight living in one spot. She was the furthest thing from fat, not that he would mind either way. Bodies change, but no matter how she looked, she’d still be his Tori. 

“This is normal. This lets me know you are well fed. It’s my job to spoil you and make sure you are taken care of. This tells me I’m doing my job right. Besides, you know how much I love to lay my head here. Speaking of which.”

He slid his hands higher, cupping her breasts. Dean heard Tori’s breath catch, saw the flush of her cheeks. “Do you know how much these drive me crazy? How much you drive me crazy? Makin’ me go crazy when you wear those tight tank tops.” Dean rolled her nipples between his fingers as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Don’t you think for one second I don’t know you’re teasin’ me when you wear them.”

Her laugh was the sweetest music to his ears, so breathy as she arched her back into his hands. He smiled into her shoulder, eyes catching hers in the mirror. Dean slid his hands back down her sides, feeling her shiver under his ministrations as one ended up on her thigh.

“And these?” Dean slid a hand along the inside of her thigh. “Don’t even get me started on these. I love the way these look in your jeans, and in those tiny shorts you know make me lose my mind. How many times these legs of yours have saved my ass, carrying me back home. So strong but so damn soft, I can’t get enough. Can’t get enough of the way they wrap around my head when I’m between ‘em”

Dean wasn’t sure Tori’s face could get any redder, her blush traveling down her neck, her breath growing shallower as he slid his hand higher and higher until he cupped her soaked core. 

“And I know you know how much I love this. Love to taste you, love how well you wrap around me. So responsive for me.” Dean pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of Tori’s neck as he slid a finger down her center. 

She was already soaked as he ran his middle finger along her, finding her clit. His other hand wrapped around her waist, keeping her back pressed against his chest. “Keep those eyes open for me, Sweetheart.” Dean guided. 

Tori whimpered as he toyed with her clit, finding that perfect rhythm. Dean knew just how to make her fall apart. He’d mapped her body out in his head, knew every curve, every mark, every scar like it was his own. Most of all, he knew just how to have her moaning his name. His thumb took over as he slid his middle finger into her. She was so wet his finger slid in with little resistance, her inner walls fluttering around the digit. Dean watched on as Tori’s eyes were locked onto where his hand had cupped her core, where his fingers expertly moved in and out of her. 

Dean damn near purred as Tori reached up, carding her fingers through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He could feel her clench around his fingers as he added his ring finger, curling them upwards towards her belly. He was glad he had an arm around her waist as Tori’s legs started to shake, her hips rolling against his hand. 

“C’mon Baby. You got it. Let go for me.” Dean whispered to her. “Look how pretty you are when you cum for me.”

He cursed to himself as she clamped down on his fingers, moaning his name as she came, never taking her eyes off herself. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, panting as she came down from her high. Tori didn’t resist as Dean slid a hand under her legs, picking her up bridal style. He laid her down on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before crawling up the bed to nestle himself between her legs. Dean placed a kiss to the inside of her knee, trailing hot kisses along the softness of her inner thigh all the way back to the apex between them. 

“You’re the whole damn package, Sweetheart. So beautiful, I can’t ever take my eyes offa you. Not that I’d ever want to.” Dean nipped at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. 

His first taste of her was heaven. Instantly her hands found their way into his hair, tugging the strands as he laved his tongue up her center. Dean quickly found her puffy clit, pulling it between his lips, gently grazing his teeth against the bundle of nerves in a way that had her thighs squeezing his head. His hand snaked around Tori’s thigh and across her hips, holding them down to the bed, keeping her from wiggling too much. Her ragged moans met his ears, even through the tight grip her thighs had around his head as his tongue worked in and out of her, his nose nudging her clit

Quickly she arrived back at that high, keening as she came on Dean’s face. Dean happily worked her through her high, tongue flicking against her clit, dipping into her molten hot core until she was practically pushing his head away from between her legs. 

Dean pulled away, licking his lips as he pushed his sweats from his legs, his cock painfully hard from the moment he’d slipped his hand between her legs. He kissed his way up her body, starting at her pubic bone, letting his tongue drag every so often as he worked from her belly to between her breasts to the hollow of her throat until he finally claimed her mouth. Tori clung to him as Dean gently pushed himself into her. He moaned lowly at the feel of her velvet walls wrapped around him. There was no resistance as he slid in and in and in. 

“Feel so good, Sweetheart.” Dean praised, smoothing a hand up her side. “Takin’ me so well.”

He started to move once she had time to adjust to him, going slow at first as he kissed down her neck, hand coming up to squeeze her thigh as he placed it on his waist. Tori felt so good beneath him, so soft and pliant, juxtaposed to the hard edges of him. She was so damn pretty. Dean felt his heart swell with affection, in pride that he could say that this gorgeous woman was all his. 

“My pretty girl.” He mumbled against her mouth as he rolled his hips into hers, going at that languid pace that he knew had her barreling towards that edge once again. “Feel so good, my pretty girl.”

Dean could feel that heat low in his hips just as Tori started to sink her nails into his arm, whispering his name to the non-existent space between them. 

“I know, Baby, I know. Me too. Let go for me.”

Dean tried his best to keep the same pace, to keep his hips from bucking wildly into her heat as her walls fluttered around him, legs shaking. Tori’s third orgasm had her cumming hard, body going tense beneath him. She clamped down hard, triggering his own release. Dean claimed her mouth, moaning into the kiss as they shared their high.

Dean eased himself down beside her on the bed, pulling her to lay atop him as their breathing slowed. He caressed the side of her face, pushing inky strands of hair behind her ear. Tori smiled sleepily at him, both of them thoroughly fucked out. Dean traced up and down her spine, letting his fingers brush along her soft olive skin. 

“Thank you.” Tori pressed a kiss to his chest as she reached up, intertwining their hands. 

“No, thank you.” Dean replied. “I’ll take any chance I can get to show my pretty girl just how divine she is.”

Dean chuckled as Tori blushed hard again, hiding her face in his chest. She giggled as she looked back up at him. “What’d I do to deserve you, huh?” 

“I should be asking you that question.” Dean ran a hand through her hair again, the touch soothing for the both of them. “With you, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

[unholly-reader]

I will choose you for the rest of our life - Daemon Targaryen x f!OC!

Hello lovely people!

Daemon's charm has once again struck and so here is some well deserved Daemond fluff. I apologize in advance for any accidents caused by swooning over our favourite Rogue Prince.

Once again - English is NOT my first language!

Enjoy, my dragon lovers!

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

It was still a warm summer evening when Alanna returned from her journeys beyond the City limits where she accompanied Rhaenyra waiting in the prince on the ground while she took Syrax for a ride. It was a pleasant enough afternoon considering the Princess had a terrible fight with the King about her marriage prospects and the reality of spending a life with somebody which happened to be his favorite subject as of late. Unfortunately, Rhaenyra did not share her father's sentiments and was adamant on remaining unwed. The topic brought many a disagreement between the King and his named Heir, however the love they both shared remained unquestionable. It was clear for Alanna as well as everyone in Court that the day Rhaenyra decides to marry would be the day the nonsense arguments will end but until then the eldest Lady Hightower took vigilant care of the Princess keeping her company and advising if necessary.

- I must say Princess, it will never cease to amaze me how truly united you and Syrax are. It's as if you're two bodies and one soul - said Alanna, dismounting her horse after reaching the royal stables. Rhaenyra chuckled lightly, jumping off her golden mare with ease and smiling to her companion.

- I wish you could know how it feels, Aunt Alanna. The bond between a dragon and its rider is second to none, truly.

- I am quite content seeing you with Syrax, sweet girl. It brings me so much joy to see you smile, especially after rough mornings such as today.

Rhaenyra nodded gratefully at Alanna, walking towards her with a gentle, but saddened smile.

- I am so very thankful to have you here, Aunt Alanna. I don't what I would have done if your father had sent to Old Town.

- Luckily, we don't have to find that out. Now come, you must eat something and above all you need a long bath. You stink of dragon - laughed Alanna, putting her arm over the Princess's shoulders.

Rhaenyra joined her in laughter as they made their way towards the Keep when the gates opened themselves to reveal Ser Harrold Westerling approaching both ladies. Quickly he descended the stairs and walked to them, bowing dutifully.

- My Princess. My Lady. The King requires your presence in the throne room.

Rhaenyra sighed heavily, taking her gloves off.

- By Gods, we have only argued this morning. Can't whatever my father needs from me wait until tomorrow?

The commander bowed his head once again, looking at the Heir apologetically.

- Pardon me, Princess, but the King has asked for the Lady Alanna.

It was now Alanna's turn to snap her head to Ser Harrold in surprise. She glanced at Rhaenyra, shock painted on her face.

- Me? Whatever for?

- I couldn't say, My Lady. He only requested that you come down to the throne room and that the matter is urgent.

Lady Hightower nodded politely, turning to face Rhaenyra and put her hands on the girls shoulders.

- We shall meet for dinner, sweet girl. You go wash off that stench of yourself and I will come see you later.

Rhaenyra hesitated but eventually she kissed Alanna's cheek and walked on towards her chambers.

- Ser Harrold.

- Princess.

Alanna watched as the girl disappeared behind the doors and then turned her gaze to the knight. Ser Harrold held his arm out as if to invite the woman to walk with him, bowing his head slightly.

- If you please, My Lady.

The woman followed his direction in silence, entering the Red Keep and moving to the corridors leading straight to the throne room. The inside od the castle were brightly lit by many torches and candles surrounding the place, but here and there the setting sun crept inside the Keep's walls. Alanna held her skirt in one palm as the train of her dark blue gown swept the floors behind her, while she quietly walked by Ser Harrold's side. It was a short walk as they reached the throne room soon enough. Ser Harrold had the guards open the doors and he led Alanna inside, where the King sat upon his throne all by himself.

- Lady Alanna Hightower, Your Grace - announced Ser Harrold as Alanna stepped into the light, standing atop the stairs.

- Thank you, Ser Harrold. You may take your leave now - replied Viserys, waving his hand at the knight. The Lord Commander bowed and swiftly left the room, leaving the King and his sister by law alone.

- Please, do come in, Lady Alanna.

Suspecting nothing of the foul means Alanna descended down the stairs and walked up to the King, curtsying before the monarch with a polite bow of her head.

- Your Grace - she said respectfully, straightening her posture and looking at Viserys with a gentle smile - I do not mean any disrespect, Your Grace, but is there a particular reason why you asked to see me?

- Are you happy here, My Lady?

- Pardon me, Your Grace? - asked Alanna, baffled by the King's question.

And so Viserys repeated his query.

- I asked if you are happy here, in the Capital?

Alanna smiled bashfully, not quite sure what to say to that unusual question.

- I am quite happy, Your Grace. Spending my time with the Princess and my sister, the Queen is all I could ever ask for. I am truly grateful to you for allowing me to stay at Court.

- And what of your marriage prospects, my dear? Has there been any word from your father in that matter?

This question baffled Alanna even more so than the first one. She smiled politely at the King, trying to uphold the unsuspecting demeanor while in reality she kept wondering about where this conversation was leading.

- I could not say, Your Grace. My father has not been the most attentive towards me ever since my sister became the Queen. I believe it is the matters of the realm and those of your bedchambers that concern him more than myself, Your Grace.

Alanna did not register what words left her mouth until the moment they left it. It took her only a few second to realize what she ghat just said to her King and how disrespectful it was towards him and her father. Not to mention how unladylike this behavior was. Quickly she bowed her head, staring at the tips of her shoes peeking from underneath her dark blue dress, praying that the King would not feel insulted by her choice of words.

- Your Grace, I apologize. I meant no insult either to you or my father. I seem to have forgotten to hold my tongue.

Instead of hearing the angry King reprimand her, she heard a mere laugh. When she looked up, she saw the King smiling, almost grinning like a fool and laughing as if she had just told him something incredibly funny. It was a rare sight to see Viserys this joyful, especially since it has been a tough couple of days for him and his eldest daughter.

- You Grace?

The King’s laughter slowly died down as he walked up to Alanna, gently raising his hand to hold her chin up. Staring into the King’s lilac eyes she was reminded of her lover’s eyes, so bright and pure in the light of the setting sun.

- I could not see it before, but I do now - said Viserys with a thoughtful smile - You share the same spirit, but you also possess the fierceness to tame him.

Somehow Alanna knew he was speaking of Daemon, but she would not let it be known to the King. Without shifting her demeanor she continued acting clueless and unaware.

- I do not know what it is you are speaking of, Your Grace.

- I have been told that there were numerous occasions you were seen with my brother and you seemed to have been thoroughly enjoying his company. Is this true?

Alanna froze in place. She didn't know how to answer this, whether to tell the truth or keep on lying. It has been like a thorn at her side, not being able to stand by Daemon, speak with him, touch is hand. It would be risky to reveal her true feelings, especially to the King, but something was telling her it was the right thing to do. So she did it.

- It is true, Your Grace - answered Alanna, holding the King's gaze proudly.

It wasn't defiance or arrogance, but there was something that Viserys saw in her eyes in that moment. Like she had made a choice to stop hiding. There was this indescribable spark in her blue orbs, something the King could not quite put his finger on but he knew that may very well have been the reason his brother fell for this young lady. Gently he let his hand fall down, still holding her gaze with a kind smile.

- If you were given the choice to marry whom you desire, who would be your chosen husband?

This time Alanna did not falter nor did she hesitate. She wasn't sure what the game Viserys played with her was, but she somehow didn't care about the consequences. He was her King and she owed him her loyalty, and above all else - her truth.

- Daemon.

Her answer was loud and clear, no doubt in her voice or in her eyes and only a fool wouldn't see it. The King was no fool.

- Do you love my brother, Lady Alanna?

- With everything I am today and everything I ever hope to become.

Viserys did not expect such honesty. He knew only what Daemon had told him of his feelings for his sister by law, but it came as a surprise to the King to learn of her devotion towards his brother. She stood there with her head held high, eyes staring into the King's lilac orbs with no fear. Viserys hummed to himself, taking a few steps back and turning away to face the throne. He contemplated the circumstances while Alanna awaited her verdict. As it turned out patience seemed to have run thin within her mind as she spoke up, grabbing Viserys's attention.

- I do not know why it would matter to you, Your Grace, but whatever you may think of your brother, he is who my soul longs for - said Alanna, smiling dreamily like a little girl - I could never forget him or abandon him and no matter how many times he is exiled from Court, I will always await his return if only to gaze upon his face. He is my reason and my sanity and I am certain nothing could ever change that.

The King turned around swiftly, looking at his sister by law as if he saw her for the first time. Her eyes were glimmering like the night sky lit by showers of shooting stars. Her face was almost glowing as if the love she had for his brother illuminated her features. Viserys only ever witnessed this kind of devotion twice. The first was the love he was born from, the one that united his father, Prince Baelon with his mother, Princess Alyssa. Although blurry and somewhat worn-away, memories of the love his parents shared was imprinted on his mind, daily reminding him of what is supposed to matter to him most. His family.

The second time he witnessed this type of love was when he met Aemma. Even though they didn't fall for one another at first sight, she had made him the man he became, the King he grew up to be. Choosing his heir over her life would always be his worst nightmare, haunting him each and every night. Despite the tragic ending he knew he was truly loved and loved truly in return. Much like Alanna seemed to love his brother and from what the King could tell, Daemon loved her just as much.

- And is Lady Alanna the wife you would choose, brother? - asked Viserys, still looking at his good-sister.

Alanna felt her heart stop in her chest as Daemon emerged out of the shadows behind the Iron Throne. He was wearing his dark grey breeches and white linen shirt, his short hair ruffled as if he had just woken up but in her eyes he never looked more handsome. And she could swear he never looked at her with so much emotion in his eyes ever before.

- I would choose her now and every day for the rest of my life.

As Daemon approached the King and his beloved, Alanna could not mutter a single word. She was too stunned to speak. The Rogue Prince walked towards her but stopped beside his brother, never taking his eyes off his beloved. Viserys glanced at Daemon and then faced Alanna with a kind smile on his face, feeling his heart fill up with joy. Looking at the two of them he knew there was only one right thing to do.

- The day I married Alicent, you became my good sister and since then not a day has passed that you wouldn't serve me with your good word or the actions of your kind heart. In all this time I never thought to thank you for all that you have done for my family, for my daughter in the absence of her late mother, but maybe now I will repay my debt - said the King, taking her hand in his, at the same time grabbing Daemon's hand as well and joining them together.

Alanna felt tears gathering in her eyes as she looked at Daemon and their joined hands. When Viserys stepped back, his younger brother took a hold of Alanna's palm in both his hands, going down on one knee before her.

- I will choose you every day for the rest of our lives, my light. If you'll have me - spoke Daemon, gently caressing her hand.

The Lady Hightower was at a loss for words. She felt all her emotions go on a rampage as she looked down at the love of her life asking her to be his for eternity. She could not believe it was real, but somehow she knew it was. She had him right there at the grasp of her hands and all she had to do was say "yes". Instaed of saying anything, Alanna kneeled before him, putting her hand over his grasping her other palm and brought them to her lips. She looked up in his lilac eyes, so true and loving she could fall apart right there and then, and simply said the words.

- And I will choose you for the rest of our life, my love. Just like I choose you today.

[ms0milk]

𝟏𝟗 | 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"He quiets you with the sound and your smile falls. You are captain of the guard all dressed in red, training squires on spring mornings. He is the king who rises at dawn to watch you."

cw suggestive, kissing among other things, tooth tongue saliva, fingers and lips, manhandling, grinding, disregarded injuries, an audience if you squint. a beleaguered team regroups in the castle underbelly and someone is a flight risk. yn is thrilled and itching to fight but her prince can't focus. he can't let her go 5.2k

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Autumn in Takoba is hell everywhere else and even with the first ticklings of sunrise, the cold is immeasurable. Like the queen made a deal with grief and now her country becomes her heart. You wake first, tucked and folded into the space between your prince’s chest and the wall.

Your comfort is found between groggy thoughts, in the rough blanket someone has wrapped you up with, and in Bakugou’s arm that falls over your waist to keep that warmth inside of it. He’s dreaming, muttering something into the back of your head. He smells like home. Even unconscious, his bicep strains through the effort of holding something gently.

The night returns to you in pieces under the pathetic white light of a candle sconce. Something nearby reeks of the sea. A single roll of your shoulder confirms the bandages there, crusted in stiff blood and still too sore to stifle a wince because you were something not quite war fodder. A golden hand flexes broad across your stomach when you fidget in the dark. You were a guest at the queen’s ball, you were target practice, you killed Takobans. You underestimated your bloodloss. You are falling through the air into Bakugou’s arms again, dancing, glowing, bleeding, clingy. The king embraces his undead son. The mage. You fly up to sitting so quickly the world cannot react to you.

Bakugou is curled around the space you left in the dark, bloody and spattered with ash. His own blanket is pulled up over his jaw to ward off the chill and behind him is Mina, cheek flush to his back. Blood crusts down her temple in a path from her hair.

Sweat has soaked into the two places the prince held you most closely and chills now in the free air, heat and damp from his breath at the nape of your neck and down the small of your back where his hips cradled yours all bundled in good-enough blankets. The sweat is welcomed, it is ammunition, it is warm, it’s proof of your still beating heart. Don’t need a fucking babysitter. Cover yourself. Quit starin’. Don’t call me that. Eyes! You are mine. His eyebrows flex and knit in the seconds before he wakes up, but he is safe and he is exhaustingly whole.

It stinks like ocean foam because this hallway where you shelter is in the bowels of the castle, deep in its belly, tucked under the kitchens where your prince hid from you for weeks. Damp stone, fire in the air, the memory of this hallway from over the prince’s shoulder. Of stepping through the only red door here and returning to Aldera.

“Y/n?” A voice floats in whispers through the dark and down the hallway from the dim light of another candle.

“Who's there?”

There’s no response, no time, before one golden hand is flat across your chest and your prince raises his other to the sound, bristling with sparks. Bakugou startles from sleep and pushes you behind him. Mina groans, rubbing the back of her head.

In the dark, damp, and cold, he is made of starlight. When your prince exhales, the frost from him is tinged with tiny sparks.

“Calm down, Sleeping Beauty.”

You realize as the prince does that the voice is Shinsou’s and in the momentary relief Bakugou swings on you. Even before the Takoban guard can emerge from the dark he turns, hands snapped around both your wrists, apprehending his criminal. Red eyes, breath of smoke and a growl, the boy who laughs when he dances is back at home and you are left with the prince who hates your company.

“You.”

A defiant breath falls from you but you don’t dare voice it. No longer hidden in sleep, his still-beautiful face is marred at the jaw, a red burn in the lopsided shape of a hand. You would take his cheeks up in your fingers if he weren’t holding you steadfast. You would take the head of the man who hurt him. Your prince tightens his grip. He is staring strong enough to brand his fury on the backs of your eyes and without his chest, without your blankets, the chill creeps in like a tide. 

“Selfish fucking–”

“You're injured,” you try to dip closer in inspection but Bakugou riots.

In the ballroom he clung to you, in the shadows he invited you close, in this hallway he is the sun of your orbit. He is fire. Your prince jerks a hand over your bandaged heart without much mind to your company and seethes, “You are reckless.”

“I am exceptional,” you breathe without thinking. He is the brightest, angriest thing in the sky. He is arora and you’re a girl in golden fields, staring. His fingers warm your breast where dragontooth used to perch. Does he not get it? “I will die for you.”

Too much and not enough, he is spiteful and aggressive and alive, and maybe now he hates you enough for Takoba to have been a dream.

“Where is our company?” You speak again, nerves itching.

“Think they’re lost without miss martyr?”

Mina swats at him but he doesn’t let you go. “What’s wrong with you?” He glows at the edges like you haven’t seen since the forest outside Takoba. Bakugou’s teeth are bared but his wrath is different than before. He’s not picking a fight, he’s not forcing himself free of you. Your prince holds you tight in front of him where you cannot hide. He stares.

“Highness, where are they?”

“In the castle,” Shinsou interjects. He points up with a finger when he approaches your little group and emerges from the shadows in odd pieces of armor– greaves, cuisses, and faulds but nothing other than light padding on his chest. He yawns and he is bloodspattered. He looks like Uraraka and your panic begins to rise.

“Highness?” You turn back to the scarred prince who will not release you. Kirishima is not nearby, Kaminari and Sero, Uraraka, Fuyumi– “There’s no time, we–”

“We? We don’t have to do anything,” he drops you gently even though he is angry and you shake out your shoulders on instinct. “You need to sit the fuck down for once in your life and trust someone without a stab wound to shovel this shit.”

The hallway is different than you remember, it is colder without your fever, it’s taller. Shinsou yawns again and behind him you can just make out mixed voices in the dark. Your prince is orange amber, molten honey, chip and shoulder. He does not rise but tosses blankets away towards you like he no longer needs comfort. Mina glares over his back.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“It’s almost dawn,” she replies, helpful, not so much like magma. “We escaped down here with a few others but–”

A sudden scraping door overhead forces your group to lurch towards the ground. Shinsou drops to a crouch, hand on sword, and creeps forwards into the dark. Bakugou isn’t far behind, a warning hand outstretched to try and keep you down. “Fear not soggy citizens,” a voice hisses from the source of the sound and Bakugou straightens immediately. “We’re back.”

“Took you long enough,” Shinsou is firm but fond and you and Mina creep behind your prince to peer deeper into the dark. The charred remains of her white gown are stiff with mixed blood. Who’s out there? A few shapes catch light from a sconce past Shinsou’s shoulder and you have never been so unarmed in your life. The prince refuses to let you in front of him.

The light ahead flickers when someone handles it. Prince Natsuo– dusty but alive, thank gods– is illuminated clearly for a moment as he takes a candle from its sconce and a pair of footsteps descend from the kitchen door above. Kaminari and Shinsou stride down the last stairs into their prince’s hidden hallway and beam over a bounty of bread baskets.

More candles are lit by the Takoban prince and the hallway is quickly not so dark and not so lonely. A handful of Takoban lords and ladies lay scattered at the edges of the hall, all deep in sleep. It’s difficult to navigate but you rush past a golden arm and towards the Alderan boys, rejoicefully free of blood, as quickly as you might without stepping on sleeping hands so that your relief doesn’t overflow in loud noises.

“Where were you?”

“Pantry mission.” Kaminari shrugs to hoist his bread basket high enough for you to see, “Food and rest..” he grins Alderan.

You finish, “build blood.”

Sero starts speaking over your shoulder and you turn to catch the briefing for your prince and the Takoban guard, “There were no combatants in the kitchens. A few shuffling feet from the dining hall when we checked under the doors, otherwise,” he hands his basket off to a bloody and impatient Mina, “otherwise, I think they must be patrolling the exits.”

Bakugou grunts and chews at his cheek. It’s not lost on you how pointedly everyone speaks over your head, like you would throw yourself onto the nearest broadsword if given the chance to fight. Though, if you could see the amount of blood in your bandages you might hesitate to speak to you too. The cloth is stiff with it even if you’re no longer bleeding, but the wound that pinned you to the floor, the poison that knocked you from consciousness, no longer grip you with their icy fingers and you thank Shuzenji. You’re sore not a war casualty. Your friends are being hunted upstairs. If it takes the general’s voice to be noticed, so be it.

“Where is the mage?”

Soldier Sero instinctively drops his head to speak to you, “No sign of him since last night.”

“No new fires,” adds Kaminari, “he could be anywhere.”

“Where is the doctor?” 

“You’re awake.” You turn to the new rasp from the floor. Screaming her son’s name once used up all her voice like a long night singing and Queen Rei is scorched at the edges, but alive, in a pile of rumpled skirts. She sits among her sleeping people as Natsuo lights a candle for her to hold, “The doctor is upstairs, I’m afraid.”

“Still with the princess?”

She stiffens but nods, “We can hope.”

If that’s the case, you can also hope that they’re being protected by the two champions you left them with. You speak as you turn, “How,” and Bakugou’s silent eyes are the first you catch, full of something, “are all these people still asleep?”

The group gestures to Shinsou in their own ways– Kaminari cocks his head, Sero points with a shoulder– “We couldn’t know who was friend or foe,” the apprentice clarifies of the civilians the group managed to collect on their way down to the safety of this underbelly. “We still don’t know. It’s not safe to keep them conscious with the queen, not while we have so many injured.”

“How do we proceed?”

The group hums for a moment before Sero clears his throat, “We can’t escape with a group this big,” he looks to the bodies littered and pushed to the sides of the hallway, “we could be caught and with so few fighters, with so many injuries…we’d have to send a scout ahead and Shinsou’s the only one here besides His Highness and Her Majesty who knows this castle well enough to outsmart turncoat guards.”

Your ears perk at the claim and your prince bristles. Takobans are not the only ones here who have memorized cold hallways.

Kaminari interjects, “But without Shinsou here to keep the civilians out cold, if a potential traitor wakes up–”

“Worse– if the scout is caught upstairs with no way to communicate– overwhelmed in numbers– gods forbid the mage– we don’t know what weapons they have up there but we have to assume that it’s, it’s everything.”

No help’s come yet,” Mina adds to Sero’s point and drops to a seat on the cold floor to eat.

“So assume none will,” you exhale and she shrugs in agreement. You nod a few times and review your company. They are battered, all of them, and your breath inflates frost in stubborn puffs. Assume every enemy is dressed in Takoba’s full armory, how many survived the night? How many know about this secret Alderan hallway?

If the royals stay hidden here, Shinsou must stay too. Two exits, one to the kitchens and the other straight out to the beach where any mage worth their magic would keep a close eye. Too open. The only way is up, and more accurately, through. “We just need contact with the outside. Reinforcements.”

“Blasty could get out no problem, but we have to assume guards stationed in the city are working for the mage too.”

“Can we get word to Aldera? Another kingdom nearby?” Kaminari speaks with his hands like he’s grasping at thoughts “Carrier pigeon?”

“Not how those work.” You massage your knuckles with your thumbs, “We need the doctor.”

Mina’s magic hasn’t returned, what about Aizawa? Is Hawks alive? This party isn’t enough without the doctor’s magic, You need Kirishima and Uraraka, and the youngest Todoroki prince and his champion if you could manage it. Where is the useless king?

“If there were no injuries what would the plan be?” You roll your sore shoulder back and then freeze. There’s a weight under your bandages.

“Kill a mage, call for help, go the fuck home,” Mina grumbles with a moutful of bread. She rifles through Sero’s basket to find the softest pieces. Rolls are tossed to conscious members of the party, fresh and sweet, and you catch Bakugou’s eyes once more. His clenched fists give off the faintest popping. The prince you know wouldn’t be so quiet, he wouldn’t let his friends– wouldn’t let anyone– venture into the dangers of the castle without him.

“Highness?” you attempt as Mina pelts him with a pandemain. “Are you injured?”

Mina raises her hand, “I’m injured.”

The question unbalances Bakugou who simmers behind you, but he redirects his anger quickly enough with a gnash of rations. His burn almost glows under his jaw. “Course not, you are.”

“It’s my job to be injured, sir. What are your orders?”

He snaps forward but you are already palming your bandages. It’s still there. He glows in the remnants of his formalwear, stripped down to a bloody undershirt and charred white trousers. He glows in anger, he glows with something you don’t recognize and the prince who hates your company thrills you once more. You will kill the mage and you will take him home. You press your fingers to the shape tucked between your bandages like holding a hand over your heart.

“Then, I request an audience with His Highness Bakugou Katsuki.”

Hell can’t deny you. Bakugou reluctantly marches you down the dark hall and curses Alderan pride. A prince would never refuse his general’s audience.

You’re walking well, your breathing is even. He clenches his jaw instead of picturing the last time you came to his room, half on his back, half in his arms, all saltwater and sweat heartbroken with fever. The braids you keep neat at home fray in Takoba. The remains of your red dress are eaten black with burns and you are more phoenix than dragon ahead of him in this hellish castle.

“In,” he grunts when the red door is finally in front of you, “quietly.”

You turn around to confirm, turn into his chest and look up at him with those horrible eyes he loves to see watching. He rolls his own and pushes you both inside.

The air is iron with blood. You startle the second you enter because Captain Hawks is sprawled sideways on the bed under furs, back exposed to the cold air without life in the fireplace. His wings, wings, are a collection of odd scorched feathers protruding from his spine like boney fingers and a few feathers litter the pillows keeping him turned on his side.

They did their best posting him up after carrying him from the party, but even Bakugou concedes the scene is grim.

Candles are lit at intervals around the room, a few on the mantle and a dozen around the floor on mismatched candlesticks. Furs and tapestries are nailed over windows so that the light can’t be seen from outside. Aldera is three days away, home is only three days away and he can’t even get his people outside of the city gates– outside of the castle.

You take a deep breath and face him, “What’s your–” But he can’t let you speak.

“You’re not fighting. No more, you are completely reckless.”

“Me?” You almost snort. He tries not to let your amusement warm him, not an ember, not a spark. You begin fingering through your bandages again and he instinctively reaches to stop you. “You are not my queen to be doling out orders like that.”

“Stay here.”

“You are my job,” your voice staggers a bit when his hands take up yours to keep them from pulling at your bandages but you stare through surprise with glinting, obsidian eyes, “my purpose.”

Will you stay when this is over?

Bakugou is a cocky brawler on his first day of training with Jeanist and you are lugging weapons to the Keep. He is suffering through class and you are just outside the window, rushing to your lessons still trailing smoke and dragonfire. He is kneading dough before the holiday feast in roaring kitchens and you are armed, halberd and crossbow over your shoulder, collecting a plate the cooks put aside for you.You are supposed to be sleeping. He is supposed to be sleeping. You are both pretending to watch the stars and not each other in the library at midnight.

You stare through him and Bakugou stares at you in the candlelit chill of this makeshift bedroom. “Who mended your cape, Highness?”

He furrows both brows and sighs. He won’t win, “A friend.”

You’re smiling now which he should hate and in one jerk of your arm you tear a strip of bandage free. Dust of blood and the crack of its cast make him wince, but under the red material, soaked pink from your wound, is a small stitched square, a repair date, and a family seal. Yaoyorozu. “The traveling merchants Yaoyorozu don’t only mend capes.”

“And?” Of course they don’t. They’re the richest family on the continent, engineers, the lot of them.

“This seal is on half the tonics in the potions closet and on half more in the pantry. Weapons, clothing, ammunition–”

He stops you talking with a shake of his head and winces again when you rip another bandage free, “Will you stop it!”

“Aldera couldn’t study dragons without the tools that family designed– Takoba would succumb to winter every year without their insulation, without one of their boats in port. They are ubiquitous.” You continue unwrapping yourself, bare skin becoming raw scar until a piece of glass glints under the last of the wrappings. You tug it free before the stiff bandages even fall, and press it into Bakugou’s chest.

The glass is warm with the heat of your heart and you beam so close to him. He studies you. His hand closes over yours.

“Highness, we can fight with this. We can fight the mage and what we have left we’ll bring home. The Yaoyorozus can engineer something to reverse the effects– we have allies– not just them, we aren’t– aren’t–” You are swelling with Alderan fire, a pot boiling over, a hound, a dragon, a phoenix itching to fight. When you smile for bloodlust it is even more beautiful. He doesn’t know he is holding you until you stop speaking.

Bakugou cups both of your cheeks as you offer up the mage’s stolen vial of poison. You are formidable. You are terrifying. He holds you like you might go out candlefast in a breeze.

“We can still–”

“Y/n,” he quiets you with the sound and your smile falls. You are captain of the guard all dressed in red, training squires on spring mornings. He is the king who rises at dawn to watch you. “Thank you.”

The corner of your bodice has been cut away to expose your wound for the doctor and it is raw at its edges so close to your heart. Your collarbone shines with the new and mended skin there. Another scar from a wound that might have killed you, another injury you took in his place. You are reckless but that’s not the problem. Maybe derealization will hit Aldera after you die. Did you outsmart the ghost even as you were being raised from the dead?

“Highness–”

“Don’t.” Bakugou traces the shape of your pulse with his thumbs, “Don’t call me that.”

He’s hardly thought about home since you laughed with him on the catwalks. Since he gave you his hands to do what you’d like with and you told him they make something beautiful. He always thought he might not be able to hold things gently. He knows it’s hard, he knows his hands are meant to break and burst and destroy, but you are a relief. Your hands can kill, they can catch, they fold laundry, they break joints, and they tremble when sparks run through them.

“I don’t–”

“Anything but that, anything. Asshole, coward–” he wants to be upset with you, it is easier when you hate him. It is easier to fight.

“Bakugou.”

Closer. He knows there’s no time but he wants to be closer. You clutch the vial tight in one hand and rest the other over his bloodstained heart. He can feel your heartbeat in the curve of your jaw with his clumsy, heavy fingers. He shakes his head.

“..Katsuki,” you murmur, and he kisses you. You who are just like him.

Your back finds a wall smoothly this time when he dips low to catch your lips with his. There is no desperate grabbing, no stumbling, tripping, every push of his tongue against yours is deep and slow and starving. Your hand cups his chest in both protest and invitation, somehow you are scalding, somehow you are hungrier.

There is a thank you that chases every parting of your lips for everything he owes you. He owes you two lifetimes and a spar. More than that. He presses deeper. Blood flakes from his blond hair when your fingers rake through it and you pull just enough to make him growl.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps in correction. He holds your head in his hands like a gentle promise even as his bones break themselves to be closer.

You manage, “wait,” through the pause and when he jerks back you are no longer the nervous soldier crying in cold hallways. He is nervous, he is trembling, you are something else, something black and infinite. You lower your hand to his cheek and stare almost too close to see him clearly. The hand that kills becomes soft fingers that drift over his temple and push his shaggy hair from his eyes. You watch every part of him. Your eyes and fingers make shapes of his face as he stands above you, as he submits to your touch happily.

What else can he kiss from you? What will you offer him? Breath and tears, he wants more. Memories, exhaustion, boredom, tell him more about yourself, favorites and enemies, show him more tragedy, selfishness, joy. Take him to study dragons, not your soldiers, not your queen.

Your knuckle ghosts his burn and catches the swell of his lip and the wet there. Time be damned, blue mages, civilians, home and hell wait for you. He rumbles somewhere deep in his chest when your thumb presses just slightly harder, your breath catching, at the soft pink flesh and the tongue that darts out to wet you. Bakugou kisses the tip of your finger, again, again, you swipe saliva under your thumb and he kisses you there, again until you can’t take it anymore and lean forward to taste him. He has no such patience. Your prince takes your jaw back up between his fingers and molds his lips to yours like he might give his life to you. You knock hard against the wall and push against him with just as much force so that he must knock you back again to keep you where he needs you.

More of this, more of your greed, more of your desperation stolen in gasps, more of your body fitting perfectly into his hands. You pull at the neck of his undershirt, nails catching flesh. He’ll praise you. He’ll watch you. He only wanted to kiss you. He doesn’t know what it is to want, to be close to someone he needs to keep.

He can’t push any closer– chest to yours, legs between– you inhale sharply when he rolls too deep and he wants to apologize again but you arch your hips higher on instinct. It almost tips his head back. He thinks he says your name. You press warm and shaky against the thigh that pins you to the door while your lips keep him close, bobbing between sloppy presses and a tongue kneading wet against his. The friction of your hips stutters the yawning starving kisses. Where does he hold you? Sweat collects between his knuckles, the excitement soaks through him, you’re alive you’re alive, he grasps you under your thighs and up into his arms.

The pressure is worse here, you are a fire against the rawest parts of him. He catches your throat with his teeth in your surprise above him and lays as many kisses up your pulse as you will let him before cupping his stinging jaw back up where you want it.

He wants to dance with you. You nip where he offers himself, tongue and lip and neck, because your thrill never left you. He wants to fight, he wants to blow out all the candles and make magic for you in the dark. Bare, his shoulders beg you to find hold there, to grasp and scratch, draw blood, breathe fire, don’t let go of him. The swell of your thighs is unbearable in his palms. Your tattered dress parts for him– your damp flesh vibrates with his magic and he wants to sink so deeply inside of you– it is the only thing can could heal this ache, the one thing to make it worse. He wants to hear just one noise. Who taught you not to make a sound? Why can’t he stay quiet?

“Highness,” you breathe. He will break you of that habit, “Highness, I–”

He grunts the low sound of a question and pulls wet away from your kiss in strings of desperation. He wasn’t– he isn’t thinking. Bakugou loses half his halfgone composure when you stare into him with huge, burning eyes and bring an embarrassed palm up to your lips. His ears catch fire. Immediately he knows both of his cheeks and half of his chest are lost to flush. A chill through the air makes you shiver in his arms, back to the door, and he shudders, his own eyes widening at the crease of your brows and the sound you bite back.

“Your shoulder.” He blinks a thousand more times than necessary, “you–you’re– injury.” He almost drops you, almost falls over. Bakugou lets you to your feet– your braids catch on the wooden door above your startled bonfire eyes and it is too much the picture of you, laid out under him in half-torn clothes, overheating, breathless– inside, let me have you, hips grinding through this heat until–

“Highness,” a different voice drawls from the dark. It kills the thought and the silence of the room so suddenly both of Bakugou’s palms ignite in plumes of violet on either side of you. “Please,” Hawks groans, suffocating, into the Alderan pillows propping him up on the bed, “don’t fuck in here.”

“You’re awake!” You gasp because there’s nothing else to say.

“Not on purpose.”

Your prince cannot form a thought. He’s never had– never wanted the things he wants from you. He’s never been distracted from a fight. You begin patting yourself down, searching for a place to tuck the vial, settling the layers of your dress, pushing your hair back where you like it to lay, clearing your throat, catching your breath.

“Did I hear right?” Hawks grumbles again and the prince prepares to escape the end of the sentence, but both captains continue, “you need a Takoban scout?”

“You’re hardly fit enough for that.” Your tone is all disbelief but excitement shows through your embarrassment and he hates how readily you offer up all those sanguinary thoughts. Bakugou shakes his hair down from where you pushed it. He wipes his face with the back of a fist and sucks his teeth.

You will dive into the castle, you will cut down soldiers and dancers, and you will be killed by the mage before he can get you home all because you made a promise to a queen who is not here. He dreaded this. He should have taken Sero as his second. Kaminari would have done, why didn’t he just leave you?

“Can you walk?”

“I sure can’t fly.”

Bakugou bursts, all blush and bitten lips, “Neither of you are fit for reconnaissance and both of you will heel. We don’t have time to limp through the castle.”

You snap around, bright eyes, teeth shining, possessive and kiss swollen and wild. You turn to fight and then there is a crash. You are between your prince and the thrown open door faster than that injury should have let you.

He has half a mind to toss you over his shoulder when a blast of air so frozen it takes form, shatters through both of you in the doorway. You’re quick to bear through it and without waiting to cover Hawks’s hiding place you’re both down the dark hallway, longing, starvation, wet and warmth left behind you. The damp of the hall freezes over completely underfoot.

“Enemy?” You bark, death to stealth.

“The queen!”

The dim light of your meeting place is more pathetic than before, now that candles are dashed and sconces are punctured in awkward icy stalagmites. Mina and Kaminari are picking themselves up off the floor as their captain and prince race forward. Sero has Natsuo under the arm, “Shinsou.”

He throws his gaze over your shoulder to the wall in horror and you turn to follow it, past shining cobblestones, over clouds of breath to the Takoban guard, pinned half up the wall in a crashing wave of ice. Most of both legs and half his hip are trapped in the tide, leaving enough of his torso free to breathe easy. “She’s,” he grunts, thrashing against his restraints, “she’s escaped.”

Bakugou should hate the look on your face but he knows he looks much the same. Thrill makes you glow like he hasn’t seen in a long, long time.

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[ultimateissuessimp]

Heated rivalry

One shot

Word count: 1,823

Warnings: NSFW (close your eyes kids), blow job, cum eating, anal sex, unprotected (don't be silly, wrap your willy), creampie, hate/angry sex, rough sex, Y/N is a considerate consent king, soft after care

Y/N and Killian Jones always went head to head, there was not a one peaceful day whenever they saw each other that they didn't compete with each other. I ven back in the Enchanted Forest. Y/N was a very well known thief and sometimes his roads crossed with the famous and feared pirate. It always just so happened that they ended up at the same place and at the same time, with the same goal in mind.

-Could you get out of my way, pirate? - Y/N said annoyed at the man's presence, ready to throw a dagger at him that he kept in his holster if he needed to. Once again they met at a stealing hotspot, filled with disgustingly rich people that were such an easy target. They had so much money that surely a few, or rather a good handful, of stolen goods won't hurt heir pockets.

-You're the one that's in my way. We seriously need to stop meeting like this or I'm going to start thinking that you're purposely seeking me out, because you fancy me - Killian said with a smug, amused smirk, yet his eyes spoke of irritation. He truly wondered how it was possible that they time after time met in places like this. He travelled a great deal and amount of time, sometimes just popping in for supplies and to enrich himself, so how was it possible for them to often cross each other's paths?

-You wish, Hook. I would rather gauge my eyes out than ever even think about fancying you - Y/N snarled at the man, giving him the stink eye. He dared even make an insinuation like that? He'll show him how much he actually despised his guts.

-My gods, learn how to take a joke, thief - Hook rolled his eyes at Y/N word's, overly annoyed at his behaviour. This man had a serious stick up his ass that he needed to deal with.

-You're a joke. Oh, wait, no… Joke's are meant to be funny, you're more… Pathetic - Y/N grunted out, clearly done with their interaction, ready to walk away and simply do what he came here to do, before he was pushed against the wall of the alley they were in. He groaned out as his back hit the bricks, a wave of pain going through his spine.

-I dare you to say that again - Killian growled out underneath his breath, his face incredibly close to Y/N's, making their noses touch with slight movement.

-You're pathetic - the thief hissed out through his teeth, nose scrunching and eyes filling with anger at the pirate captain's actions. Oh how he hated this man with passion.

Yes, hated him… Then why the hell was he now with the same bursts of passion, while another kind of one, tearing that leather coat off of the man? Lips locked in an aggressive kiss as they explored each other's bodies in a room in some small tavern that was the closest. It almost seemed like a way to assert dominance and show who was better. A better thief, a better leader, a better… Lover.

-I'll make sure you don't forget this night - Killian murmured into the kiss before pushing Y/N onto the bed and getting on top of him, his lips traveling to his neck and sucking in bruises on the skin there, a way of marking him up, almost possessively.

-I already know you won't be forgetting it anytime, since I'm already deep rooted in your mind - Y/N groaned out, letting out a huff of breath at one harder suck on his neck. His hands hastily reaching out to take Killian's shirt off, throwing it somewhere into the room after succeeding.

-You talk too much - the pirate said, going up with his lips again to press them against Y/N's in a way of shutting him up on his own. His hooked travelling across the thief's chest, quickly ripping his shirt in the middle and then taking it away with his right one, doing the same that Y/N did with his shirt, landing it somewhere on the floor amidts the rest of their clothes. He didn't even know when they got rid off their pants, but he wasn't about to complain unlike Y/N about his ripped shirt.

-You'll pay for that fucking shirt - he growled out into Killian's lips before swiftly changing their positions. He was hovering over the pirate, finally having the upper hand and ability to create marks of his own across Killian's neck and chest, going south for the treasure. He took of the man's briefs in one quick motion and started kissing his thighs and pelvis, just not where the pirate might have wanted him to.

-Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you going to get to it or will I have to-… Oh bloody hell… - Killian couldn't even end his sentence properly before a deep moan broke out of his lips when Y/N finally put his lips on his cock and took all of it at once into his mouth, going straight to the base. His hand quickly shot to his head, catching onto it and keeping it there just to make sure that the thief wouldn't just leave it quickly.

Y/N's eyes kept watching Killian's reactions like a hawk, observing each momevent of his chest, each twitch of his face and the many emotions hidden somewhere in that sea of eyes. Maybe if he didn't hate him this much he would actually appreciate the nice shade of blue they were. At least that's what he tried to keep telling himself, but the more he looked into them while moving his mouth up and down, the more lost in them he got.

It didn't take long for Hook to be reaching his first climax and Y/N decided to not be mean for now and let him reach his climax, swallowing everything greedily before pulling his mouth off of Killian's dick with a loud pop. The pirate was short of breath the moment his mind came back to normal, well, slightly normal. He still felt woozy and at the brink of losing it again when he watched Y/N's adam's apple bop as he swallowed.

-Fuck… - he muttered out before springing up and pressing his lips back to the thief's, able to taste his own spent on his tongue as they fought for dominance once more. Yes, he definitely was losing his mind. How else could he explain that weird feeling steering deep inside him as they kissed? He crawled onto his lap, immediately grinding into his own hard on, still hidden beneath the piece of cloth that was restricting it. He freed him quickly and rose up to sink onto Y/N's cock before he got stopped momentarily.

-How-wow, slow down, pirate. No preparation? No matter how much I'd love to rearrange your guts right now, I still have manners and don't want to mess you up in the wrong way. The only thing you should feel right now is pleasure - Y/N said, keeping his hands beneath Killian's thighs to stop him from moving, speaking into his ear breathily.

-Oh shut up, I'm not some weak bastard that you might have fucked in the past, I can take it - Killian groaned out in annoyance at being stopped, frustrated that he wasn't allowed to take what he desperately wanted at that moment.

-Are you sure? Remember that we can stop whenever you want to. I don't want you to feel what you wouldn't want- Y/N asked, making sure that that was exactly what Killian wanted and not something that he barely could think of due to the post orgasmic state.

-If you don't want me to feel what I wouldn't stop than stop making me feel this fucking way, you confuse me - Killian groaned out before finally getting an upper hand and sinking down onto Y/N's cock, taking it all at once and immediately letting out a loud moan, head falling forward onto the thief's shoulder.

-What are you talking abo-… Oh gods - Y/N started, not understanding what the man meant before he got interrupted by a moan of his own, the same way Killian did so minutes ago when he swallowed him whole in his mouth. The way the pirate squeezed him tightly as he bottomed out made him see stars. Or was it just the lights of the street lamps reflecting in Killian's eyes as he started into them with his own, half lidded in pleasure ones? He wasn't sure and he didn't care at the moment. What he cared for was the feeling of the man's heat and tightness in his dick.

The pirate captain didn't waste time despite the slight pain he felt and started to ride Y/N as if his life depended on it and maybe it did. Moans filled the room as they got lost in pleasure, mouth moving against one another in the same tandem their bodies did. Y/N's hands travelled all across Killian's back, not knowing where to hold on before he settled on one arm wrapping around his middle and helping him grind and move up and down his member while the other hand wrapped around his hair. His lips travelling to his neck to suck even more hickeys onto it, leaving Killian's mouth to let out the most pornohraphic of moans Y/N has ever heard.

They were both oh so close, chasing their orgasms as Y/N kept slamming his hips into the pirate's ass, hitting his prostate with each movement, getting the moan to sing for him so beautifully. He was getting so lost in him, the same way Killian was getting lost in Y/N, not wanting to stop or let go. Finally they reached their breaking point, both men letting out sinful noises out of their mouths as they came, Y/N filling him up with unholy amounts of spent as Killian's cum hit both of their stomachs, trickling down them slowly. You won't see any of this in the Bible, that's for sure.

They panted heavily as they rested against each other, arms wrapped tightly around one another as they say there, trying to regain their composures and failing miserably. Finally Y/N pulled out of Killian, making the man groan at the loss that quickly changed into a yelp of surprise at being lifted up and carried to the joined with the room bathroom. A quick bath won't hurt. Maybe the damn thief wasn't so bad after all? How could he be when he held him oh so gently in the warm water filled bath? No matter how much Killian tried to deny Y/N's previous words, he truly was deeply rooted in his mind and he made it his mission to have him. He had to have him.

[alpineshift]

the latest seal post is making me think about selkie!nico

how’s he doing? i’m still thinking about him (and jack) (and the sweater #13)

selkie nico my belovedddd every day is a bold and beautiful day for him! (and jack!)

(nat geo narrator voice)

The first challenge of the day is waking up, especially on an off day, which is usually when Nico is the one who's conscious at the crack of dawn. First order of business, smile at the sight of Jack conked out on the other side of the bed and drooling into his coat, then gets up and goes to the fresh seafood market for his choice of raw fish.

Next, spend a good hour or two chatting up the local fish farmers and familiar selkie faces at the docks (and try really hard not to drool over the fresh king salmon). Carry home his choice 'catches', run into Jack as he's blearily stumbling out into the kitchen, and give his bf a kiss on the nose. Pretend like he doesn't see Jack's thousand-yard stare as Nico just happily loads his raw fish into the bottom shelf of the fridge and calls it day.

It's important for a seal to get their daily bout of exercise in. Today's a nice day, so head over to the rec centre where Jack can do his hot girl stretches and Nico can slip his coat on before tipping into the saltwater pool, zipping around under water until he misses Jack (takes about fifteen minutes or less).

Poke head out and splash flippers and make general seal noises in the direction of the athletic area until his husband finally notices and finally comes over. Demand approximately fifty nose boops. Fling that tiny devils red fish floaty across the pool and destroy it fifty times (it deserves it). Swim up to Jack and go 🥺🥺🥺 until his husband goes oh my god stop I have your snacks right here will you stop acting like Ive been starving you for days. Eat all the snacks. Swim until tired. Home time.

Get back home and immediately devour several fish over the kitchen sink bc he's so hungry while Jack watches on with a thousand-yard stare. Get a scrub daddy and industrial-strength cleaning solution handed to him after he's done. Spend twenty minutes scrubbing the sink until Jack is satisfied. Cook a human meal together.

Midday: it's nap time. Toss the fluffy coat over a pile of throw pillows and nap with Jack lying on his chest for upwards to three hours. Cuddle his snoozing bf when he wakes up. Cuddle some more on the couch while coaxing more nose kisses out of Jack.

They've got standing dinner plans with some of the boys tonight (Mexican food, because it's two-dollar tacos and bottomless pitcher night and they intend to make the most of it.) Shower first, bc Jack says he stinks like the pool. Loot through his bf's closet until he finds an oversized Michigan sweater that smells like Jack's cologne. Go back into the den and realize Jack's already dressed to go--perfect white sneakers, backwards baseball cap, wash jeans, and a familiar number 13 devils sweater. Proceed to sweep Jack off his feet and make out against the kitchen counter until they're going to be fifteen minutes late.

Finally leave the condo, hand in hand, laughing at each other as they walk onto the street. (Nico says he wants fish tacos. Jack will get anything but.)

[newkatzkafe2023]

@lara-legomonkiekid

What if Y/N was like pepe la pew she is very romantic, she always pounced on him and kissed him a bunch of times while giving him a bunch of mushy lovely knit names.

It stinks to be single😫😫😫😫

(Lmk Wukong) Heart eyes heart eyes for days. This man was just minding his own business until you got bombarded by a very affectionate and cute demon girl. He was being called things like my cute little peach. My sweet ray of sunshine, my adorable little monkey? Such a handsome monkey and how cute he is and With how hard and how much is blushing he feels he's gonna pass out. Oh no you're giving him kisses he's not going to survive this.

(Mk Reborn Wukong) His face is so red with fury and embarrassment. He can't do anything or be anywhere alone. Because now you're over here sticking to him like my gum got stuck at his fur. At first he thought you were looking for a fight. What with all the nicknames and the lovely w language? You were talking to him and that unfortunately isn't the case. You always tell him that your lover not a fighter. And that you simply want to grant him some much needed attention in love. You once said he was an adorable little monkey Which caused him to blush so hard steam came off his face. He will let you ramble on and on about how you'll be such a loving wife to him and that you will take care of him for as long as you guys love which is forever because of the and immortality. Eventually, over the years he learns to tolerate you when you're antics and text and don't tell anyone but he loves you too.

(NR Wukong) Oh man you picked a wrong one. Well in your case the right one but let me explain. This guy would break With Any kind of affection you give him A kiss? A hug a bunch of nicknames. You give them the fact that even though he would probably run away from you. You were just gonna hop, skip and jump towards him in such a teasing nothing manner. And by the end of all that, you're gonna find yourself Running Away from him. Because you may have over did it with the kisses and affection.

(HIB Wukong) The man he can deal with you and whatever to help. This is right now but he is forced to. First of all, he's blushing and angry. Because you said that he was such a handsome monkey and The most adorable demon you've ever seen. P has to think you're mocking him. Because when people see his face they usually stay to hell away. But no, the second you see him. You ran towards him pounced on him Adam attacked and smothered him with so much affection. He had to think this was a joke. What no you were softly calling him all these nicknames like peaches, my Sunspot, My wonderful warrior and the second you also called him your king. Blushy and teary but only you've got to see it.

(Netflix Wukong) Hell no he ain't gonna survive you and your love. I mean, he knows he's great and all. But he's never experienced anything like this before. There's a demon girl who was very passionate and loving towards him. And that excites and terrorizes him a little and not to mention. You would just come out and nowhere with that. Sometimes he has to go into hiding the second. He heard oh chestnut my heart is sizzling for you i'm coming. Boy had to bolt out there Because you were shouting that from across the village and hopping around just looking for him. But between you and me I think he likes the chase that you chase some down just so you can love on him. The dude could really use it

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[fxvcsd]

Little Bit of Lovin’ You

Wc: 936

Synopsis: Where you and the astral express family nearly die after Caelus’ daily dumpster dive.

XTRA: lots n lots n lots nd lotsss of crack! Shit writing bcs i honestly js wrote this on a whim, pt. 2 which is guaranteed will have better writing but will be published in like a few days or something. “Lalala” Caelus, “Okokok” reader. GN! Reader

warnings: emetophobia(ish?), silly dorky goofy nicknames, ooc characters (NOT RLLY), mentions of himeko getting a lil drunkity wunkity

“HE QUITTT, babe! He literally quit being the Trash King! Like, full on smashed his crown to the floor and ran out of the castle, Elsa style!” 

You could barely hold back another groan as Caelus’ stinky body pressed against your own as you made your ways back to the Astral Express. For hours on end, Caelus complained to you about his newfound ‘universal enemy.’ You plugged your nose and held back a gag, the stench of rotten food and other kinds of trash piled up in Caelus’ hair; every crevice and fold in his clothes. 

The minute the two of you stepped foot into the Astral Express, Dan Heng had a clothing pin squeezing his nostrils shut with a fan fluttering the smelly wind out the door. March had a gas mask on, taking pictures of you suffering (to which you’d beat her ass for later on), Himeko backing up with a giggle, and Welt just…being Welt. He covered Pom-Pom’s sensitive nose as the wind Dan Heng blew their way almost made the poor conductor pass out. 

The doors shut with a loud echo. You shoved Caelus off of you and went to the nearest trash can (how ironic!) to barf up the contents you ate earlier that morning; your boyfriend stood by the door like a confused puppy. He tilted his head to the side, jutting his lip out into a pout. He didn’t know what he did wrong. 

As they say, you can’t smell what you carry. 

You take heavy breaths as March cackled, patting your back. The others looked away to respect your privacy, but they couldn’t help but let little giggles slip past their lips. You would let Welt deal with the trash can later… he wouldn’t mind a little cleaning up after his favorite child, after all. 

Probably. 

Caelus tried to walk to your side, but with the help of Dan Heng — who reluctantly stopped waving his fan around and pushed Caelus away with the back end of his polearm, stopped him in his tracks. 

“You stink,” he muttered. Caelus froze, and with a hurt look, his head snapped to you for confirmation. The way you were plugging your nose with your cheeks puffed out, a green tint to your skin told him all he needed to know. Dan Heng nodded sympathetically, patting his shoulder before taking a large step back. 

“Babe…” 

“Nope. Bye.” 

You ran off into the other car, trying to avoid your stinky boyfriend who ran after you. You let out shrieks of horror as you looked over your shoulder, seeing dust lift from the ground as he caught up to you in what seemed like such little time. Caelus had such long legs and amazing stamina — it wasn’t fair! Not at all! 

“Come back, baby! Give your fav boy a kith!” 

“NONONONONO-”

—————

He caught up to you in the end, trapping you between him and the couch. You were so lucky that the smell wore off a bit and wasn’t as potent as before. If it was, you were sure you would’ve died beneath him. You loved Caelus with all your heart, but when he would make the ship go off course and travel back to Jarilo-VI to go dumpster diving, you would rather have Blade stab his shattered sword through your left—

Anyway…

“Baby…” Caelus dragged out a whine, his lips pressed against the crook of your neck. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you were in a daze, scrolling away at random news articles on your phone. You let out a hum, kissing his temple.

“Do I really smell that bad?” 

“PFF-”

The whole train burst out into fits of laughter. March, once again, choked on her spit and ran around the car as she hit anyone she could, repeating what Caelus asked with stutters and heavy wheezes. Dan Heng chuckled before going straight-faced again; Welt pulled a classic old man wheeze, and Pom-Pom giggled; Himeko jolted forward, slapping her hand against the table (if you couldn’t tell, she was quite tipsy). 

“Baby, don’t tell me you’re serious…” You respond, cupping Caelus’ cheeks. You can see the way his eyes glazed over a bit, his cheeks puffed out with pink, slightly chapped lips, pouting. You could never resist that face, for it was the one he gave you when he asked you out for the first time. And again, and again, and again until you finally accepted. 

The human-raccoon nodded, a small whine leaving his lips. Your eyes softened, pulling him closer as you gently rubbed the tip of your nose against his. “You smell horrible, Caelussy. But I still love you.” 

“NOOoOOOo,1 I don’t! I smell-” He paused, grabbing a fistfull of his jacket and forced it to his nose, taking a long whiff. He was fine at first.

Until he almost barfed on you. 

“GET OFF????” You shrieked, pushing him away and running to the opposite end of the room in .2 seconds, hiding behind Welt who protected both you and Pom-Pom from the influx of sludge that was about to surge out of Caelus’ mouth. 

You paused. The room was silent, and so were the stars. You waited…and waited…and waited. 

No gagging. 

No sniffling.

No nothing. 

Caelus only stood there…menacingly. He was laughing. Hands clutching his sides like he was the funniest person in the world — slumped over like the hunchback from that Disney movie, giggles rolling off his tongue like the Mad Hatter. You stepped away from Welt silently, a shadow cast over your eyes.

You dragged a breath: in… and out. 

“I gagged all of you! AHAHAAHA-”

…

Nobody wanted to talk about what happened to Caelus after that. Dan Heng decided to sort it in the files of… ‘The Unspoken.’ 

tags: @maitadori , whoever else wants 2 be tagged !!

[lucerothings1]

Nick Hargrove sweat kink with aftercare at the end

Sweaty daddy 🥵

Nick Hargrove x male reader smut

Warnings: sweat kink, gay sex, cowboy position, oral, body praising, daddy kink

Summary: your boyfriend Nick comes back from a run early in the morning when he walks in through the door he is met with his horny boyfriend.



“Hey baby I’m back home” “Ah thank god your here now” you said to your boyfriend Nick who was coming inside the house from his morning walk.

“Hey what’s u-” you had shut him up by pushing your lips on to his as you started to make out with him. “I’m horny and I need you” you said separating from his lips and pulling him up the stairs to your guys bedroom as you pushed him on to the king bed.

“Mm baby as much as I love this I need to shower I stink can we do it in the shower” “ no we can’t plus I like it when your sweaty daddy” you said teasingly to him and as of a switch in him had turned he grabbed a hold of your hips that where grinding on him.

As you stopped kissing him you started to suck his skin on his neck it tasting salty had turned you on even more as you ripped his shirt off and threw it to the grown as you started to kiss down his Adam’s apple and collar bone as he put his arms in the back of his head leaving his pits on full display for you to go crazy for as you smashed your face to them.

As you started to smell the stench of his sweat and tasting them you felt as if in heaven including feeling his hard on under his shorts and through sitting on his lap. You soon started with his next pit making love to it as you where done you started to kiss down his abs still tasting his sweat every single lick and kiss you would put on his perfect and chiseled body.

As you went down on your knees and starting to strip him of his shorts and underwear in one go and removing his shoes as you continued to lick his v line now and now having your nose stuffed in his pubic hair and sucking on it and as it smelled musty because of his sweat.

You soon started to lick down his heavy balls and 12 inches of harden length to clean him of his sweat as you stated to suck him off to causing him to moan “ Oh fuck yeah suck daddy’s big cock my little cock slut” he moaned out as sounds of you gagging on his long length down you throat where being heard.

As you soon stoped and licked down his legs and feet as you got up again and stripped yourself of your clothes and sat on his lap. “Come on daddy give me this big dick” you said to Nick as you put your arms on his chest as you watched him spit on his hand and start to lube up your hole and his cock as he started to go into your walls.

“Oh fuck baby your hole was made to take my dick” he said to you as you sinked on top of his foot long cock as he put his arms back behind his head as you rode him and arched down to kiss him.

“MM-AH OH FUCK DADDY I GONNA CUMMM!!”you yelled exploring all over Nick’s torso. “AH-UM YEAH FUCK TAKE DADDY’S CUM!!” He yelled cumming inside you as you rode out your high for awhile as you collapsed on top of him and you both began to dreary heavy as he slipped out of you with his cock covered in cum.

“We should you this more often I liked it a lot” Nick said to your stroking your back with one hand and the other in your hair. “Okay give me a minute he said getting up and picking up a towel to clean you up as he passed it by your leaking hole and your chest since your cum had now been on yours too.

“Come on let’s go shower” he said as he picked you up bridal style and took you to the bathtub to clean you up after changing you in some clothes and going to lay you down in bed for the rest of the day.

[vacantgodling]

worthless war

You never learn his name.

Your thoughts have already devolved into the most basic of actions to sustain you along. Eat. Sleep. Forward. Retreat. Swing. Parry. Kill.

There is a reason generals do not wear helmets. Their matted, blood soaked hair used to be windswept and glorious. They bark orders and their pawns follow; the matted grass of stinking, rotting corpses, the board of a most convoluted game of chess. In the beginning, how foolish your company thought, should you make it behind enemy lines that you would become kings. It didn’t take long to realize it didn’t work that way. That eyes cast up to the heavens stayed that way, glassy and unseeing in their swift death.

Your eyes weren’t adept at seeing anymore. Your helmet made the world dark and despairing, a fitful mirror to the fruitlessness of this Worthless War. It was a war of pride, not a war of glory. By the time you entered the fray, any semblance of morality had long fled; back to the homeland where praises were sung of a warrior’s valor and the duty of the sword. There was no honor in this place.

Except.

You met him when a stab to the side, under the chink of your chain mail made you kneel. In the centre of the battlefield, you knelt there, statuesque and unseeing. Was it your time to die? Maybe. You were so tired. This war has taken everything from you. You could still see the face of your dear sweet Lucasta*, rosy faced and bright, cheerful and kind. You had not kissed for she was chaste, but you held her hands tender as a newborn babe and bid her farewell.

I will return a hero! You said—what a fool you had been! Young and suckling like a calf to a teat; you knew not what awaited you, young lamb to the slaughter. You knew not of how this war would betray you.

But you felt an arm raise you up.

No words were spoken, only the gleam of his sword in his hand in the sunlight. His helmet was impasse, but his arm that held you felt like warmth, felt like summer, felt like the joy of a child. You leant heavily into him, and he supported you, and took you far away from the battlefield.

It was the first thought you’d had since your mind fell away some time ago. Where are we going? You could ask. Are we advancing? Retreating? How else would you know your place in line? Are you God? If perhaps, you were religious. You weren’t. But maybe you were—if only for the way he sat you squarely down on a rock in some remote and desolate field in some forgotten daydream. Even if the war raged, the clashes of swords and armor not too far off on the horizon, it was a muted murmur this far away. The war but a distant night terror. Your body felt lighter than air, your head clear yet clouded, perhaps it was the dizziness from blood loss.

He didn’t speak, but his hands were verbose. He left your helmet fast to your skull, but pulled you out of your armor, piece by piece. What an intimate ritual—you oft used to think of undressing Lucasta when the two of you were finally wed should you make it back from this war. From her corset and over skirts, to her chemise, her stockings; to unearth what bounty lay beneath cotton coverings, just the same as he unlatched your breastplate. Cool hands spread across your collar and chest, then came to the side just underneath your arm where blood, thick and viscous, stuck like molasses to your skin.

Where he retrieved water when rations were low, you didn’t know. For so long you have just been some spectral floating thing; only manifesting as a sword for your general to wield. But now you felt horribly human; your mouth dry with thirst and caked with dirt and grime and the sins of taking life after life. Heaven knew no prayers would wash you clean, but he did. He washed your wound and dressed it as best he could. He ripped pieces and pieces of his own spare shirt and wrapped them round and round your body, pressing until the blood stopped. Until the blood rushed from your head south at the novelty of another’s touch, never mind the touch was a man. This was the touch of your savior; your holiness, your shining grace given from Lucasta’s Lord above.

“W…” You managed to croak, and he stopped his ministrations. If you had hydration enough for tears, perhaps you would’ve shed them. Don’t stop. You wanted to say. Those glorious touches that reminded you that you were alive and a soul and part of this world. “Why…” Your voice was no louder than a field mouse.

Behind his helmet, he didn’t say a thing. Not a grunt, not a hum, not a word. He only kept dressing your wound. Round and round he twirled those makeshift bandages, and you imagined Lucasta on your long awaited wedding day, twirling in your arms as the blushing bride she ought to be. But here, and bare, and carnal, you felt you ought to be the bride. Why shouldn’t you receive such tenderness of a strong hand to your lips or touch to your brow? Why shouldn’t you linger in this comforting daydream where you were just a man, and the knight dressing you was another, and in the hay of this little barn of innocence you sullied it with passions that Lucasta’s God would blush at?

You gripped his hands, hissing as he bade you stand. It was always easier to suit standing. When he returned the chinks of your breastplate and tightened it fast, it was every deceleration of love you could ever hear. It was a proposal, a wedding, devotion divine. You took his hand. He gave you your sword. He led you back to the battlefield. Your thoughts returned lifeless, but when he took his place next to you in formation, your mind bloomed with flowers; roses and daffodils and forget-me-nots; an endless springtime where he knew your scars and perhaps, you knew his.

And as all evils do, the Worthless War drew to a close.

There was no grand finale. No heroes of lore or legend were born out of this war. You stood at the foothills of your hometown, with nothing but a small ration, and a few bits of coins for the trouble of it all.

You returned to Lucasta. She knew the light in your eyes dimmed. She spoke to you of the wedding, of babies, of summertime—but your life was paused; ever stuck and transfixed at that moment he took you aside to patch your wound. Suspended in that one shred of humanity that you felt in that moment, and the lingering warmth that you felt after, for the days and weeks until the war came to an end. He never spoke, but he was always by your side, and you fastly to his.

Your head was bare, but your soul never took off its helmet. At night, you lay awake with Lucasta’s head pressed delicately to your chest, dreaming of the metallic hiss of his breath in and out as he undressed your soul.

some footnotes:

* = the name Lucasta i lifted from the 17th century poet Richard Lovelace as the meaning is “pure light”. in this piece Lucasta serves two roles: as the bride to be the protagonist has waiting back home, but also represents his innocence that the war has taken from him. how even though he’s returned home and has his former life waiting for him how he can never truly regain that innocence.