#he also wears glasses but not all the time

[innerfare]

Mihawk’s Type 

Summary: A list of headcanons describing Mihawk's ideal type

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Would go for someone with a more sophisticated streak, the sort of person who can name what all is in his wine cellar, who knows which drinks go in which glasses, could arrange a society soiree (not that he would ever host such a dreadful thing), wears silk pajamas, etc.. If you can expertly arrange the flowers from his garden, dislike loud, unruly crowds, and are more likely to be overdressed than underdressed, you’re probably his type. 

In that same vein, he likes it when you use his full name. “Dracule Mihawk.” Something about it sounds right falling from your lips. 

Also would want someone intelligent and well-read, the sort of person who will discuss what he reads in the newspaper every morning with him and is content to spend their days in his library, not just browsing but taking stock of what he has and going out to purchase anything he may need. 

With that in mind, wants someone who will assess what he may need more generally, too. Is he lacking in any way? This man’s dream date is you telling him his flaws over a bottle of wine so he can rectify them. Low key a masochist. 

All that being said, he doesn’t like people who are too out of line. He has a weakness for strays, so someone who’s put together on the surface but has a rougher, more wild side would be his absolute weakness. 

He also likes people who are independent, people who can entertain themselves and have their own goals. He wants someone who, upon arriving at his castle, will explore on their own rather than ask him for the grand tour. 

He would want a person who isn’t naive. Someone who knows how the world works, possibly even a bit of a cynic, not someone who is going to sugarcoat things and make excuses for corruption (or listens to the excuses the government gives). 

I see Mihawk with someone who comes from a good family, the sort of person who possibly attended the One Piece equivalent of finishing school. More than likely, a government employee he met some time after he became a Warlord (or possibly even before, meaning they had an illicit affair while he was still a wanted man). Someone who sees through the World Government and finds the corruption disgusting, but is also not a pirate. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[urinarythreatinfection]

Alright since you want requests, how about good ol Sanji figuring out that he likes a guy? Lmao.

Poor Sangni. You know for all the shit people (me too) give him, he kinda turned out really good compared to all the things he went through. Also I ❤️ comments on my fics.

Confusion in My Love

Sanji x male reader. fluff. tw for for internalized homophobia. Contains a medium fishman island spoiler. 1375 words.

It’s known that Sanji has an innate preference towards women, and an innate hate towards men. It’s a fact of life the same way the sky is blue, or it was until you. He acts differently around you, a man. Not how he treats Luffy or Zoro, no, there’s something else. Something that makes him weak towards you, something that makes it so when you make a mistake he doesn’t feel like getting angry or mocking you. Something that’s making him feel different.

“Sanji!” His heart skips a beat when he hears your voice while giving Nami and Robin their beverages. “Can I get one too?” You ask with a smile. Everyone expects him to say no, right about now he’d be too “busy” fawning over the women, after all. Schedule full. However…

“Alright.” …he agrees. Like it was instinct, before he could even realize what he was agreeing to. It causes everyone to go silent except for Luffy, who hadn’t realized what was weird until Usopp whispered it in his ear. Sanji knows it’s weird too, but he’d already said yes to you, and he just can’t bring himself to change his mind. So he retreats instead. To the kitchen, his oasis, to make your drink. Once he’s inside he crouches down and puts his head in his hands. “Why did I say that!?” He yells at himself. This stupid something has only been getting worse. Not being as angry at you to not wanting to get angry at you to complimenting you. Now he’s even making a midday beverage for you like he would with a lady! “Why am I doing this!?” He stands up and starts to make the drink, keeping himself busy will surely help him stop thinking about it, but it fails. It’s only when he’s poured the finished product inside the glass that he spots his reflection, his face with flushed cheeks. He touches them as his heart beats faster, is he sick? That has to be it there’s now way, right? Nonono he loves women he’s a woman lover, men are disgusting creatures that he would never develop romantic love for! However the more he thinks about it the more everything he feared and denied is coming together, making his repressed emotions crash down on him.

“Hey, Sanji?” You walk into the kitchen and find him with his elbows on the counter, head in his hands. “Damn if you really didn’t want to make me the drink you don’t have to force yoursel-” You notice tears dripping on the marble “-are you crying!?” When he spots you they flow from his eyes harder.

“hic..unng…” He puts his face back into his hands, sobbing as his emotions overwhelm him, stronger from all the years of internalized homophobia from misinformation. If he’s gay does that mean he has to crossdress all the time now? He likes his suit though… now he just made himself cry more. He feels like a stupid little kid again. You go up to him, confused but rubbing his back as he lets everything out and tries to imagine all the things he’s going to end up doing now that he’s gay. Cooking with long nails, fighting with dresses, having to do makeup every morning, saying kya…

“Sanji what’s up with you, man? Did having to make a free drink for a guy make you this heartbroken?” Crazy conclusion but he’s almost died from a nosebleed so it isn’t that out of the question.

“I’m gay…” He sniffles. “What do I do?”

��Huh??” You look at him with a confused expression. “You’re crying because you’re gay? Sanji it’s not something to be ashamed of, Luffy isn’t going to kick you off the ship. I’m not even sure he knows or even cares what that means.”

“Maybe, but how am I going to cook with long nails?” He looks at his hands in despair. “And is he going to accept me if I wear dresses and makeup?”

“Do you… want to wear dresses and makeup?” The blonde wipes his eyes when you question him.

“..maybe.” Sanji mumbles then quickly yells after. “I don’t know!”

“I feel like you have a misconception on what being gay is. I don’t know what you’re thinking but you don’t have to do anything to be gay besides being attracted to the same sex.”

“But the ladies…” He still wants to like women, he doesn’t know what that means.

“Sanji there are other options besides gay or straight, you can like both men and women, and you don’t have to do whatever you’re thinking if you don’t want to. You’d be a beautiful crossdresser or non-crossdresser. In fact, you don’t even need to be a crossdresser to wear makeup. I don’t- I- How did you even come to this conclusion.”

“In Kambakka.” He states, that makes sense.

“Oh.” You scratch the back of your neck. “Well I don't think them being gay is the reason they’re that way. Did they not tell you this?” He shakes his head. “Yeah well I guess they wouldn’t have expected for you to be this-” ‘ignorant’ “-uh.. mal-informed. Anyway I mean what I say. You’re still you and you get to be you. How did you end up figuring out you liked men anyway?

“Ugh…” He feels stupid now, getting emotional over nothing as he wipes his eyes. “It’s because I like y-” Sanji stops, immediately sobering up once he realizes his mistake. “yyyyoung men my age.”

“Oh? Did you see someone you liked at the last island?” You’re starting to get curious and his face goes red again as he sputters, blue eyes swimming around for an escape when he remembers the drink he made you. He grabs it and quickly gives it to you.

“Here! I finished it not too long ago, drink it while it’s still fresh.” You grab onto it, accepting he doesn’t want to talk. This must be a vulnerable moment for him.

“Well, okay. Just know whatever you end up being, I still care about you, kay?” You smile at him and he heats up more, his feelings stronger now that he realizes what they are.

“Me too, I.. care about you—too.” He’s struggling, jolting when you rub his back.

“We care about each other then, and thanks for the drink.” You walk out of the kitchen with a wink. Once you’re gone Sanji slowly sinks to his knees, sighing. His hand goes to his chest, feeling his beating heart.

“This…feels so weird..!” He rests his back on a shelf door, pupils into hearts as he gets dizzy. “Love love love..” That repeats in his head. He loves you, adores you, filled with nice feelings the moment you look his way. “

There’s a lot to think about now that he’s realized this but if this light, pleasant feeling he’s getting is because he loves you.. maybe a crush on a guy isn’t so bad.

_____________________

Bonus past memory from Kamabakka:

“GAHH GET AWAY FROM ME! I’M NOT GAY!!” Sanji screams while running from the Okamas. He’d been running the whole day now and eventually manages to lose them, that's what he thinks anyway. They’re actually just hiding to let him rest.

“He keeps calling us gay, we’re Okamas.” One of them says, an idea popping up. “You… don’t think he thinks all queer people are like us, right?”

…

…

“No way~” They all brush it off as another speaks up. “I mean it’s pretty obvious what the difference is, he’s gone traveling he’s must’ve met another queer person.”

“Right right.”

“I’m never going to be like them, I like women. I’m not an Okama.” They hear him say as he catches his breath, making them pause.

“Ah…” They nervously look at eachother

“Well.. he’s going to be here for two years. He should figure it out eventually, right?”

“Yeah, we’ll try and help him too! He’s precious after all.”

Unknown to them, he hadn’t figured it out. In fact, he was so terrified of them that even when they did try giving him pointers he kept blocking it out. But it’s alright, there’s no way he’d do something like think it’s mandatory for gay people to crossdress… probably.

[ddodol]

hot and cold — o.sr

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, bf!taro, fem!reader, pet names, temperature play, kinda nasty, oral (m.), messy, a lot of sensory descriptors. word count⭑.ᐟ 1.3k+

✩🎧⭑.ᐟ [ ice queen — baekhyun ]

“baby, are you sure about this?”

you turned around, the flowy white dress you were wearing fluttered through the air. shotaro was mesmerized, his round cheeks popping up from smiling so hard.

you just finished tying your hair up, the halo sticking up from your hair as you had extra feather-like accessories that you stuck on the sides of your hair to support it. you had small angel wings on your back, peeking through your shoulders as you faced shotaro. “we could’ve been angels together, taro,” you pouted.

shotaro wore a low-neck, stylish black suit, somewhat matching you by wearing fake angel wings as well. shotaro had lensless glasses on, having a drop chain design that just looked amazing on him. now that you had a proper look at him, shotaro might’ve enjoyed this whole lucifer costume he customized on his own— in turn, you found yourself loving it, charmed by the confidence he was exuding.

”you look so beautiful though, y/n,” he tucked in a stray strand of hair that you weren’t able to tie up, chuckling at the adorable look on your face. “we look perfect together, don’t you think?” shotaro wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close and resting his chin on your shoulder as he spun you around to face the mirror.

shotaro was smiling cutely, chuckling when you nodded. “i can call you angel all i want tonight, baby.” you giggled, turning your head to place a quick kiss on his nose.

you hummed, staring at him hungrily. shotaro noticed the way your eyes moved up and down, a familiar smile on your red-stained lips. he chuckles, cupping your face. “want to play a bit before the party starts?” he asked playfully, placing a quick smooch on your neck as he leaned in. you could feel the cold metal frame hitting your skin, sighing softly with your eyes closed.

”go sit on the bed, taro. let me just take this off properly,” you mumbled against his skin, giving him a gentle shove. shotaro tumbled, taking a few steps back until his legs hit the edge of the bed. he also wanted to make it easier for you, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning a few buttons on his blazer.

you struggled with your halter dress that it gave you time to glance around, eyes landing on your iced beverage. you smiled mischievously, fingers leaving the clasp by your nape to make your way towards the nightstand. shotaro watched you curiously, “what’s wrong? need help?” he asked, wrapping his arm around your waist as he kissed your bare back.

you swirled the cup around, shaking the ice inside. you brought the cup to your lips, tilting your head back to take the ice cubes in your mouth. you turned towards shotaro, smiling, before leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. it was a messy kiss, the ice melting down your lips as you and shotaro pushed it around each other’s mouths.

shotaro didn’t seem to mind the mess, smiling against the kiss as he pulled you even closer. when shotaro bit the cube, you pulled back, panting softly as shotaro stayed still with the ice dripping down his plump lips. he licked the corners of the cube, smiling as you watched the ice melt in between his teeth.

”hell must’ve been hot, does it feel nice?” you teased, running your hands down his chest. shotaro smiled fondly at you but his eyes stared at you intensely, making you feel like a prey— his prey.

shotaro’s intense stare made shivers run down your spine, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth and giving it a small bite. you reached out to the cup once again, downing as much ice as you could fill your mouth with. shotaro smiled, shuddering in excitement once he felt your cold breath against his throbbing bulge.

he wished for release, desperately so. the way your hands moved slowly felt like torture, the ice in his mouth almost melting from his hot breaths. he kept chanting your name quietly, eyes glossy from need. you knew you were the only one that could make him feel better, moving hastily to take his pants off.

you didn’t hesitate to take his throbbing length in your cold mouth, making shotaro shudder and groan at the foreign sensation. not once did he think such pain would feel this good, all because it was you doing it to him. you stared up at him, a mixture of the melted ice and his precum dribbling down the corners of your lips.

your mouth was full, brows furrowing from how numb your mouth felt from the cold ice. shotaro shivered, yet his eyes never left your face, watching as you take in every inch of him. he particularly liked it when you had the ice on your tongue as you licked his sensitive tip, letting out shaky breaths.

shotaro hooked his thumb on the corner of your lips, pulling you away from his cock and leaning in. you stuck your tongue out, not minding the mess that ran down your chin as shotaro kissed you. you were in a daze when he pulled away, watching as he picked your cup up and took a mouthful of the remaining ice. he looked back at you, eyes glinting darkly as he leaned in once more.

shotaro gripped your chin, pushing in as much ice cubes as he could in your tiny mouth. he smiled in satisfaction at the mess, peppering kisses on your lips to your cheek. “keep going, angel. pleasure me more,” he whispered breathlessly.

you let out a small moan, head starting to spin as you stared into his eyes. you swirled the ice in your mouth, leaning in once again to take the tip of his cock in your cold mouth. shotaro shivered, thighs tensing up at the coldness. you bobbed your head, whimpering at how full your mouth felt, the melted ice dripping down his shaft.

”y/n— you’re so good, so good to me,” shotaro shuddered, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes. you held his cock in your hand, pumping the rest of his length as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock. “fuck, just like that,” he moaned, face contorting beautifully as he threw his head back.

his hands trembled, running his fingers gently through your made-up hair. shotaro’s body tensed up, hips starting to push up against your mouth. you caught on immediately, doubling your efforts and eagerly sucking on his tip. shotaro mewled, sucking on his teeth as he watched you.

”what a pretty sight,” he mumbles, a playful smile on his lips. “let me see the mess you’re making on my cock, angel.” you whimper, pressing your thighs together when you met his eyes. you desperately wanted to feel his cum on your tongue, to make a bigger mess with it, the desire slowly clouding your mind.

“i’m close, y/n. do whatever you want, baby.” your eyes sparkled with excitement, slopping noises filling both your ears. shotaro’s brows furrowed at your relentless movements, trembling as he came in your mouth in no time. he let out a contented moan, eyes not once leaving your face.

shotaro cupped your cheek, pulling your mouth away from his sensitive cock, wincing when he felt the smallest shard of ice graze against his tip. you stuck your tongue out, a mix of his cum and the melted ice dripping from the tip of your tongue. shotaro smiles in amusement, using his thumb to wipe of any liquid that dripped down your chin.

”what do you say we get more ice?” he proposed playfully, making you chuckle. “maybe i can return the favor? show you how much i appreciate my little angel?” shotaro bit his lip, pulling you in to kiss your swollen lips.

once he pulled away, you were in a daze. the makeup you worked hard on was a mess, yet you couldn’t care less. in fact, you wanted him to mess you up even more.

”i’m all yours, taro.”

shotaro smiles sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. ”i know, angel. you’re all mine to have,” his fingers ghosted over your soaked chest, “all mine to play with.”

[thatbadassauthor]

- 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨 <3 -

✡ "𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘔𝘰𝘯 𝘊𝘩𝘦́𝘳." ✡︎

⚠️𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!⚠️

𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐔𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐈𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝.

✧──────✧༺❦༻✧──────✧

You and The Radio Demon are actually from the same timeline, the 1910s-1930s to be exact. You died just a mere year before Alastor, but lived on the other side of the world at the time. You'd think you and Alastor got along as you are from the same timeline, but no no no.. That couldn't be further from the truth. You hate Alastor because in your timeline, men were abusive power hungry beasts. Sure you two grew up in completely different hemispheres, but all men were the same back then. Or at least, in your eyes they were. Which results in you being less then friendly towards The Radio Demon.

But you've never bothered to noticed if maybe he doesn't return that same hate..

-

                             

Currently, you are at the bar with Husk. He is pouring you a cup of alcohol, not too much as you are an Overlord and prefer to not get drunk. Also, you just aren't the heaviest drinker in Hell. You take a sip of your drink before continuing to ramble about how power hungry Alastor is, and normally the cat demon would just let you ramble. Though, he decides to speak up for once.

"𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘺'𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘬𝘪𝘥.." His gruff voice says as he wears a stoic expression, his eyes glued to the glass he's wiping with a race instead of meeting yours eyes. He already braces himself for a reaction, knowing for an Overlord you trust him to feel like you can slightly show your vulnerability more around him. That and, you have had two glasses of alcohol already.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘬." You suddenly exclaim, before calming down at that highly uncalled for response as you place the shot cup down. You take a deep breath and compose your self with practiced ease as Husk simply smirks with an eye roll.

"𝘚𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.." Alastor's static filled voice can be heard as he suddenly appears, but you don't jump at the sudden presence and interruption. You can't decipher whether his tone is mocking, or genuinely upset. You guess it's condescending, though.

He is actually a little fond of you and your fiery, fierce spirit. Also he admires your power as an Overlord. Most Sinners would struggle to get such a title, (him excluded) so he is impressed. He'd never admit it, but he just really wants you to be his friend. You remind him of his dearest Mama, in a way.. Your spirited sass, your charming smile, your playful tendencies. It's like his mother, just sadistic.

But your attention is more on the fact he brought up your ex-husband. Someone not even Husk or Charlie knows.

"𝘐-.. 𝘚𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱." You say before taking a sip from your glass, ignoring the deer demon and his remark. You decide to not dwell on the fact he somehow knows that information, he is always prying every where after all. You could just play it off as if it is just some rumor, but you feel like he'll see through that. As long as you don't show it as a weakness, that Alastor knowing shouldn't be an issue. Husk had raised an eyebrow in curiosity, having not known that information, but deciding it's not his place to question or speak about it. He just silently listens, this conversation being the most interesting thing he's heard at the hotel for some time now.

Alastor had smirked at your small reaction, knowing he'd struck a nerve. He chuckled softly then sat down on the stool beside you, which made you roll your eyes once more. Again, you couldn't tell whether that chuckle was condescending or not.

"𝘕𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨." He chuckles once more, clearly amused at your sassy attitude. He honestly kind of liked your attitude, although it didn't show at all. You, again, roll your eyes at his mockery.

"𝘊𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘵.." Alastor thinks to himself, his smile physical widening.

Husk silently listens in, the feline's ears twitching swiftly as he pays a lot more attention then he expected himself to. He internally smirks, being aware of his boss's secret admiration for you. He is a very perceptive old Sinner, he can see the almost childish, approval-seeking look in The Radio Demon's eyes that he himself clearly isn't aware of. Husk doesn't dare voice it though.

"𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦." You reply simply, sighing before sipping your drink. Placing the cup back down you allow your fingers to trace the rim of the delicate glass. You don't bother to move away from Alastor, regardless of the fact his presence does annoy you.

Alastor chuckled once more and leaned onto the counter, turning his head in your direction and smiling like the ever-smiling cheeky bastard he is. He really did enjoy your feisty attitude, not that he'd admit that directly to you.. Or admit it at all. But, his eyes seemed to light up a little bit when you finally responded to him, even if it was just a sarcastic response.

"𝘈𝘸𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.." He smirked as he spoke.

"𝘈𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦." His smile then softens a little as he adds.

"..𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝙈𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧." He says, and in all honesty, you've accepted the fact you can't tell if he's mocking or being genuine. He clearly does that on purpose.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥." You remark with an eye roll, sipping my drink casually and calmly. Your expression stays stoic as you drink the expensive alcohol.

The Radio Demon raised an eyebrow as you continued to act passive aggressively with him. He knew you disliked him, but he still tried to be a little more... Nice, He supposed. Despite his usual sadism. His Mama raised a gentleman, after all.

"𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨." The Radio Demon teases with a smirk, but there is a glint in his eyes he didn't seem to notice. He is actually quite fond of you, and he wouldn't dare admit it, but looks up to you.. Your confidence, your ability to keep composure, your power..

"𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪." You say coldly as you lean away from the fellow Overlord, rolling your eyes at the deer demon as you finger leisurely toys with the glass on the counter containing your favourite drink.

Alastor actually wasn't an abusive man, a murderer? Yes. A ungentlemanly vile vulgar man? Absolutely not. He never laid his hand on a woman. Ever. But you don't seem to realize that, and for some reason that irritates Alastor admittedly more then it probably should.

He doesn't get why you can't just be nice. He wants you to simply get over your past. Of course he'd never ask though, he wouldn't be caught dead pleading or asking for something. He actually WANTS to get along. Something rare for him. You should be honored, begging for his attention. Not repulsed by it.

The Radio Demon's smirk almost falters a little as you said you didn't like him. He really did want to be somewhat friendly with you, but how could he when you were already being cold from the start? Over his 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 out of everything. He would've at least thought such a spirited woman as you would be repulsed over his cannibalistic or ruthless tendencies, not because he has a dick. (Sorry.)

"𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨." He replies after a moment, still acting indifferent to disgust as usual.

Husk then suddenly tries his damn hardest to not smirk as he cleans a glass silently, and I just stare in curiousity for a second. Alastor's deer ears had bent down in the most adorable manner ever, something so unfitting for a ruthless Overlord such as himself. Husk knows exactly why they do that though, they are one thing The Radio Demon can't control. They show his true emotions no matter how big his ever present smile is..

"𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦." You ramble in a slightly more quieter tone, flashbacks flashing through your mind.

He couldn't really understand why you were being so cold to him in particular.. It was rather obvious he wasn't like the men from your past. At least in 𝘩𝘪𝘴 eyes it was obvious. And besides, you get along with Husker. Why not Alastor?

"𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦." Alastor corrects a little more sternly then he intended to, but you don't pay much mind to that fact.

"𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭? 𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺.." He adds in a slightly frustrated voice in an attempt to hide the disappointment in it.

"𝘔𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘺. 𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘺. 𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 ��𝘧 𝙙𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺." You reply to the Asexual Deer Demon, clearly aware he isn't like those disgusting rapists of our timeline. Yet that somehow doesn't change your mind.

Alastor was not at all surprised that you knew his sexual preferences, but was slightly surprised at the fact it didn't make you any less cold towards him. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't find the power to speak, especially after what you had said. Everything you had said was technically right, but being told that by you stung a little. Surprisingly, he was actually quite sensitive to you. He does try to hide it. Alastor stayed unbothered on the outside, but deep down he was conflicted.

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝘆, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀...

And perhaps for those very reasons, it hurts him everytime you insult him. He can handle Vox's insults, Vaggie's insults, even the KING OF HELL'S insults. Yet 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 are the ones that sting.

Everything you had said was absolutely correct, and he can't exactly come up with a rebuttal. He does indeed like the feeling of dominance, as he does like it when his prey is helpless and trapped, but he doesn't do it in a sexually way at all. But you clearly are aware of that.

Husk almost chuckled, it was very obvious to him that this deer Overlord was not only intimidated by you, but he actually looked up to you in a sense. While Alastor was focusing his gaze on his glass of Whiskey, as he is quite obviously overthinking at the words you had said to him, Husk decided to break the long silence between the Sinners in the room.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘴." The cat-demon reminds as he puts the clean glass down on the counter. His tone showing it's more of a statement then question despite him asking for confirmation.

"𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺." You reply as you look away from your glass and onto him, waiting for him to elaborate why he suddenly joined the conversation and started the conversation with that reminder.

Husk paused for a moment as he observed how The Radio Demon was acting, but then continued speaking as he folded his arms and leaned against the counter in front of him.

-

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘖𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘥, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘠𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮."

Those words snap something in you.

"𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘐 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝙝𝙚 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 difference." You reply immediately and admittedly quite defensively, which makes Alastor perk up a bit.

Husk meanwhile, chuckles lightly at your response, not entirely surprised by the way you spoke. You always were quite feisty, he can see why the Radio Demon has such a soft spot for you, even though you are completely cold towards him.

"𝘖𝘩, 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚.." He smirks, clearly not buying your response at all. It's not often he actually joins in conversations, but it seems your and Alastor's little argument between a man and a woman actually intrigued him..

You roll your eyes at the sarcasm, but do let his words sink in. You've always trusted Husk's words. You trust him, a lot, but as an Overlord you obviously can't show it when you trust someone. You're aware the Husk's perceptive and keen eyes have probably already figured out you have a tendency to always put his words into consideration. He has no intention to use that against you, though.

Besides, Husk wouldn't dare. Alastor would have his head decapitated with a leash. Literally.

Husk knew you rather well, and he (not to your surprise) knew you trusted his words and opinions.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘰 𝘋𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦." He gestures to the Overlord sitting next to you, raising an eyebrow as he awaits your decision.

✧──────✧༺❦༻✧──────✧

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙏𝙒𝙊 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙈𝙊𝙉 𝘼𝙈𝙊𝙐𝙍 <3

[coffeeghoulie]

dumbstruck when you're tender

or Ghostober Day #21: Somnophilia

Much thanks to @kroas-adtam for putting Ghostober together, and much thanks to @forlorn-crows for the discussion and the dialogue <3 hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Dew/Aether

Aether likes to watch Dew dream. And, if his mate is amenable, he likes to make those dreams come true.

Title from Creatures in Heaven by Glass Animals.

Explicit, 3.3k. Contains consensual somnophilia, wet dreams and quintessence use to watch said wet dreams, size kink, praise kink, and dry humping. Also includes mentions of rough sex, voyeurism, and public sex.

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Aether's lived in the same room in the Ministry for so long that he knows exactly how the door creaks, at what angle, and how best to keep it quiet. It comes especially in handy now that he works late shifts at the infirmary. He'd felt his heart pang the first time he saw the dark circles under Dew's pretty cerulean eyes, and told Dew from the beginning not to wait up for him.

Dew'd hated it for a while, spending what little time they had together asleep. But eventually he'd settled. Nothing that waking up in Aether's arms couldn't fix.

But some nights, after Aether sneaks back into his own room, Dew gets to wake in a different way.

Aether pushes his door open slowly, eyes adjusting into the darkness, shoulders relaxing as he sees what's waiting for him. Sprawled out on his stomach like a starfish in his bed, his mate is dressed in one of his band shirts, swimming in the fabric. It comes down past the tops of his thighs, tail twitching and moving the hem.

Dew sleeps peacefully, breathing softly and almost whistling through his nose. His hair's fallen out of the tie, curtaining over his cheek.

Aether creeps closer. The wave of warm, sweet spice hits him, his cock chubbing up in his scrubs the moment it hits the roof of his mouth. Dew's dreaming. Aether can't wait to see where this one takes him.

Dew's tail taps sluggishly against the blankets. The movement makes Aether's shirt ride up, and the next thing Aether knows is that he's so hard so quickly the room spins in the darkness. Dew's scent, all caramel syrupy sweet, just gets stronger. He's not wearing underwear under that shirt. He thinks about getting him onto his back, to see his little cock tent the fabric of his shirt, the wet spot staining the front. But he'd rather not wake him quite yet.

Aether shucks his shirt, tossing it into the hamper in the corner. He rolls his neck, wincing at the way his vertebrae pop. Dew doesn't react to the noise, just snuffles into the pillow he's clinging to. Aether avoids the creaky floorboard as he steps up to their nest, Dew's scent getting stronger and more cloying.

He sits down at the edge of their bed with a soft groan, grateful to be off of his feet. Dew shifts, hand pressing a little closer, searching. Aether freezes, nervous that he's woken him. He waits, watching Dew's breath settle. He's never woken Dew while playing this little game. At least, not until he wants him to. And if all else fails, he has ways to keep him asleep, even if he doesn't want it to come to that quite yet.

In the quiet of their room, Aether can hear the incredibly subtle sounds of the mattress springs squeaking. Dew's hips press down in little bunny humps as he dreams, soft little "uh"s escaping his lips with each breath. Must be dreaming of something real good.

Despite all of the filth starting to cloud his mind, Aether's hit with a wave of fondness as he watches Dew sleep. Even after all these years, he still finds himself just overwhelmed with how lucky he's been that this little fire ghoul found his way into his life and stubbornly refused to leave. He reaches down and brushes a strand of copper hair back from his sharp cheekbone, tucking it behind his ear.

His finger trails up to his temple, and in the dark of the room, Aether can see the spark of quintessence as it jumps from his fingertip to Dew's skin. Aether's eyes flutter shut as Dew's dream becomes visible, projected onto the inside of his eyelids like a film reel.

A nondescript venue, an amalgamation of dozens of backstages. Boots clunking, the indistinct chatter of stagehands and packmates and roadies. A crate that hasn't been moved back yet. Everything a little fuzzy around the edges, a little cliche to say, but it's dreamlike.

Aether doesn't quite startle when he recognizes himself from behind, but it's a close thing. He peers around his own form, and feels all of the blood rush to his cock as he takes it in.

He's got Dew bent over the crate, jodhpurs pulled down just enough to get at his ass. The lip of the crate digs into those sharp hips, the tips of Dew's boots scrabbling at the floor for purchase. They haven't even taken their helmets off, but Aether knows intimately the way Dew's eyes roll back.

"Couldn't stop lookin' at me, huh?" Aether hears himself growl into the side of Dew's helmet. His arms are held taut and pinned behind his back, absolutely no leverage. Dew just has to stay still and take it. His shoulders must ache. So must his hips. His ass.

Dew can't reply, the breath fucked out of his lungs with each of Aether's thrusts into him. Rough, desperate. Brutal.

"Had to make fun of me out there, huh? Act so high and mighty and in charge, bossing me around," Aether rumbles, bent over Dew's body and nearly covering him completely. The toes of Dew's boots scrape and scrabble for purchase, but find none. "Sure, darling. You're in charge out there. I'll play along. But you and I both know who actually calls the shots. You can't do anything about it."

Dew groans like he's been punched, and Aether feels his stomach swoop as he watches himself fuck his mate. Dew normally throws a fit when Aether moves him, if he's blocking a cabinet in the kitchen and stubbornly refusing to move, or if he doesn't want to get out of bed when Aether's scheduled for the morning shifts. So wriggly, intent on maintaining his dignity around the others.

But here he is, dreaming of Aether throwing his weight around, using it to manhandle Dew where he wants, how he wants to use him, where anyone could see them. Dew shrieks, and Aether knows that he's nailed his prostate.

"They can see you, you know," Aether says casually, like he isn't railing him like his life depends on it. "Speared on my cock like you were made to take it. You were, though, weren't you? My darling little slut."

Dew moans, the noise strangled as Aether pulls him back onto his cock by his pinned arms. No leverage of his own, reduced to just a hole for him to fuck and burn off that post-Ritual energy.

Aether wants to crouch, see if Dew's precum has smeared over the side of the crate, or if he's making a mess of his uniform.

But more than that, Aether's so hard he hurts. He imagines Dew must be the same.

He almost reluctantly pulls back from Dew's dream, dizzy with arousal. He ever so carefully rucks up his shirt, revealing the creamy ash grey skin of Dew's ass. It doesn't take much coaxing to pull Dew's tail out of the way, the appendage curling around Aether's forearm loosely.

Aether bites his lip hard to hold back a moan; Dew's scent is fucking intoxicating, his hole already water ghoul wet with slick arousal. He kicks his pants and boxers down, tossing them in the general direction of their hamper. The sound of fabric rustling on stone means he missed, but he could not be assed to care.

He swings a thigh over Dew's narrow hips, straddling his mate. It's not an unfamiliar position to be in, big hands and quintessence soothing sore muscles. But it's different now, Dew's little humps meaning he's pressing back against Aether's cock, smearing slick over the two of them. Dew's so deep in his dream that he doesn't even react, too busy grinding his stiffy into the mattress through Aether's shirt.

Aether takes a deep breath in through his nose, eyes fluttering shut as Dew's scent clings to the roof of his mouth. He's wet enough that Aether could just push in. And if Dew wants to feel small, well. That will certainly do the trick. Aether's cock kicks hard against the cleft of Dew's ass at the thought, the head catching at his slick rim.

But, before that. One more thing first.

Aether skates his hands up Dew's sides under his shirt, feeling the gentle suggestion of each rib, the warmth burning under his mate's skin. He drapes himself over Dew's body, almost mimicking how he'd positioned himself in the dream.

"Baby boy," Aether coos, lips just a hair away from the shell of Dew's ear. It flicks against his skull. "Darling, wake up for me. Want you to feel this."

In the darkness of their room, Aether grins as he sees a glowing copper eye flutter open, pupil dilating. Feels the heat of Dew's cheek burn as he processes what he'd been dreaming of, realizes that Aether had seen, the remnants of Aether's quintessence obvious and a little tingly at the base of his skull.

"Aeth," Dew slurs, whining sharp into the pillows. Aether laughs, not unkindly, leaning down to kiss Dew's temple. He rocks his hips against Dew's, sliding his cock between his cheeks. Just a taste of what he's about to do to him.

"Tell me, love," Aether whispers. "Do you want help? Do you want me to make you feel small, my darling?"

Aether sees Dew's visible eye roll back into his skull. He groans the exact same way he had in his dream. Aether watches his throat work as he swallows hard.

"Fuck, Aeth, please," Dew begs, whining and soft.

"Oh, darling boy," Aether groans, a shot of heat straight to his balls. It takes a lot to make Dew say please. Completely unprompted? Aether feels his cock kick against Dew's ass again.

Dew can feel it too, shoving his hips back against him. "Need it," he breathes.

Aether nods, not trusting his voice. He takes just a second longer. "I've got you, baby. Deep breath."

Dew complies as Aether notches his tip against his rim. Feels his body inflate as Aether presses him down by the hip. He pushes in incredibly slowly, twin groans as Aether splits him open. He's soaking wet, but Aether's thick, a struggle to take on a good day.

Dew grits his teeth, spindly fingers curling into the pillow under his head as he whines. He pants like he's run a marathon, and they've barely begun.

"Good boy, that's it," Aether says, strained with how tight his little mate is around him. "Taking me so well, letting me take you like this, breathe for me."

Dew nods the best he can, obsidian horns catching on the pillowcase. Aether lets his hand skate up the knobs of Dew's spine, over his own shirt, until his fingers are tangled in cornsilk-fine hair at the nape of his neck. Not pulling, not pushing, not yet. Just holding.

Dew groans, eyelashes fluttering against sharp cheeks. Despite all efforts to relax, body still lax and soft with sleep, he's still sinfully tight around Aether. "Fuck," he shivers, tail weakly tightening around Aether's forearm.

"Yeah, baby," Aether says, jaw clenched as he noses at the crook of Dew's neck, using the grip in his hair to angle his head just right. "Made just for me. Infernal Majesty, Dew, you're perfect, so small under me."

Dew spasms with a soft cry, and Aether's cock kicks inside him in response. "Fuck me," he gasps, fingers twitching. "Aether, I need you."

"You have me," Aether promises, swears directly into Dew's ear. "You always have me, baby. I'll take care of you. My precious mate."

He cries out as Aether's hips rock forward, spearing him incredibly deep, carving out a space for himself in Dew's body. Aether's entire body drapes over Dew's, pressure and weight holding him down into the mattress. Unlike in his dream, Dew makes no effort to fight for leverage. "There," he sighs, slumping into the sheets as Aether's cock nudges against that secret, intimate spot deep inside of him. Aether normally likes to joke it's his off-switch, but he doesn't want to risk breaking this soft moment they're living in.

"There?" Aether asks, voice light and teasing, like he didn't feel every muscle in Dew's body go slack with pleasure.

"Aether," Dew whines petulantly, cutting himself off with a yawn that bares sharp fangs. His jaw clicks, and Aether smiles so hard he feels his cheeks ache, so endeared by this little ghoul. He's so lucky. He keeps that sentiment close to his heart for now, and rocks his hips into Dew's ass. Dew's eyes fly open at the shock of pleasure. "Fuck!"

"Shh, baby, I got you. Nice and slow," Aether coos, holding his head down by the grip in his hair. He kisses his cheek as he starts to move.

With his chest pressed to Dew's back, Aether can feel his breath stuttering as he thrusts slowly into his body, so deep his balls press snug and heavy against Dew's taint. No matter how many times he's fucked Dew since the change, Aether always forgets just how hot he is inside. Silky and warm and wet, just clinging to him. Aether makes sure Dew knows exactly how he feels, and Dew's legs give a soft little kick underneath him.

Aether busies himself with pressing soft little kisses to the column of Dew's throat, holding his hair out of the way. There's a little stream of moonlight coming in through their curtains, and it catches on the long-scarred imprint of Aether's teeth in the crook of his neck.

Even sleepily, Dew scrabbles at the sheets as Aether keeps a steady, even rhythm. Each press of Aether's hips nudges him bodily up the mattress. "You're so small, love," Aether says almost in disbelief, his other hand coming up to curl around Dew's bony wrist. "Thank you for letting me take care of you, so perfect when you let go for me."

Dew whines, toes curling. Aether knows he only ever gets like this when he's deep in subspace or half asleep, every instinct to be stand-offish and snappy and stoic stripped away.

"I mean, Lucifer, Dew, who am I kidding?" Aether rambles, eyes locked onto the way his hand dwarfs Dew's. "You're always perfect. I love you so fucking much."

Dew keens at that, insides tightening around Aether's cock so hard that it must hurt a little. "Love you too," he slurs, drunk on it. He turns his hand in Aether's grip, squeezing. Aether squeezes back, rewards him with another slow press of his hips.

Aether feels the pleasure coiling in his gut, syrupy and thick. He slows even more to something almost glacial. "Dewey, baby boy. Tell me how you want it?"

"Don't you dare fucking stop," Dew hisses, craning his neck to glare halfheartedly at his mate.

"Never," Aether swears, ducking down even lower to kiss the corner of his mouth, hoping to melt Dew's scowl away. He pets through Dew's hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers. "Never leave you hanging when we're like this, sweetheart."

He's struck again with just how small Dew is under him like this, covered head to toe by his body. If another packmate came into their room right now, if they were brave enough to disturb the mates when the two of them were like this, they wouldn't even be able to see Dew at all.

His cock pulses at the thought, so hard that Dew lets out a soft little cry. Aether smiles. nibbling at Dew's earlobe. "You wanna cum, baby? Make a mess of my shirt and our hearth?"

Dew shudders from the top of his spine all the way down to the spade of his tail. "Fuck, Aether," he whimpers, squeezing Aether's hand tighter. "Please."

Aether's never been able to deny Dew anything. "Of course, baby boy," he breathes, breath hitching as liquid heat pools in his very core. "You want my hand on your stiffy, or-"

Dew doesn't let him finish. "No, 'm close already," he admits, giving a little hump into the mattress. "Fuckin' me just right."

Aether gives him a little harder shove of his hips, nailing his prostate and making a strangled whine rip from his throat. "Yeah, baby? Just like that?"

Dew nods, yelping softly as it pulls at Aether's hand in his hair. "Fuck, please don't stop, Aether," he gasps, toes curling and tail tightening around Aether's arm.

"Never, baby," Aether swears. "Never. Just feel good for me, darling. Cum when you're ready."

He shudders, and it doesn't take too much longer before Dew stiffens underneath him, mouth falling open with a soft gasp. Aether squeezes his hand, groaning in Dew's ear as his ass squeezes him as he cums.

"That's it, baby, cum for me," Aether soothes, letting go of his hair to pet at his flank as he shakes. His hips don't stop, working him through his orgasm. He wants to chase his own, but this takes precedence. "So good for me, such a good mate, I love you so fucking much."

Dew doesn't respond, still shaking and soaking the front of Aether's shirt and the sheets. He does, however, squeeze Aether's hand three times. Ever the sap, it's enough to tip Aether over the edge as well, vision going white as his orgasm hits him unusually hard.

He presses his lips to Dew's cheek, gasping and panting as he empties his balls deep inside his love, clinging to him. Dew wheezes, eyes rolling back again as he feels his release thick and sticky inside of him, painting his insides with it.

It takes them both a while to come down from it, panting and gasping in the quiet of the night. Eventually, Aether hooks his arms around Dew's waist, rolling them onto their sides without pulling out. "Hey, baby," he whispers, nuzzling against his mate bite.

Dew huffs through his nose, eyes closed. "Hi," he laughs breathily. "How was work?"

Aether rolls his eyes before nosing through Dew's hair again, breathing in caramel and cinnamon and clove. He's memorized this scent, burnt into the very core of him, but is ever grateful for the reminder of what his love smells like at his most tender. "Work was okay," he chuckles, still nosing behind Dew's ear. "Glad to be home."

Dew cranes his neck to face him, pressing a kiss to his lips, nearly missing in the dark. "Glad you're home too."

He smiles, gold fang glinting in the moonlight, and Dew matches the expression before settling back into Aether's little spoon. Aether pulls him tighter to his chest until his chin is pressed softly to the crown of his head. "I love you," he promises, grinning brightly as Dew starts to purr.

"Love you too," Dew yawns, without a moment of hesitation.

Aether allows himself a few more moments of nuzzling. "Baby, you wanna get up and clean up real quick?" he asks, voice soft. He's had to help calm a pissy Dewdrop upset about dried cum more times than he'd care to admit. It's not his fault they're both obsessed with late night sex.

There's no response. Aether's brow furrows, and he props himself up on an elbow. Dew's eyes are shut, and Aether has to bite back laughter as Dew lets out a soft, whistling snore. Of course. He doesn't blame him one bit.

Aether smiles, brushes a strand of hair off of Dew's forehead before laying back down behind him and adjusting his arms around Dew's body. Feels the rise and fall of his breathing. "Good night, darling," Aether whispers, shutting his eyes and following his mate to sleep.

[sneeeasel]

Submas Headcanon because I am once again Lost In The Sauce:

Ingo is far sighted and Emmet is near sighted.

Emmet wears contacts All The Time because he can't stand wearing glasses. The constant smudging, the feeling of them on his face, the frames being just barely at the edge of the vision FOREVER!!!! He HATES it. The whole ordeal is quote "verrrrrry tedious. It is not worth my time." This does make going to the beach with Electross a living nightmare, however. Will Not wear sunglasses (if you have light eyes you know sunlight is The Devil) and it's game over if sand gets in his eyes.

Ingo doesn't have to wear glasses in the day-to-day, but this fact comes back to bite him when it comes time to read reports. He often leaves his glasses at home and this causes new employees to think he actually IS in a constant bad mood, given how he's GLARING HOLES into his paperwork. This always gets cleared up rather quickly, but he refuses to keep a pair of glasses at work for some reason... (The reason is he's too embarrassed that it took him so long to think of that)

Elesa is constantly telling the boys they should wear their glasses more because glasses suit them, (and also sunglasses would be genuinely helpful for seeing in the summer EMMET-) but they decline every time. Ingo, out of modesty and Emmet, out of pettiness.

"C'mon Emmy, you'll look GREAT!! Just look at Ingo, looking distinguished in his glasses, reading his book."

"He looks like an old man."

">:|"

"The blanket on your lap does not help."

[thenatallie]

A decent lady

Part II

Description: You are Feyd's first concubine ever. You are terrified while being dressed up for him. He is thrilled while he waits for you and already has dirty thoughts and plans for you. You are finally presented to him... Warnings: Becoming sexy, if that should be a warning at all. Next chapter is gonna be a heavy smut, so MDNI.

***

You found yourself in a bath with herbs and rose petals, bald servant women were washing you and washing your face repeatedly, because you couldn't stop crying for being doomed for life. You realized immediately that you were going to be sex slave of that young man that you knew nothing about. They were scared because your eyes were already red and swollen. "Stop crying, please... You won't be pretty for our Lord. How can we do your makeup?", one girl said. Elder woman added: "We could be... replaced if we don't get you pretty in time." Between your sobs, you managed to ask who their Lord is. All the servants immediately started staring at you and quickly exchanged glances between themselves. One finally said: "Our Lord Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen." "Feyd-Rautha??!", you screamed in terror. The man known for being psychotic and killing people for fun! "Shh, don't yell, please! Walls have ears, someone might think that we speak bad of our Lord", one of servants said and gave you a concerned look. You understood her fear, poor woman. You stopped crying, and instead od that, you froze. "What is he going to do to me, is he going to hurt me?", you asked quietly, with shivery voice. The woman gave you a piece of friendly advice: "You just need to be obedient and adress him as Lord Na-Baron. Do whatever he says. So far, he never hurt ladies he has chosen. And remember - you should feel honored that he chose you." You took a long deep breath, realizing you really need to put yourself together to go through that nightmare.

***

Meanwhile, Feyd anticipated your arrival into his chambers any minute. He felt thrilled for what he wanted to do with you, his very first concubine. His perverse desires woulld be satisfied whenever he wanted. He just needed to seduce you, to drive you mad for him first, for there is nothing honorable about forcing his lovers to be. Seductuon should not be that hard despite the circumstances, Feyd thought. He knew women too well for quite some time now. Only a few of them were afraid like you when met him, but surprisingly quickly changed their minds. Except... except you were the most beautiful one he's met, you had blond wavy hair, you were slim and with really nice curves, with your eyes blue like his, your porcelan tan almost fair as his. Nevermind the fact you were a real mess that day, trembling for being traumatized. That excited him further as he was thinking of all the seductuon scenarios with you. He wandered how much more appealing you can get when dressed up only for him. He awaited you. He was nonchalantly leaned on a table, wearing black sheer tunic that almost completely revealed his godlike torso and veiny hands. A long, also black, heavy and layered skirt started little below his waist. His leather black boots were elegant, adding a fine touch to the outfit. Feyd was awaiting you while slowly sipping a glass of a dark, thick bittersweet liqor, occasionally licking and biting his lips at the thoughts of you.

***

The agonizing moment had came. Two servants took you into the dark chambers decorated by weapons and different metallic figures. They made gesture to present you to Feyd, bowing, then quickly went out and you heard the sounds of metal door closing. You dared to look at him. You did your best not to show fear, but you felt it anyway. Your eyes were first captured by his unreadable but predatory gaze. The you felt something else, too. Something that made you shift your eyes to his lips. They were so pink, plump and wet. Than your eyes wandered lower. His whole figure caused a faint thought somewhere in your mind that this situation might be a little easier than you think, a little more applealing even... You blushed and looked at the floor. Feyd red you easily, putting very content smirk on his lips. He finally spoke in a raspy voice: "Come here, little swan. Don't be afraid, come closer."

***

[candycandy00]

Love + Potion - A Yami x Reader Fanfic

You work at a bar Yami frequents and so you’re nearby when he decides to try a potion that turns him into a werewolf for 24 hours. It also happens to make him extremely horny. 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Yami becomes a werewolf. Oral sex. Regular sex. Size kink.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @drizztdohurtin.

“Another.”

You look up from the bar, where you’ve been wiping up spilled beer. A few seats down sits your favorite customer, Captain Yami of the Black Bulls. 

He comes to this tavern often, a few times a week unless he’s off on a particularly lengthy mission. When you began working here a year ago, you found him intimidating. He’s huge, he’s gruff, and his squad is rumored to include all sorts of ruffians and even criminals! But you quickly learned that Captain Yami is nothing like you expected. 

He’s never made trouble for you. He’s respectful even if his tone can be impolite. When he spills his drink, he actually cleans it up himself! He’s broken up several fights before they could damage the bar, and on the rare occasion he gets involved in a scuffle, he takes it outside to avoid causing problems. 

One night a drunk customer got irate and threw a glass at you. Yami caught it in midair before it could hit you. Another customer tried to get handsy with you, and Yami literally dragged the man out and tossed him on the street. Some nights, when he stays until closing time, he even walks you home.

You’ve never seen Yami dead drunk. Tipsy, yes. But actually drunk off his ass? Never. No matter how much he drinks. It must be a stamina thing, because it’s obvious that Yami has stamina for days. 

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if he has that much stamina in the bedroom. 

Yami is an attractive man. It’s well known in the kingdom that several women have their eyes on him, but so far he seems oblivious to their interest. You know you have no shot with him if the powerful beauties around him haven’t been able to bag him. But still, it’s fun to entertain silly fantasies. 

Tonight, he’s laughing and enjoying himself as he talks with another patron, a potion maker who often boasts about the strange, magical concoctions he’s created. This time it’s a potion that turns a person into a werewolf for twenty-four hours. 

Yami doesn’t believe him. No one ever does. The man has bragged about lots of different potions but has never let anyone try them. 

“I’m telling you, it really works!” the man is saying. 

Yami claps him on the back as he takes another drink. “Sure, pal! Whatever you say!”

The man’s face reddens. “Fine! If you’re so sure it won’t work, why don’t you try it?”

Yami pauses, sitting down his drink and looking at the man. “You have it with you?”

The man nods, digging around in his leather bag and producing a clear glass bottle with an amber colored liquid inside. “Here it is! Drink it and apologize for doubting me!”

Yami picks up the bottle and examines the liquid. “You say it only lasts one day?”

“Yes! One full day! Then it wears off and you go back to normal.”

“What are the effects?” Yami asks, seeming more sober and focused now that he’s considering trying it. 

The potion maker straightens in his seat. “You’ll turn into a half man, half wolf. Your teeth with get sharper and your senses will be improved. You’ll probably crave some meat.”

“That doesn’t sound bad,” Yami says. Oh no. Is he actually going to try it? You think it’s a terrible idea, but it’s none of your business, so you keep quiet and listen. 

“Oh, and you might have the sudden desire to mate,” the man adds. 

You freeze, the rag going limp and still in your hand. Yami… wanting to mate? You glance over at him, curious about his reaction to that comment. 

“Will I still have control over myself?” he asks. “I’m not gonna hurt anyone, am I?”

The potion maker laughs. “Oh, of course! You’ll have complete control. It doesn’t affect your mind. Just your senses and instincts.”

Yami finishes off his drink then picks up the potion. He pulls out the wooden stopper and smells the liquid, then shrugs. “Bottom’s up.”

As you watch, Yami downs the amber liquid in one big gulp, then sits the empty bottle on the bar and wipes his mouth. “Tastes like shit,” he says, and starts to offer another comment before he suddenly groans and holds his stomach. 

You step closer. “Captain? Are you alright?”

He looks up at you and forces a grin, even though he appears to be in pain. “I’m fine. Just need… to go to the… restroom.”

Yami stands up and staggers toward the back. You’ve seen him hurry to the bathroom before, but not like this. He’s stumbling over chairs, crashing through the place like a literal bull. 

The door to the restroom slams shut, and the whole bar falls silent. Many of the other customers heard the conversation, and you see them whispering to those that seem confused. Before long, everyone in the bar is waiting to see the results of the potion. 

You hear Yami grunting and groaning from your spot behind the bar. Then he screams out in what sounds like pain. The scream morphs midway into an ear splitting howl, and a chill runs down your spine. What’s happened to your beloved customer?!

The door to the bathroom swings open, and Yami walks out. Under the lights of the bar, you can see the changes clearly. He’s a little taller, his hair a little longer, and there seems to be a thin coat of fine dark fur all over his exposed arms. His eyes are keener, taking on a blood red color with strangely shaped pupils. When he opens his mouth, you can see that his teeth are all razor sharp. 

A few people hoot and hollar, clapping and cheering. Yami grins at them. 

“How does it feel, Captain?” someone shouts. 

“It felt like hell for a minute there,” he says, and the crowd laughs. “But now? It feels pretty damn good!”

He makes his way back toward the bar, answering a few questions along the way and even letting a curious lady touch the fur of his arm. When he takes his usual seat, he looks at you and says, “Give me whatever you serve that has meat in it.”

“R-right away, Captain,” you say, flustered by the intensity of those red eyes. You serve him a pork roast sandwich, then watch as he devours it in seconds. 

“Are you really alright?” you ask him. 

His eyes shift to your face again, then slide down. He’s never looked at you this way before, not even once, but now his gaze seems to be lingering on your chest. 

“I’m good,” he says, eyes moving back to your face. 

The night wears on, with Yami drinking and ordering more meat dishes. He seems to be in good spirits, and even buys the potion maker a drink, an apology for doubting his work. 

The guests begin to thin out, and by midnight, only Yami and the potion maker remain. 

“It will wear off tomorrow, right?” Yami asks. 

The potion maker puffs out his chest. “Of course it will! My potions are perfect!”

With that, the man leaves, and Yami is the last person at the bar. Even the other employees have gone, leaving you to lock up the place. 

Yami glances at the clock on the wall. “About closing time, huh?”

You’re sweeping the floor, moving chairs as you go along. “As soon as I finish cleaning up,” you say. All night you’ve been feeling his eyes on you, seeming to track your every move. 

He leans over onto the bar. “I’m not lookin’ forward to going home. My squad’s gonna have a lot to say about this.”

You don’t look up from the floor. You’re afraid he’ll notice how flushed your face is. “Oh really?”

“I know a couple who are gonna freak out and call me reckless. At least one will want to fight me in this form. And a few will probably wanna pet me,” he adds with a laugh. 

Without thinking, you say, “Well your fur does look very soft, Captain.”

Oh no. Did you just say that? Out loud? You keep your back turned to him as you lower your head. 

“Wanna touch it?” 

You freeze at the sound of his voice. Slowly, your turn to look at him. Your eyes meet his, and they look… hungry. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, stepping closer. 

He holds out one arm toward you. “I’m sure.”

Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his arm, your fingertips brushing over the fur there. It feels like velvet, and soon your whole hand is rubbing his arm, from his shoulder to his wrist. You can feel the taut muscles beneath the silky fur, and you feel something within you tighten. 

“So?” he asks. “How is it?”

His eyes are locked on yours again. You swallow and say, “It’s as soft as it looks, Captain.”

“Yami. Call me Yami.”

Your hand is still on his arm. “Yami,” you repeat, feeling heat creep across your face. 

A moment passes between you, then you withdraw your hand. “If you really don’t want your squad to see you, just stay here tonight. There’s no bed but there’s a bench in the back.”

“You wouldn’t get in trouble, would you?” 

You smile. “I don’t think the owner would mind. It’d be like having the best security guard in the world for free.”

“Thanks,” he says. “I think I’ll do that.”

You take your time finishing up the cleaning, suddenly being in no hurry to leave. When you’re finally done, you walk back over to the bar. “The bench is in the back. I’ll show you before I leave.”

He looks at you, that same hunger in his eyes. “You’re not staying? I might get lonely.”

“Uh, well… I…”

He breaks eye contact and looks away. “Sorry. I don’t know what I’m sayin’. This damn potion is makin’ me act weird.”

“I don’t mind!” you blurt out, then instantly regret your honesty when he looks at you again. “I mean… I don’t mind staying here tonight and keeping you company,” you add, hoping he doesn’t pick up on your embarrassment. 

“Are you sure? You’re probably tired from workin’ all night.”

Ahh, his eyes are so intense right now. His voice is even deeper than usual. And you’re standing so close to him, you can feel his body heat. 

You can feel something else too. A growing wetness between your legs. 

“I’m positive,” you say. “How about another drink? Or another sandwich?” 

You start to step away, but his big hand catches your wrist. It’s a gentle grip, but it stops you in your tracks. He leans closer to you, and… sniffs? 

“You smell good,” he says. Then his eyes widen slightly, as if he’s just realizing something. He focuses on your face. “Are you…?” Then his eyes trail down your body, pausing below your waist. 

Wait, can he smell your arousal? When his eyes move back to yours, you know it’s true. The unfinished question lingers in the air between you, and his hand is still holding your wrist. You stare at him for a moment, mentally debating what you should do. You’ll probably never get another chance like this, to be alone with a horny Yami. How many women in the kingdom would give anything for an opportunity like this? 

So you decide to throw caution to the wind and go for it. You lean closer, locked in his gaze, and ever so slowly kiss his parted lips. He doesn’t pull away, which is a good sign. When you part from him, he says nothing at first, only lifts his cigarette to his mouth and takes a drag before putting it out in the nearby ashtray. After exhaling the smoke, he quickly pulls you closer and kisses you back. 

This kiss is different from the one you gave him. This is all heat and tongue and his free hand sliding into your hair. His fingers are tipped with sharp claws, but he’s being careful not to scratch you. 

You lean into him, your hands pawing at his thin white shirt, trying to drag it up. You’ve wanted to see him shirtless for as long as you’ve known him, and now you can’t get it off fast enough. 

He breaks the kiss long enough to slip the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor. His muscular chest is also coated in a thin layer of that velvety fur. It becomes thinner as it goes down his torso, becoming almost invisible by the time it hits his waist, save for a thicker, narrow patch trailing from his navel down to beneath his belt. Does it go all the way down? You can’t wait to find out. 

His hands move to the front of your dress, untying the laces of your simple corset. With it loosened, the fabric of the dress beneath it slips down, your breasts spilling out. Yami wastes no time squeezing one while his head dips down to take the other into his mouth, his lips sucking the tender nipple. 

You sigh in pleasure, one hand on his head, fingers raking through his hair. His touch is hot, burning with a desire you never thought you’d feel from him. One of his arms circles around your waist, holding you close, and you can smell a strong, woodsy musk. Yami’s scent. It’s intoxicating. 

He stands up from the stool and lifts you onto the bar so that you’re sitting on the edge, facing him, legs dangling. He pushes your dress up to your waist, then slides your modest white panties down, under your ass, and off your ankles. With them discarded, he parts your legs, and leans his face in. 

Yami devours your pussy the way he devoured the pork roast sandwiches, like he was starving, ravenous. His big, warm hands are on your thighs, holding them apart while his tongue laps at your dripping cunt. And when his lips wrap around your throbbing clit, you gasp and shudder, your hands flying to his shoulders to have something to grip. 

“Captain…” you moan out, then, in an even more breathless tone, “Y-Yami!”

It feels so good, you think you might simply dissolve into a pool of goo. He’s always seemed somewhat indifferent to women, so you assumed he wasn’t one of those playboys with tons of experience. But this is clearly not a man who has never pleasured a woman before. He’s too good at this, his tongue pressing into the exact spots that have your whole body jerking. 

When you cum, your thighs quivering in his grip, you find yourself squirting for the first time in your life. The intensity of the orgasm has you panting as Yami licks up every drop. 

You barely catch your breath before you notice Yami unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. You stare in anticipation as he pulls out a monstrously huge erection, leaking from the tip and seeming to twitch in his hand. You’re already drenched, slick with your fluids and Yami’s saliva, but taking his cock is going to be a challenge. 

Is it so big because he’s a werewolf now? Or is it always like this? Either way, you spread your legs even wider and lean back on your elbows, looking up at him expectantly. 

He grins at you. “Think you can take it?”

You smile back at him. “If not, I’ll surpass my limits,” you say, using the phrase he was famous for in the kingdom. 

He laughs heartily, then leans over you. “Ready?”

You nod, your heart racing with excitement. With his improved senses, he can probably hear it. He definitely hears your breath catching as he begins sliding his cock inside you. 

He goes slowly, carefully, giving your body time to stretch and accommodate him. You feel so full already and he’s only halfway in, but you weren’t kidding about surpassing your limits. You want him all the way inside you. 

Your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, you slick pussy drawing him further in. God, he’s so big, so warm, you want to stay like this forever. He grunts as he finally bottoms out, his tip smushed against your cervix in a satisfying way. 

For a moment, he doesn’t move, as if he just wants to enjoy the feeling of being fully sheathed inside you, of your soft, slippery warmth wrapped around him. 

Then, he begins lightly thrusting into you, watching your face for your reaction. When you cry out in pleasure, reaching up and throwing your arms around his neck, his thrusts become deeper, harder. 

You can feel his fine fur rubbing against your bare chest, and it drives you wild. You bury your face in his neck, whimpering his name as he pounds into you, your body nearly lifting from the bar with each thrust. 

He’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on the parts of his skin not covered in fur, intensifying his scent. You want it to seep into your skin and mark you forever as his. His toned abdomen, with its trail of soft hair, is rubbing your body, creating the friction you crave, making your breaths come shuddering and rapid. 

With a loud cry, you climax again. Your entire body, from your arms to your legs to your silky pussy, clenches him tightly. He fucks you through it, his own muscles seeming to spasm as he suddenly groans and plunges in deep. He stays that way, absolutely buried inside you as he cums, shooting his entire hot load directly into your core. 

For several moments, the two of you remain tangled together. Then you slowly separate. He helps you down from the bar and you stand on shaky legs, not moving until you feel steady. 

Quietly, the two of you clean up, and you pour Yami another drink. 

“I hope I’m still welcome here tomorrow night,” he says, seeming just a little awkward as he lights another cigarette. 

“Of course you are!” you tell him. “You’re my favorite customer!”

He looks at you and smiles. “Oh? That’s funny. I come here all the time because you’re my favorite bartender!”

You laugh at that remark, thinking you’ll have to thank the potion maker the next time you see him. His werewolf potion may as well have been a love potion! 

[steviewashere]

How Do Horses Wear Jeans?

Rating: General CW: None Tags: Post-Canon, Humor & Hijinks, Shenanigans, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Domestic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Have a Brotherly Friendship, Dork Steve Harrington, Smug Steve Harrington, This is Silly and Probably Stupid and Very Goofy, Steve Winning Bets, Eddie Siding With Steve (Even Unknowingly), They're in Love, Dialogue Heavy, Short & Sweet Steve and Dustin have bets and arguments constantly over hypothetical scenarios. And Steve has a secret weapon to defend himself which is Eddie's opinion on these scenarios.

🐴—————🐴 It’s five in the morning. He doesn’t want to be awake, but is awake despite. To spite, eventually. But he’s here. In his little kitchenette. Spooning dry Honeycomb past his lips because they ran out of milk, listening to the Felix the Cat clock tick away, and trying to make sense of whatever thing Steve’s got this morning.

Here’s the thing, Eddie isn’t a morning person. Not in the slightest. He’ll wake up when he eventually feels like it—and sometimes he’ll go back to sleep for a few hours more. Though, since he’s somehow started dating Steve Harrington, he’s up and at ‘em when Steve feels like it. At first, it was a total accident. Steve had hefted himself out of bed a little too hard, jostled Eddie awake, and then he just stayed awake.

(Wayne questions what black magic Steve brewed because in all the years he’s known his own son, Eddie has never—not even once—been awake at the same time as another person. Not willingly, at least.)

It just became a force of habit.

Steve’s up? Eddie’s up. Steve’s down? Eddie’s down. Steve’s hauling ass? Eddie’s hauling Steve’s ass—okay, so maybe that one’s different, but it still counts.

What he didn’t expect, though, was for Steve’s mind to be so active in the morning. Sure, he fantasizes about Steve slipping into some running sneakers and going about the neighborhood, boobying about or…whatever he does; running, probably, but Eddie’s horn-dog mind doesn’t make it past sweat and hair without half-passing out from a hard-on. Steve doesn’t go jogging in the mornings, that’s the weird thing. No, this puzzle of a man wakes up at five to down a plate of plain scrambled eggs—of all things—and guzzle a glass of orange juice. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand, after that satisfying glass of OJ, belches like he’s the only person on the face of the planet, and then says some oddball thought out loud for Eddie to parse.

Yesterday, it had been the question on whether or not jellyfish poop. “Yes,” he had told Steve, “they just shit out of their mouth. They only have one opening, y’know.” And Steve had stared at him. Cackled. Then proceeded to ask him what other creatures shit out of their mouth. Eddie didn’t have an answer. Steve came to the conclusion that Mike Wheeler does—and that…well, Eddie can agree with that most of the time.

This morning, Steve spoons heaping piles of eggs into his mouth. Chews with his mouth open as he’s talking—the heathen. Gets his usual glass of orange juice. (Keep in mind this is all while Eddie’s groggy, his bangs are slick to his forehead from hot flashes in the night, spooning sharp and dry cereal down his throat, trying to keep up.) Then, a belch and a half later—Jesus H. Christ—Steve voices, “If a horse wore pants, do you think they’d wear them on their back two legs or on all legs?” His words sleep riddled and husky, still syrupy from dreamland.

Eddie blinked. Blinked some more.

“What?” He finally got out, throat brittle from his cereal.

“Horses,” Steve says, “they’re wearing pants. How many legs are covered in jeans? The back two or all of them? Because I feel like it makes more sense for just the back two, but also”—he tsks—“they aren’t people. So…would a horse have its own way of wearing jeans separate from us? Or would they just go with it?”

“I…I don’t know? Why are they wearing jeans?”

Steve shrugged. “They just are.”

He set his bowl on the counter behind him, clinking it against a couple other dishes he has yet to put away from the dinner last night. Last night, when Steve brought up the idea that dogs would have their own accents based on the regions they grew up in. And he just sighs.

“So…horses are wearing jeans,” he thinks aloud, words slow, “and you need to know the orientation in which they’d wear them?”

“Yeah!” Steve exclaims, snapping the thumb and index finger on his right hand, “they’re wearing jeans! But how?”

“I mean, having jeans on all four legs would look weird,” Eddie gives as his two cents, “we don’t wear jeans on our arms.”

Steve hums, but it’s more of a, “See, but here’s the thing…” hum. “Jean jackets, though. We wear jean jackets. Jeans on our legs. Jean shirts. People have all kinds of ways of wearing jeans, so what about horses?”

“What about horses? Wouldn’t they just have their own trends, too? Like some would wear jeans on the back two legs and others do all the legs? I bet they’d wear jean saddles, too if they could figure out how to get them on by themselves!”

And…shit. This is exactly what Steve does to him every morning.

Voice some thought. The thought is random, doesn’t make much sense, could be waved off with a simple hand. But then Steve gets him all heated. To the point where he argues some weird defense.

Then, Steve looks at him after it all.

Some smug, satisfied grin on his face. The heathen!

“So would horses be like us, then? Just wear jeans however they felt like it?” Steve asks. Still smug. So smugly.

Eddie groans. “Is this some weird argument you’ve got going on with Dustin or something? Am I just backing your point—again?”

“Oh…I don’t know,” Steve drawls. “Maybe. But also…since you’re on my side”—he can’t help but groan at Steve again—“then that means Dustin loses the bet we had. Dude gets to sort out the tapes the next time he tags along for one of my shifts.”

He levels Steve with a look. One eyebrow raised. Eyes wide. “What’d he do?”

“Spilled Dr. Pepper on the floor of my car,” he answers simply, “he didn’t have the money to help pay for it to be cleaned and detailed. So. Next best thing? Punishment at Family Video. And also I get to rub it in his face that my point is correcter.”

“More correct.”

“Whatever,” Steve mumbles, a flippant hand in front of him. “You knew what I meant. I just get to be more correct for once and that’s gonna be freaking awesome sauce, dude.”

Eddie snorts. Mutters, “Awesome sauce.” Then, he picks up his bowl of cereal again, another dry spoonful on his tongue. Asks, “What if he gets the others to rally with him? How’re you gonna prove your point then?”

Steve goes completely quiet and still.

It’d be worrisome if he wasn’t screwing his face up every few seconds, working through other thoughts he’s got. What rambunctious things go on in his brain, Eddie doesn’t know—probably won’t ever know, but at least he knows Steve’s working on…something.

And at the last few crumbs being poured into his mouth, Steve has the audacity to follow through with, voice serious and low, “Monkeys are taking over the planet. You have to save one of two things. Your acoustic or the Garfield mug, which one are you picking?”

He shakes his head and sighs, turning towards the sink with his cereal bowl. But, after a few seconds of thought, he answers, “Probably the acoustic. A mug wouldn’t do me any good against monkeys, right?”

Behind him, Steve lets out a large victory whoop. The commotion of him moving through the trailer, into the kitchenette, sidling up right next to Eddie. He smacks a wet, noisy kiss to Eddie’s cheek. Whispers, “I knew it!” And then starts back towards the bedroom—Eddie can only assume to put on some more decent clothes than his pajamas.

Which is confirmed mere minutes later when Steve presents himself again, keys in hand, pumping his fist and pointing directly at Eddie in the living room. “That little shrimp has to clean the men’s restroom, too! Ha-ha!” he shouts.

Playfully, he rolls his eyes and smirks. “Go to work, you dork. Don’t wanna miss Dustin’s betrayed little face.”

Steve grins, teeth and all. “Oh, I know. It’s gonna be fucking great. That’s what he gets for spilling his sticky ass soda in my car.” He strides to the trailer’s door, begins to step out, but once he’s half-way through, he turns back to Eddie with, “I love you, Eds. I’ll keep my mouth shut about you answering my questions. Dustin won’t have a fucking clue.”

“Love you, too,” he says, “and don’t worry about throwing me under the bus. I’ll always be on your side…whether I realize it initially or not.”

Later, when Steve’s on his lunch break, Eddie will get a call—another hypothetical:

“If pigs could fly, would they use it for good or evil?”

He can’t help but wonder how he got stuck with the most lovable dork on the planet.

And how Dustin keeps getting roped into these goofy bets. Probably his tone, Eddie surmises, yeah…probably his tone.

🐴—————🐴

[justenjoythegossip]

CHRIS & ABBA’S LATEST PR STUNT & THE VISIBLE ENDGAME OF THE PR STRATEGY or… “WILL YOU JUST GET OVER IT ALREADY? IT HAS BEEN TWO FREAKING YEARS”…

Recap of recent events: 

Yesterday was the premiere of Red One in Berlin. Go Germany. Chris didn’t walk the red carpet before Dwayne as he was supposed to, arrived late with his wife, walked the carpet (after almost missing it) without her, played with the precious very ostentatiously for the cameras, she and Chris shared a moment together as they hugged and she gave him a look of... disgust(?). Then they were filmed sitting together for the movie and Chris seemed angry/pissed(?) at her as he gestures, seemingly does a nervous tick by pressing on his glasses and she rolls her head… #couplegoals LOL

Side note: kudos to the PR agent sitting next to Abba for her clapping as it seemingly helped indicate to her she was supposed to applaud her loving husband and also served as miraculous blocking from this angle, to show us only what they want us to see. 

She was always going to be there…

I have been asked many times if I thought Abba would show up at the premiere. And I always answered that I was 50/50 on the matter. When we learned that it was actually Justin who arranged that podcast for her, I was leaning towards no. Because why would she feel the need to go on a podcast no one asked for, if she was going to get the exposure of a big Hollywood premiere soon, right? Then we got the Avengers’ PR stunt where they endorsed Kamala Harris and Chris was flashing his ringless hand so ostentatiously. And then I immediately thought, of course she will be there. Her saying her marriage year was terrible coupled with his non wearing his wedding ring was meant to manipulate his fans into thinking the end was near and like always to add shock value to their next PR stunt. 

And of course she was going to be there, this is actually a big part of why he did this PR stunt in the first place. He wanted the world to know he was a married man and there is no better platform than a Hollywood event to push a narrative… even when you push it as discreetly as you can so that you don’t offend your fandom and the general public any further…

Why did we get a remake of what happened at the Ghosted premiere and what does this mean?

If people remember the Ghosted Premiere, they did not walk together as they infamously made their red carpet debut for the Vanity Fair party. At the time, I theorized that the reason they didn’t was because they wanted to ease his fans in as they knew there was quite a lot of backlash from his fans but also from the general public. I still think that was the case but it’s even more obvious after today’s stunt, as this was a win-win for Chris. He gets to sell the married man brand he is craving so desperately while putting his kinda wife in a corner.  Go Berlin! She gets to come but has to make sure she is not seen too much as her presence could offend his fans and a part of the general public and more importantly have an impact on his movie’s box office and his career more generally speaking. And look how his “fans” take this as a victory… 

But it’s not, it’s just more manipulation and gaslighting on Chris and his team’s part. 

Because clearly all the content of the 2 of them was not meant for the general public but destined to his fandom. And as you can see they didn’t make it to the Just Jared article this time. But they did get to sell the “we are real and private/we are just PR” narrative. Badly like always because it’s the point. 

https://www.justjared.com/2024/11/03/dwayne-johnson-lucy-liu-chris-evans-more-premiere-new-holiday-movie-red-one-in-berlin/

But now we finally get a clearer sense of why Abba felt the need to go on a podcast no one cared about for the first edition of a small festival that got little to no media coverage! She is basically reduced to a prop that has basically no voice or agency but is taken out for minimal lowkey PR stunts when it’s absolutely necessary. But since she a Nazi sex worker, I am guessing we should all be ok with this. But more on that later. 

The latest appearance of the precious ring and its use from a PR standpoint… 

I have already discussed the ring profusely and even recently when he went to the walk of fame for Kevin Feige. Here are a couple of posts where I give my 2 cents about it.

Before I dive into the latest shenanigans with the precious, it’s important to note that playing with wedding rings is very “in” right now. And so what Chris did last night was textbook CAA. Just look at what Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck recently did with theirs or even more ridiculously how Dakota flashed her engagement ring during an arranged papwalk. 

Here you can see a video of Chris with the very purposefully loose ring:

As people have pointed out, the ring is way too big, isn’t it? And clearly that’s the whole point since it feeds the “it’s only PR” narrative, isn’t it? But that’s not even the most interesting part about this little clip. Look at where the fans are on this video, then pay closer attention to the camera placement. Can you see how much emphasis the person who is filming (not a fan) is putting on the loose ring and how CURATED this all is?

And now look at Chris playing with his ring so naturally and organically (sarcasm) as the photographers are taking his picture. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Chris Evans Army (@cevans_army)

They want you to see it, they are showing it to you, as ostentatiously as it gets. Even when Chris plays the game of “hide the ring”, it is to draw more attention to it while trying to gain sympathy from fans who are so desperate to see a glimmer of regret in his demeanor. 

The programmed obsolescence of Team Real/Team PR and the endgame of the PR strategy 

I have discussed months ago, how this strategy of “divide and conquer” which was symbolized by the discourse and fighting between Team Real and Team PR was just a starting point. A PR strategy can only be understood and appreciated when it can be analyzed in the long run. Those 2 trolling teams were the loud extremist voices that were obnoxious and repulsive enough (in their tone or rhetoric) to drive fans away from them and the narratives they were selling, paving the way for the more reasoned and rational Team Middle. I wrote a post about it if you want to check it out. 

As Team PR and team Real have become completely redundant, all that is left is the narrative Team Middle are pushing. Notice how they purposefully keep blurring the line to disorient (classic manipulation tactics by the way) and make people accept what they are selling. And today they might distract you with the loose ring, the presence of her relatives, the not walking the red carpet together or taking pictures together (but just you wait for the NY premiere as it is just around the corner), their bad body language around each other, the awkwardness and coolness of their exchanges, her cheap outfit while he is dressed in designer clothes by his scientologist and rapist apologist stylist, or they will point out as over the top and fake he was in his reactions at the premiere and I could go on and on… All of this is true BUT it is all a distraction and misdirection. 

As they have pointed out repeatedly, it has been two years, so you should just accept it or move on. The fandom no longer needs your services if you are not capable of enjoying the content they “so kindly” provide for you. They will feed you the crumbs showing how fake it is to appease you and to distract from Chris’ complicity and manipulation as long as you behave. 

The seemingly counterintuitive promoting of this girl by plants, their vicious trolling and what purposes it serves..

So many plants allegedly hate Abba but talk about her constantly. The amount of attention she is getting from them seems incommensurable. Like posting her numbers religiously or obsessing about what she is wearing and so forth.

If it weren’t for them we would hear very little about her. For example, we would have known she was going to do a podcast in her home country only after she posted about it and not a long time before hand. It's also important to note that most of the time she is mentioned, it is in a very negative way as they usually make fun of her and humiliate her. As you know, “there is no such thing as bad publicity”. But in this instance, it’s interesting to ask ourselves why and also what purposes it serves more specifically.

Well, I have just mentioned that bad publicity is still publicly, but another key rule is: know your audience. And obviously Chris’ fandom dislikes her so intensely that talking about her in a negative way, showing animosity towards her is the smart approach to gain the trust of his fans you want to manipulate. The goal here is to paint her as an absolute villain. I am not defending her by the way as she is an awful person but she has 0 power in this story but she makes for a hell of a scapegoat in this shitshow. And indeed, people can easily project all of their disappointment, anger and negative emotions onto her in order to soothe their frustration. 

You see the industry makes you do things you don’t want to do if you let it, talent agencies are as unethical as it gets and will play an awful game if you let them, the PR wife that you selected (or agreed on) might be a POS… but at the end of the day, it’s all a reflection of your own choices and of who you are… 

NB: special thanks to friends and mods who provided me with content and shared with me their smart observations. If I don’t thank you by name it’s to protect you from being blocked LOL

[bestreadfanfic]

Masking Together

Summary: Simon gets home from deployment on to discover that new neighbor has moved in.

Pairings: Simon x reader

word count: 583

Warnings: n/a

A/N: This is my first time writing fanfiction so forgive me if it isn't the best. Positive feedback is welcomed. Also, reader is hinted to be black but it's really up to interpretation.

Simon and Ghost were not the same person. Sure they shared the same body but they weren’t the same person. Ghost was a soldier. He was quick-witted and assertive, but most importantly he had meaning. Simon was the opposite. He was unsociable, intimidating, and stubborn. Both Ghost and Simon had no place in the world, but at least Ghost was aware of the fact. Simon seemed to always hold on to a small amount of hope that he would one day find meaning in his life. He wanted to be needed, loved, and cared for. But he knew that it was just wishful thinking.

The end deployment marked the end of Ghost. Well, at least until he was deployed again. His break could be anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. Most people looked forward to going home. Simon wished he could say the same, but he hated it. It made him feel so useless. Day after day he would follow the same routine. Wake up, go for a run, order takeout, go to the gym, go to sleep, and repeat. 

That was until he met you at least. You were the first person to move into the apartment complex in nearly half a decade. Most of the residents were elders who preferred to keep to themselves. Not that he was complaining.

The first time that Simon saw you was when came home from a 6 month deployment. Usually, he would just come home in his uniform, but he had decided to go to the pub so he was dressed in civilian clothes. 

It was night. Simon always tried his best to come back at night. It limited his chances of having to interact with people. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one with that thought process. It was obvious that you weren’t expecting to run into anyone. You were wearing a nightgown with your hair in a bonnet. Not one of those sexy short nightgowns more like the one someone grandmother would wear.

Simon didn’t want to seem like a creep or scare you. Right now he was just staring at you through the glass doors of the apartment complex. He debated waiting for you to go back to your apartment or just go in. After standing out there for around two minutes Simon came to the conclusion that he looked like a bigger creep just standing staring at you through the window. So he decided to just go in and get it over with. 

Simon made sure to be as loud as possible when entering the building. You froze when you heard him, but didn’t turn around. Instead, you remained focused on collecting your mail. You were skimming through the mail. Which was strange in Simon’s opinion. Why didn’t you just take it all up into your apartment? As nonthreatening as could Simon approached the mailboxes and began to check his mail.

Strangely he didn’t have any mail. He always had mail whether it was bills or just junk mail, but nothing was in the mailbox. However, Simon was both too tired and too tipsy to care. Maybe his wish came true, and Simon had somehow disappeared, replaced by only Ghost. You were still just standing there going through the mail. 

Neither you nor Simon said anything as he closed and locked his mailbox. However, as Simon was heading up the stairs, he took one last glance at you and was surprised to see you staring right back at him.

[koji-haru]

Time Travel AU Part: 20

Adam eyed the angel beside him, the early rays bouncing off his porcelain skin made him appear as if he were glowing, his deep blue eyes looking so soft under the gentle light. Though his mess of a hair, strands sticking out everywhere and slightly wet with saliva, by virtue of Amora’s playfulness, kind of ruined the image of a pristine angel. But Adam felt like his eyes were either broken or he must be wearing rose coloured glasses as he could only see sublimity in front of him no matter how many times he blinked to clear his vision. 

The two were eating a bowl of mixed fruits, made from a variety of berries, bananas and kiwis, chopped and sliced a little too evenly and perfectly by a certain someone. Michael was going to do some ‘cooking’ for Adam, as the human seemed to really enjoy the resulting product, but he remembered the last time he tried, Adam ended up doing most of the work, and that didn’t seem like a good way to start…this – the chance that Adam had finally given him. At least the first man seemed to like the quick breakfast he prepared; he had read somewhere from one of Uriel’s many scrolls that these fruits were good for the human body. Michael took a spoonful of the fruit mix into his mouth, its juices a sweet harmony that coated his tongue, leaving a satisfying feeling as he swallowed it down. He couldn’t believe he actually made something that tasted good on his own, well, he didn’t make it just simply prepared it, but still! He was quite proud of himself, especially when he noticed that the object of his affections seemed to enjoy the breakfast he made as well. 

“Wouldn’t Heaven be looking for you by now?,” Adam asked suddenly, while an odd kind of warmth did bloom in his chest to have literally woken up in front of an angel and having said angel stay with him throughout the morning, he was also curious as to how the ever so busy Michael found time to spend the entire evening and morning in Eden. Did they even know where he was?

“Hmm?” Michael turned to Adam, mouth busy chewing.

“I mean, this is the longest you’ve stayed in the garden,” Adam explained.

Michael finished chewing his food first before answering, pausing briefly to consider his thoughts. “They actually might be looking for me right now…”

“Eh, then shouldn’t you go back soon?”

“It’s alright,” Michael said with a smile. “I’m sure they can forgive my missing presence for a while longer. Besides, I did say I wanted to know who you truly are.”

Adam snorted, “That’ll be your number one regret in the future for sure.” The mask he had been so comfortably wearing during his entire time in Eden was essentially off, save for a certain secret. No more acting all sweet and innocent, he was just going to be himself, one that annoyed and pushed people away, that was who he really was. See if that wouldn’t scare Michael away. Though as the thought crossed Adam’s mind, a sense of both relief and anxiety pervaded throughout his entire being. Sure, he felt relieved not having to act so nice all the time anymore, but what if his actual personality would truly push Michael away from him? Then what? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so rash and acted on his feelings; maybe he should’ve just kept wearing the stupid mask on, that way he would at least still have a friend; maybe he should’ve just outright rejected Michael, that way he wouldn’t have to worry about stupid things like this–

“Don’t say that.” Michael placed his bowl down as he moved closer towards Adam. His gentle hands wrapped around Adam’s, giving it a soothing squeeze. “What’s wrong?,” he asked after noticing the wrinkles between the first man’s brows, the way his lips downturned into a small frown, his golden eyes flooded with unease. 

“N-nothing,” Adam replied as he pulled his hands away, keeping his eyes down towards the ground. This was pathetic. He felt pathetic. “Anyway, thanks for this,” he said as he held his own bowl of fruits up. “It was nice.”

Michael felt himself deflate a little bit at Adam’s deflection, but that was alright, he was patient. “No problem at all, I’m glad you like it,” he smiled. “Though actually, I was hoping if you could teach me more about ‘cooking’?” Learning about Adam wasn’t just through talking; how he liked to do certain things, what he did in his spare time, his favourite spots in the garden – all these were also other ways for Michael to know the first man much better, especially when the door was still open for him. 

Adam eyed Michael up and down, a certain kind of scrutinising look painted plainly on his features. It was a neutral but also quite critical kind of look, in a very judging way, somewhat similar to when the other angels found out that Michael had covered up some of his brother’s antics, though Adam’s was more on the petty side. It was odd, to be looked at like that by Adam, yet also refreshing as he was discovering new things about his human. 

“Hmmm,” Adam contemplated loudly, eyes squinting a little at Michael. The few times he had attempted to teach the angel told him that Michael absolutely had no skill nor talent for the craft, but then Michael only got to try a few times. Maybe he only needed to practise more. 

“Only if you want to, of course,” Michael added. 

“I guess I could teach you some more,” Adam shrugged. What was the harm, right?

There was plenty of harm. In fact, Michael himself was the danger. 

The two stared down at the small tree and the small area that surrounded it that Michael had somehow, by some sort of miracle, managed to set in a fiery blaze. Panicked wasn’t even enough to describe what Adam had felt when he saw the tree burning red with Michael inside the very flames. Thankfully, Michael was one sturdy angel, having left the incident one hundred percent unscathed, though the same couldn’t be said about the nearby plants. The smell of burnt wood wafted in the air as thick black smoke floated up to the skies as the charred remains of the tree barely remained standing in all its scorched glory. In fact, Adam was sure the inside of the tree was still burning slightly. Before, Adam was sure he was safe in the garden, but now Michael had reminded him how close death could be.

“I, uh.” Michael wasn’t even sure how everything happened. One moment he was trying to heat up the pan so he casted a small golden flame from his fingertips to set the ‘kindling’ alight, then the next moment he was engulfed in a large flame himself. Was it the oil? No, maybe it was grease. Had he spilled them and not noticed? Either way, Adam did tell him to be mindful of it, and he thought he was being careful, but maybe holy fire wasn’t a good combination with it. 

“I guess I’ll have to replace your pans and utensils…”

—-

“Okay, no more cooking for you,” Adam declared as they, yet again, have some more fruits and nuts to eat for lunch instead. “Like, ever.”

“Oh,” Michael’s shoulders slumped down, though he understood why Adam had banned him from cooking. It did get a little dangerous, at least for Adam and the garden. That meant he could only practise in places that could withstand some damage, like Heaven. 

Adam noticed Michael deflate, and while he planned on sticking to his rule of banning the angel from cooking, he did feel a little bad; Michael really did try after all, he just didn’t have the sense for it, at least for the time being. Adam sighed, maybe he could teach him about things that were a little easier to handle instead.

“Let me tell you about this new drink I made,” Adam suggested. “It’s made with dried leaves, flowers and fruits. I think you’ll like them.”

Michael perked up at the mention of learning something new, and getting to spend more time with Adam. “Oh? What is it called?”

Adam felt an odd little warmth bloom from within his chest at seeing Michael cheering up again, though he decided not to dwell too much on it. “I’m calling it ‘tea’. It’s a nice warm beverage that helps me calm down or sleep better sometimes,” he explained as he got up from his spot ready to head somewhere. “I’ve got some stocked, I’ll just go get them. Meanwhile, can you go gather some dry wood, twigs and leaves? I need to boil some water.” He had begun walking away already when he stopped abruptly, turning back to Michael. “Oh, and don’t you dare start the fire this time!,” he shouted before quickly making his way to get some of the dried tea he had made days prior. 

By the time Adam had arrived, Michael had gathered plenty of things to be used as kindling, collected some water to be boiled, and had everything set up and ready with no fire or anything burnt in sight. Michael sat on the ground, his back towards Adam as he patiently waited for the first man to come back. His flittered ever so slightly as he hummed a soft tune to himself; his was tilted slightly down as he seemed to be focusing on something else. Adam grinned to himself, a little mischievous thought crossing his mind. With slow, careful steps, he made his way towards the unsuspecting angel. Step by step, he got closer and closer, crouched and ready to pounce in three…two…one…

“Boo!,” he yelled out as he pounced onto Michael’s back, draping his arms around the angel’s neck. “What are you doing there?,” he asked as he peered at what Michael had in hand. “Oh, that kinda looks like m–”

“Aaah!” Michael quickly wrapped his wings around him covering what he had been doing. “N-nothing! Nothing at all!,” he said, a golden tinge quickly spreading on his cheeks. 

“Nono, I’m pretty sure I saw something,” Adam grinned as he tried to pry between the feathers and look inside the wings. But as soon as he did that, a soft ‘poofing’ sound was heard from beneath the wings, and when Michael finally opened them, there was nothing inside besides from the angel himself.

“See? Nothing at all!”

Adam got off Michael as he flopped down on the grass, a pout on his lips. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that right? The flush on your face is literally giving you away.”

Michael touched his face, and yeah, it was pretty warm. “It’s just a little something…It’s not done yet so–”

“Hey, hey, I was joking. You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to,” clarified Adam. He was nosy, but not THAT nosy. “Anyway!” He triumphantly waved three small pouches in front of Michael, a faint fragrant smell emanating from it. “I’ve got our tea, cups and a pot!” 

While Adam ensured that he was the one to start the fire and boil the water, he left the four kinds of tea he made with Michael to examine and smell. Apparently, all three little bags of dried plants made different kinds of drinks. Michael was actually quite excited to try them, each smelled so differently pleasant, some were quite sweet while others had a calming effect to them. Heaven didn’t really offer a lot of choices for angels to drink, they only really had water, angel wine, and certain fruit juices, and the fruit juices were a new addition when the garden was made. So this new warm drink made with dried plants was a completely new concept to him, and he was quite happy to be one the first to try it, especially since Adam had made it. 

“Okay, so which one do you want to try first?,” asked Adam as he made his way back to Michael. The water was simmering already, and he had even smaller pouches ready to be used as tea bags. “That one is made out of dried peaches, raspberries and rose petals; that one from the leaves of Camellia sinensis; and that one from dried apples and elderflower.”

“Can’t I try them all?,” asked Michael, he really did want to try all of it.

“You can, but just one at a time,” Adam replied. “So, which one are you most curious about?”

They all sounded very interesting to Michael, and it didn’t help that they all smelled so fragrant, but he couldn’t help but be a little more curious about the one made out of leaves instead of flowers and fruits; it also smelled differently from the other two, it smelled grassy while the other two were sweet. 

“Then, can I try this one first?,” he said as he handed Adam the pouch. 

“Ooh, green tea. Personally not the biggest fan of it, but they’re great after meals.” Adam took the pouch from Michael, transferring some of its contents into an even smaller pouch before letting it steep inside the pot filled with recently boiled water. “And now, we wait for a bit.”

“And we just leave it soaking like that?,” asked Michael, curiously eyeing the steeping tea. It seemed simple enough. 

“Yup, it adds flavour to the water,” Adam answered. “Though, green tea wouldn’t have too much of a flavour to begin with.”

Michael simply hummed in response, clearly fascinated by such a simple thing. Adam found it kind of funny. Here was an archangel who was literally made from the light of stars, and lived in Heaven, he had probably seen things humans couldn’t even begin to comprehend, and yet, a simple little thing such as making tea captivated him. It was…kind of adorable, if Adam had to be honest. 

A faint grassy scent wafted from the pot, signalling that the tea was ready to be served. 

“Oh, that means it’s ready,” said Adam as he got them their cups and poured the tea into them. 

“That was quick.” Michael looked at the hot drink served to him, he could see why Adam decided to call it ‘green tea’; the liquid was of a faint green colour and it really did smell quite grassy. He pulled the cup closer to him, the mild steam passing by his face before taking a sip. 

“Ah wait! That’s very hot–,” Adam tried to reach out for Michael’s cup but was a little too late. 

“Hmm?” Michael looked up from his cup, still taking a sip of the tea. It tasted quite bittersweet, earthy and a little grassy, a mixture of flavours he never had before. He quite liked it. 

“Nevermind,” sighed Adam. He almost forgot, this was the same guy who didn’t realise he was on fire until Adam had to call out for him. Heaven borns really are freaky. “So, do you like it?,” he asked.

Michael put down his cup, still savouring the new taste on his tongue for a few more seconds before answering. “It’s odd, but I like it a lot. Can I have more?,” he asked, handing his cup over to Adam. 

“Yeah, sure sure.” Adam poured some tea into his cup. “I’m surprised you like it that much.” He took a sip of his tea before pulling it away, tongue sticking out as disgusted look appeared on his face. “Ugh, yeah, still hate it.”

“Really? Then why did you make so much in the first place?,” asked Michael while pointing at the pouch filled with dried green tea leaves. 

“There’s only so much I can do in the garden, and when I get bored, I like to get a little experimental and do things excessively,” Adam answered. “I actually have so much more stashed away. You can take the entire pouch if you want, since you like it that much.”

Michael visibly beamed up at Adam’s offer. “Can I really?”

“Yeah, go ahead, I don’t want them anyway,” Adam waved off, happy to finally have some use for the excess he made. 

As Michael took the pouch and put it inside the pocket of his robes, he felt an odd sensation in his halo as it glowed bright. Adam knew what that meant, but decided to keep his mouth shut, that was the one thing he wasn’t willing to divulge yet. 

“Something wrong?,” he decided to ask instead. 

“Oh, they’re really looking for me now in Heaven…,” answered Michael a little quietly. 

Just from the tone of his voice, Adam could tell that Michael didn’t particularly want to go back yet, and he couldn’t blame him. Heaven for all its splendour was boring as shit when you’re not a simple winner; always stacking more work onto everyone who had at least a  somewhat important role. He couldn’t even imagine how much work the poor guy had to do. Then a sudden thought crossed his mind. 

“Oh, that’s too bad. We still have the other two to try,” said Adam, shaking the pouches of tea. “I personally prefer these ones. Quite sweet, really nice.”

“Um, well…” It was almost evening, Michael was almost away from Heaven for almost a full day cycle. He really should be getting back.

“It’s quite nice to share a drink with someone.” Adam gave Michael a little sad smile, his eyes casting down, looking a little tearful. “It’s kind of sad to enjoy it alone, as I've been doing until now.”

Michael knew he really should head back to Heaven, but then he couldn’t just leave Adam alone like that, could he? Plus, he really did want to try those two other teas. His personal wants wrestled with his sense of duty, tackling each other in his mind, constantly going back and forth with both having good arguments against the other. But in the end, only one ended up victorious. Well, Michael liked to think he thought hard and carefully about his decision, but as soon as Adam gave him that sad, pitiful look, it was quite obvious to him what he was going to do. 

“Well, I guess they can wait a little longer,” he yielded, really it wasn’t even a fight. 

Adam grinned to himself. Oh how he missed getting others in trouble with him, or well, in this case he should be free from any repercussions. He was after all just a human. He made a quick silent prayer for Michael for when he finally does go back to Heaven, knowing how scary an angry Sera could be. But for the time being, he was just going to enjoy their cute little tea time.

Part 19

Part 21

[konigsluv]

MDNI!! DARK THEMES!!

LOSER!König x Drugged!Reader

Loser!König spikes your drink and fucks you in the backseat of his car.

contains: rape, non-con sex, roofied alcohol, penetration, rough sex, desperate sex, drugged!reader

a/n: this one's a bit long but I hope y'all like it :3

Loser!König was absolutely thrilled when you agreed to go out with him. He has noticed you around base, following you around, and getting jealous when you talk to other men that aren't him. Even though you've never talked to him, ever....

It was pathetic really, but he's always been pathetic. Woman have never took a liking to him; they always called him too rough, too disgusting, too fucking creepy. He was a loser when it came talking to them, stuttering over his words, and trying to turn away to hide the growing bulge in his pants. It's why he was so ashamed when he fell for you.

You being perfect.

And such a stark contrast to himself.

Soft hair, small hands, smooth skin, and the way your eyes crinkle at the edges when you smile. It was all so perfect. So can you really blame him for falling in love?

Maybe that's why, when you actually agreed, he was on cloud nine for approximately one minute before his mind spiraled.

Why would he do that?

Now he has to take you out to dinner, talk to you without stuttering, and try and convince you through subtle actions and words that he was a good man for a woman like you. But god, that would prove to be impossible.

You were just too out of his league. You only ever agreed to go on this date because you pitied the poor big fella! König thought there was no way you would agree to a second date, and a third and fourth and so on and after.

Thus, drastic times came for drastic measures. König wanted, just once, to feel your skin on his, to feel your cunt suck his cock in and squeeze it to hell- and he was going to get it.

Before you realized who he truly was...

König pulled out your chair for when you sat down, his hands shaking as he got a whiff of the nice perfume you were wearing. He then sat in his own seat, it creaking from his large stature.

"You uhm- look lovely tonight," He says, a crooked smile creeping onto his face.

You smile politely at him, "Thank you, it's a new dress." you accept the compliment, "I also see that you've cleaned yourself up for the night,"

You know who he is, Colonel König around base, but you never would have suspected he was interested in you. Much less he clean up his look and actually wear something nice.

König gave a small dry laugh to your comment, "Ah, yes, I have....." he then glanced down to the white empty plate sitting in front of him.

This was awkward. He didn't know what to say! Oh god, he's going to ruin the night isn't he?!

You clear your throat and look around, flagging down a waiter and ordering a bottle of wine for the table.

"You okay with red wine? I drink it to ease my nerves sometimes," you say softly, subtly trying to reassure him that's it's okay to be nervous and to loosen up a bit.

König nodded, "Yeah, yea, that's uh- red wine is fine," he's never once indulged himself with the dark red liquid.

Tapping your nails against the table you inhaled heavily, "So, do you come here often?" referring to the restaurant.

"No I," he paused for a moment, thinking about his words so he doesn't stutter, "I don't. But I thought you would like it since it's-" he looked around, "you know, like fancy,"

You laugh softly and didn't even notice his sharp intake of breath as he focused mostly on trying not to get hard. The sound of your laugh sent heat rush to his groin; he wanted to be the one that made you laugh.

"Yes, it is nice in here. I do like it if you were wondering."

König nodded then sighed, bouncing his leg under the table. He was barely listening to what you were saying. He's sorry, but he's got other things to focus on. Like the little bag of pills in the pocket of his pants.

Just then, the waiter came back and set two wine glasses down and poured the red wine into them before setting the bottle between them on the table.

"Enjoy your evening," he says then walks away.

König clenched his jaw tightly when he watched you bring the glass up to your lips and take a small sip. He was so fucking anxious, was his plan even going to work?....

Dinner went on as normal, well, as normal as it could be with a guy like him. With every question you asked he would give one sentence responses. It kind of bummed you out because he was the one that asked you out in the first place. The man didn't seem interested in you at all.

Sighing, and finishing your meal you strand up, "Excuse me, i'm going to go refresh myself," you say then walk to the ladies room.

König watched as you disappeared down a hall then looked around anxiously to see if anyone was nearby and watching him. Once he realized the coast was clear he shoved his hand into the pocket and pulled out the small bag. He fumbled with it, his large fingers making it more difficult to grab and open it. Or maybe it was because he was shaking.

He kept glancing over his shoulder, waiting to see you standing directly behind him and staring at him with disgust. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but schatz, he needed you- and as much as he loved you, he couldn't trust you to let him touch you.

That's why he's somewhat- no, fully obligated to do this.

König leaned over the table, dropping the small white pill into your red wine and watching it dissolve. He then sat back in his chair, staring at the glass with darkened eyes.

He actually felt relieved, he done it without getting caught- and just one sip of that wine would make you delirious. Clenching his fists, he glanced back over his shoulder to see you walking back from the bathroom. God, he was so fucking nervous but also so excited to have you, to taste you.

"I'm back," you say, sitting back down with a small smile, "Have we gotten the check yet?"

König blinks, "Ja, I took care of it,"

"Oh, thank you," you then stand up, patting down your dress for no apparent reason, "Ready to go?"

He panics.

"Aren't you going to finish your drink?" He says quickly. You glance down at the wine then let out a small amuses huff from your nose.

"You're right," you pick up the glass, bringing it to your lips, and he watched with dark eyes as you took two gulps of it before setting it back down.

"Thanks for dinner," you say as he stands up.

"No need to thank me," he replies. After all, he'll be getting his thanks soon enough...

It wasn't long until you two were walking to his car when you stumbled slightly, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself. Your brows furrow together and you bring your hand to your forehead, groaning.

"Is something wrong?"

Glancing up, there were, what seemed to be two König's staring down at you. You squinted your eyes, trying to focus on one but it was blurry, "I had... had a bit to drink," you say slowly and he nods.

"Come on, let's get you back to the car, then you can rest," He wraps his arm around your backside, firmly grasping your waist as he held you up until you guys got to his car. You slumped against it as he unlocked and opened the backseat.

"Here schatz, ruhe diche jetze aus..."

Your eyes dolled back into your head as you tried to speak, but only quiet slurs of deformed words came from your swollen lips. Your whole body felt like lead as you tried lifting your head to see what felt so hot between your legs.

"so good..." König mumbled into your cunt as he lapped up the slick that pooled out of you, "you're so good liebling..."

His large hands gripped your thighs, kneading them under his calloused palms as his slippery tongue slid in and out of you before grazing over your swollen clit. He sucked the bead into his mouth, savagely moving his head from side to side as he growled into your pussy.

"no...." you mewled weakly, "sst..." you managed strength to lift your hand, but you could barely do anything when you tried pushing his head away. König just groaned into your cunt as he felt your hand grab onto his hair.

You liked this schatz, didn't you?

Why else would you be moaning for him? Grabbing his hair? Getting even more wet when his tongue was doing its best you clean you up?

"so needy," he cooed, spitting onto your pussy and watching the saliva run down your folds, "I'll take good care you of you, schatz. kein grund zur sorge,"

König then pulled away, running his hands down your legs before moving them up towards your entrance. He slipped his middle finger inside of you and groaned at the sight of your cunt sucking him in desperately.

Soft moans dribbled out of your mouth as König slides another digit into your leaking pussy.

"sto...p," you manage to say, your voice cracked and tired. God, you felt exhausted, so fuzzy and dizzy.

It didn't take him long to drive you to an orgasm, your whole body tensing, your back arching up and your eyes rolling into the back of your head- losing consciousness.

It was only when your head bumped repeatedly against the car door as he shoved his fat cock in and out of you that you regained consciousness.

One of his hands was placing at the base of you throat, squeezing, while the other was gripping onto the edge of the seat.

"Oh je, du bist so verdammt eng, es fühlt sich so gut an," he whines as he bucks his hip into you. König didn't even have a technique, just mindlessly thrusting his too big cock into you at a relentless pace. You swore that every other second you blanked or blacked out.

"-urts!" you cried, choked gasps coming from your mouth as you tried to control your breathing, "h-hurts!..."

König groaned as he slowed his pace, now dragging his cock slowly in and out of your right wet cunt. The hand on your throat reaches up and he brushed his fingers against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

"m'sorry schatz, I didn't think about your head...." he cooed before grabbing your waist firmly and manhandling you into a different position.

Now you were sitting on top of him, his length stuffing you full until his tip was kissing your cervix. It was painful, but there were slight shocks of pleasure that kind your mind blank. You were so fucking out of it you could barely tell what was happening- which direction you were facing....

His hand cupped the back on your head, bringing your face into the crook of his neck as his other hand caresses your bare side.

"is that better?..." he whispered into your ear before grabbing your hips and fucking up into your sloppy wet cunt.

God maus, you felt so fucking good. After this one taste, how was he supposed live normally?

Your body went limp; small incoherent mumbles and whimpers sounding from your swollen lips. König loved it, every second of it. Your delirious state just convinced him that it was him making you feel like this. It was his cock that was causing you to black out from pleasure....

"i'm so close, so close to cumming in you. ich werde dich mit meinem sperma füllen," he says desperately as he bucked his hips up ruthlessly.

It only takes a couple of more clumsy, sloppy thrusts for him to be releasing inside of you- filling you with his creamy seed. There was so much it seeped out of your hole, coating his cock in a milky substance and forming a sticky ring at the base of his shaft.

"I love you- ich liebe dich so sehr, I love you," he whispered, caressing your hair and tangling his hands in it. You were long gone by now, having passed out from the sheer overstimulation- mixed with the drugs of course....

"So good.... did you like it too?" König asked breathlessly and when you didn't respond he simply chuckled.

"It's okay little maus, i'll let you rest.... you probably need it for the amount of times i'll be fucking you."

please do not copy or repost on any platforms without my permission

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

[lovesuhng]

blah blah blah

established relationship, fluff

Dating Johnny meant knowing you’d go on all kinds of dates—sometimes doing some of your hobbies, other times his. Occasionally, you’d try new things together, willing to take risks, even if you’d sometimes end up asking yourselves, “Why did we even decide to do this?” But in the end, you’d always have fun regardless. You loved spending time together.

Today was one of those simple dates. Johnny had found a restaurant and was eager to take you there. It was a bit of an old-fashioned place but very cozy. You even teased Johnny, saying he was wearing that beret to "get into the spirit of the place." He made an exaggerated gesture with the beret as if to thank you for the “compliment,” and you just laughed, giving him a playful pat on the arm and calling him “silly” in a loving way, of course.

Since he’d already reviewed the menu and knew your tastes better than anyone, Johnny placed the orders as soon as you both sat down, making sure to also order wine, remembering that you had mentioned missing a good glass of wine a few days ago.

Wine was one of Johnny’s biggest interests. You knew this passion of his well; after all, he always said he only needed three things to stay alive: wine, coffee and you. It was fascinating that every time you went to a restaurant, Johnny would ask the waiter detailed questions about the wines on the menu, as he was doing now. He wanted to know about the age, acidity, sweetness level, alcohol percentage, origin and if that wasn’t enough, he’d even write down the name to look up more information later.

It was turning out to be a very pleasant evening. The food was delicious, the atmosphere was perfect and having your boyfriend by your side made everything feel complete. After eating, the two of you lingered, sipping wine and chatting about all kinds of things. You were on your third glass, while Johnny was halfway through his second, savoring it slowly since he was really enjoying it.

That’s when he started explaining a few things about wine tasting to you. He was so focused yet excited, sharing everything he knew with you, but all you could focus on was how much more attractive he looked talking about these things. You felt like you were living that “blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff” meme. Johnny noticed when you began smiling at him in that dreamy way.

“Are you even listening to me, love?”

“Johnny.”

“Hm?”

“Do you realize how attractive you look talking about wine?”

Johnny’s laugh echoed through the restaurant and you couldn’t help but smile too.

“Oh, really?” You just nodded, agreeing with him. Then, Johnny took your hand resting on the table, gently caressing it. “Well then, how about we go home, and I show you another way I’m attractive?”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly signaled for the waiter to bring the check, which got another laugh out of your boyfriend.

Your spontaneity was one of the things Johnny loved most about you, and it was in simple moments like these that he realized he had found the right person to share all the adventures with.

[pureshoney]

"i can be a really good girl when i want to be, you know that, daddy. you also know i just rarely want to be," he points out knowingly. it was confirmed that dylan could behave when she wanted to, but even she knows better than to think she could remain entirely quiet while getting fucked by keenan. she's arguing for the sake of arguing. "when have i ever not been serious about wanting you to fuck me somewhere? keenan, you know that you could do whatever the fuck you want, and i'd still say please and thank you …" because whatever crazy fantasy he had, the blonde probably had one just as intense as his. "red lace is. any outfit requests? or is that up to me?" maybe she could wear a slutty checkered mini skirt and a half-undone button-up shirt to really sell the image of someone who'd be in a damn library, tack on some oversized glasses too. "i think it's only fair if you tell me ahead of time what level of brat i need to reach for you to take it away from me so i can make sure i don't get to that level," offers in rebuttal but knowing she most likely won't get the answer she wants. "oh they'll be fucking fine, they're all jealous anyways," probably shouldn't be talking about her friends in that way. still, they were. as much as they didn't like keenan because of the money disparity, they all wished their boyfriends gave them as much attention as he did dylan. "i don't know, but in my defense … i work on my phone too so that will be skewed! it's at least seven hours a day, though," she admits, letting a nonchalant shrug roll off her shoulders. "i look at cute cats and dogs, too; it's not always the sexy snake man. i promise i look at your pictures on my phone more," teases with a playful giggle. "not even a nightgown? i could wear those big grandma ones … i have to be comfortable when i'm going to sleep you know. i can't be sexy for you all the time," hums as her right hand reaches forward to rub his hard-on from over his pants, smirking up at her man at the realization of just how hard he was given the fact that she hadn't even touched him until now. mouth hangs wide open, nodding her head enthusiastically. "yes, yes … i love it," hips roll in loose circles in an attempt to get more friction from his digit, wet hole clenching around nothing. blonde sucks in a sharp breath when mouth envelopes hardened nipple, "daddy," whimpers as he sucks the cream off the skin of her breasts. shoots him a look through long lashes, beginning to rub him faster through the material of his trousers. if he wanted to be a tease, so could she. "mhm … aside from your dick," she's shaking the can in anticipation of his response, immediately complying and pouring a line down the side of her neck. "what about here too?" slowly brings the can toward her legs once more, spraying some over the upper part of her cunt and down toward his digit that was still working against her clit. "i know you fuckin' love eating my pussy too."

"good enough to avoid a librarian chasing us out of their sanctuary? i'm not convinced, princess. you love my dick too much to be quiet while i'm fucking you with it." his words were tinged with smugness because it was the truth in keenan's mind, she was addicted to him and he was addicted to her. "if you're really serious about being railed in a library we're gonna have to train you, practice gagging your filthy mouth and keeping the noise down." it would be difficult for him too, her cunt fit him so perfectly, he was bound to let a few groans slip free as he stretched her. "lace too, red lace dyl", homme adds with a serious nod, already picturing how pretty she'd look with them stuffed inside her mouth, tickling her tongue as she bit down on them. he might just have to prop his phone up amongst those books and record the salacious activity. "hey, i don't want to take your prized possession away — but if you push me far enough baby i have to punish you. it's only fair, you're not gonna learn any other way." wonders just how frustrated she would become, if she would actually hump her own expensive furniture to feel that pressure build inside of her. "if you say so, princess. just know, if you ever do get to that stage i'll take it away and make you beg for it, make you film yourself fucking your own furniture to prove that you need it back badly enough." she can throw that sexy pout at him until the sun rises and he'll still remain true to his word. "they might faint on the spot if they get a look at my dick, do you want to be responsible for putting them in hospital?", jokes as a chuckle escapes, although he isn't opposed to sneaking his hand under one of her tiny skirts or dresses and fucking her that way. "just out of curiosity, what's your weekly screen time average? 'cause with the shit you're throwing out i'm guessing it's in the double digits?" can't say it isn't amusing though, how she tosses out random facts that have him lost for words. "i just look at cute cats and dogs struggling to get down off couches", homme playfully remarks, grinning as he shrugs. "typical all american good guy things, you know?" although in truth, those videos did tug on his heartstrings a little bit. "if you do i'll just rip it off you princess, i don't care where we are if i see you wearing a shapeless dress that hides that body i'll go insane — you're too sexy to be pulling that shit." emotions had always been difficult for him to grasp, he always felt things so intensely -- whether it was hate or love, he tended to be cautious around other people, a lesson learned from loving his mother only to end up with her dead at the hands of the one person he hated more than anything. but with dylan it was so fucking easy to be himself, to fall into comfort around her — she made him happy. there was no denying the fact that he was falling in love with her. but he was terrified to admit it. "like that, princess?" smirks as he plays with her clit, slowly rolling his digit across that swollen bundle of nerves. so badly wants to sink himself inside her right this second, yet refrains for the sake of having some messy fun. "you're always a big fucking mess for me, baby. don't lie." mouth engulfs one perky nipple, tongue flicking against it as he swallows a mouthful of sweetened cream. "mm", lips leave her hardened bud with a soft pop, "aside from my dick?" male coyly comments, "how about on your neck? i fuckin' love marking you up princess, squirt some down the side of it for daddy to lick up."

[lokh]

mom avoids dead anime mom curse because he transitions. he’s always had a complicated relationship with pregnancy because of how woefully little people are told about potential complications and aftercare, and also because of how gendered it is, so after the birth of his second child he’s finally had it and decides to transition

he joins a local community group for mothers and at first it’s played for laughs how often they fall to the dead mom curse, but soon we find out more about how society has failed mothers and people who give birth, from information being withheld, procedures being carried out without consent, lack of accommodations and maternal and paternal leave, racism…

it also turns out that becoming a man doesn’t help with this, not really, because being a pregnant trans man brings its own problems. follow along as he learns more about being a parent and a mother, and maybe even… finding love???

coming to you never because I can’t write!