#it would slap so hard to have that man try to crawl back yet again so i can be like you know what man sure. ill pay attention to you

[hofftrans]

Hard to explain to my cis friends that yes I would actively consider sleeping w most of my shitty dude exes but only bc now I've transitioned I'm taller, stronger and more masc then the lot of them and my 'once-a-sub-now-a-gay-sadist' ass needs to emasculate and hate peg some men

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT ⚠️

SUBJUGATORS 💦 NARUMI X F! READER X HOSHINA ＫINKTOBER DAY 16: CNC ⚠️

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. i would give my left foot for cnc with hoshina or narumi for your kinktober 🤩 🐙 a/n: I READ HOSHINA AND NARUMI instead of OR. So yeah, I'M SORRY, i guess my subconscious won hahaha. Anyway I hope you enjoy it the same!!! ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. HARD KINK: consented non con. please, do not read if it's triggering or not your cup of tea. I understand it is a very polemic kink, but not in a million years I'd say it's hot to get raped. This is just pre consented by three totally conscious adults that enjoy roleplay (it is explicitly stated at the very end, and with little hints all throughout the fic). cnc, kinda humilliation, dp implied. oral. vag. kinda fear wetting (piss). 🐙 wc: 1.2k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

Slam! Your body gets smashed against the wall. A pair of hands crawl everywhere; your flesh getting squeezed, your head being pushed and pinned against hard cement. 

“Wandering all by yourself, love?” a raspy voice whispers into your ear; you can tell there are hints of laziness in it, but most definitely desire as well. 

You try to let go, using all your strength to free yourself. Fighting to escape, you push that man that came out of the darkness, away. 

“Oops, where are you going?” another voice, that also came out of nowhere, exclaims. You are stopped by a strong hand crushing your wrist. 

Immediately after; those first hands trap you again. You are surrounded by two men who somehow start fighting in between them.

“You let her go… are you becoming weak Nar-?” one of them, with slanted -pretty much closed- eyes, tease the other one. 

“You shitty bowl cut bitch” the other one, with black and grey tufts, grunts.

Yet, despite their bickering you are unable to run away as both are extremely strong. No matter how much you squirm, kick or move, you can’t escape from their claws… 

“Let me go!” you scream, getting muffled almost immediately but the bowl cut guy with his hand on your mouth. 

“Shh, babe… you are not allowed to scream” he says, opening his eyes to burn holes into yours, a purple aura as strong as his grip… beautiful irises for such a devilishly man. 

“He is right, love… we wouldn’t want the rest to hear you while we use your wholes, nobody will come to rescue you either…” the other man murmurs in your ear from behind, biting your lobe right after. His accelerated breathing shows how hard is getting by simply grabbing your trembling body. 

You, in fact, shiver. Frightened; this Halloween party shouldn’t have ended this way… you should have listened to your friends, Soshiro and Narumi, when they told you to wait for them.

“Aren’t you a little slut? What are you? a witch? A demon? Wearing that short little skirt for us? Mh?” the bowl cut guy asks, sliding his hand underneath your -indeed pretty short- skirt. 

You can’t help but smirk a little, soon remembering the situation you are actually in… “Stop! Let me go!” you cry, earning a soft slap on your mouth to shush you. 

Not only do your lips become a little swollen from that raspier voiced man’s slap, but they also suddenly drag you to a very -conveniently placed- abandoned warehouse from the base. 

Old mattresses scattered on the floor; pieces of beds and old furniture from the base rooms are also abandoned. Tachikawa is a pretty big facility, there must be a lot of these warehouses around… 

The slanted eyed man snatches your body from his partner in crime and pushes you against one of the mattresses. You fall with your back, showing your little white laced panties to them… what a great choice for Halloween night. 

“Look at this slut, already showing us her wet cunt” he spits, elbowing the grey- and black-haired man, showing a smirk with a pair of prominent fangs… he looks like a feral fox… 

Both smirk to each other, and for a second they might forget how much of a deadly enemy they consider themselves to be. 

The first to attack, seems to be the faster of them two; a feral fox that’s also quick in their movements. His hands, rather small and delicate but definitely strong, rip your upper part… goodbye to that beautiful costume you spent hours preparing for tonight. 

His fangs seem hungry for your breasts, for your neck, for your flesh. And so, while pinning you -as if your fighting meant nothing- he attacks. His fangs carve marks everywhere they bite, leaving painful reminders of his dominance, of the crime of using your body against your desires.

“Ah ah… come on, I want a piece of her too” the other one grunts, this time a lot calmer and somehow lazy… but still so filled with lust. 

The “feral fox” allows him to join. He stands up and pinches your cheeks before doing anything else to communicate their intentions -as if they weren’t clear from the very start- “On all fours, let’s keep that mouth occupied while you get your pussy r*ped” 

You gasp as you are forced to turn and stand on all fours; your inner thighs tremble, your lower belly spasm… “no… please…” you cry, fighting the hands on your back that try to at least move your panties to the side.

“Calm the fuck down, bitch… you want it or not, I’m gonna fuck your tight cunt anyways” 

A few spanks on your ass leave your skin burning, and for the moments you become still from the pain the black and grey hair man is able to finally slide a couple of fingers into your entrance. 

You try to turn around to see him; to perhaps try and push him away, or maybe just maybe to enjoy the lustful look in those tired eyes… But you are actually unable to do so, as the prominent fangs boy grab your neck and mandible to force your mouth to open.

“Open big for me, ok? Let's use that beautiful mouth of you” he growls, using his index to lower your tongue and make you gag before replacing it with his hard, drippy, throbbing sex. 

You, in fact, gag and cough. He goes in and out, fucking your mouth with no mercy and a smile that could belong to the Devil himself. 

“Come on… deep” he purrs, going even deeper, watching you beg for air, watching tears roll down your cheek from how much he is forcing his tip onto your uvula. 

You fix your pleading, desperate eyes on his… barely sounds escape your throat while being used. You are trembling in pure terror, but even more when you can feel a warm tip getting dangerously close to your folds. 

“Heh, absolutely wet and still crying? Stop acting as if you didn’t like this, slut” that lazy voice that comes from behind, scolds you, before even sliding in. 

And when he does, he does with such strong thrust you are sure you could have pissed yourself a little bit… degrading yourself, by having your throat completely ruined by an impetuous dick going in and out of you, by getting your legs and sneakers wet in urine and arousal, and by getting your sex penetrated against your will… really against? 

“Ah, look at that… you disgusting whore, you can’t even hold it in when someone is using your cunt? Heh” he continues, going in and out even harder and faster. This time you can totally sense the complicity in between your two victimizers… 

Victimizers that have stopped fighting to coordinate the rams on both of your sides. One on your mouth, the other on your sex… what a mess, you are just a mess. 

“Narumi, move, it’s my turn” the foxy looking one says as he takes his dick out of your mouth. 

You cough, trying to clean the saliva on the commissures of your mouth and the taste of precum flooding your throat.

“YOU IDIOT” Narumi grunts, he has just revealed his name. 

“I can’t keep playing, let me fuck you (Name), please…” Soshiro suddenly says, the three of you have already lost your roles as lust and climaxing begins to kick in.

“Why don’t you fuck me at the same time?”  “These games of yours, (Name)… aren’t you a little bit of a perv?”  “It’s you two who are forcing me, aren’t you?” “Yes my queen…” “Yep, my lady” 

Oh, and by the way, I am a zombie bride… not a demon, nor a witch! 

[of-a-darkness-untold]

The Devil Looks So Pretty When He´s You

My Secret Santa gift for @naughtygobbo, I really hope you like it 💕

Dabi x fem!reader

Navi.

Warnings: mdni can be read as (questinable) cnc or dub/noncon, praise and degradation, one slap against reader's thigh (light slaps against her pussy), he calls her names (e.g. slut and whore), barely any aftercare like honestly just like cuddling the reader after potentially traumatising her (but at least there's some aftercare ig), lots of crying (incl. a little bit of crying afterwards), dacryphilia (only during sex though), a bit of a toxic relationship this one

Notes: this is for @ectologia 's secret santa event. Thank you for letting me participate 💕

Wordcount: 1.5k

He was Lucifer incarnate. A heart burned in his chest with such ferocity that it could consume whole cities, and his face seemed an artist´s dream chiselled unto marble. Whoever had created him, must have looked unto Icarus´ graceful fall; a face full of sublime and captivating anguish; and thus, had made him the one you now call your love.

And yet, with all his beauty, and his pain and his adoration for you, he was so cruel.

His tongue on your heat made you gasp, and it felt so good you thought you were dying. Of course it felt good. No one but him could make you feel like you were transcended. But still, your lashes caught on tears, and you blinked them away, scared of what he would do if he noticed them. He'd love them, in the same twisted way that he loved you.

You bit your lower lip to suppress a sob threatening to break out. Did you really want this? There was a memory trying to break through your clouded mind, but when his fingers pressed inside you, it fled again.

Only slowly did they return: hazy images of you trying to fight his grip on you as he had pulled you to your shared bedroom. You were unsure, but you could swear you had cried out when he had pounced on you like a man starved.

Then again, did you really care when he looked so beautiful between your legs?

Finally, your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm rippled through your body. He hummed appreciatively against you core and the vibrations sent shots of unbearable pleasure through you.

"No, stop, s'too much," you mumbled, trying to push his head away.

“No, stop, s´too much,” Dabi mocked you. He slapped your thigh and you froze, but his grin only darkened. Your heart sped up, pounding so hard you had to press your hands against your chest to calm yourself.

"C´mon, you were so cute just now, baby, don't you fucking ruin this for me," he rasped.

"M'sorry."

"Naw, of course you are." He crawled up your body to pinch your cheeks mockingly. “My baby´s always fucking sorry, isn´t she?”

Your breath hitched at the sight above you. Even with how he was treating you now, he was beautiful to you. He forever would be. You couldn´t help but simply stare at him.

“Hey, you still here?” He tapped your face. "C´mon dollface, want you to be present when I fuck you."

You pouted and shook your head.

"I'm tired, Dabi."

He shrugged.

"I don't care. You'll take it like the good girl you are, hm?" he cooed condescendingly. Gently, he spread you lower lips to guide his cock against your twitching hole. At first, he only rubbed himself against your cunt, watching amused as you squirmed and whined at the sensation. Only when he had his fill did he start to press into you with a low groan.

"No, Dabi," you whined, eyes squeezing shut again at the sensation of his length stuffing you full.

"Fuck, just like that." He completely ignored your whines, pushing deeper and deeper until he had finally reached as deep as he could get. A satisfied rumble emanated from his chest.

Finally, he spared you a quick glance and he couldn´t help but chuckle at the pitiful sight in front of him.

"Ah, you're too good to me, baby," he told you, wolfishly grinning at the wince you let out once he rolled his hips against you.

He settled for slow and deep movements, just how he knew you liked - on other days, at least. Appreciative hums escaped his lips with every inward thrust, his head nearly lolling forward with how your walls gripped him just right.

He frowned when he saw how your eyebrows were furrowed and your eyes squeezed shut, little droplets running down from them.

"C'mon baby look at me," he murmured, gently brushing away some of your tears, "'s no fun fucking you if you're not really there." He kissed your wet cheeks - "s´it really that bad?" You bit your lips and nodded. "Can't really blame me though, can you? Can´t blame me for having my way with you, hm?" His fingers found your clit, stroking in tandem with his thrusts, "-you just look so fucking cute when you're helpless. You know that."

A moan escaped you and he couldn't help but speed up, his hips finding yours in rhythmic slaps that drove you closer and closer to your orgasm. Grunts left his lips every time he drove his cock into your heat.

Dabi only slowed down when your back arched and a cry left your lips. However, as cruel as he was, the break he granted you was brief at best. He thrived on your sweetest of agonies, aching to see you break - die - for him over and over again. Just á la petite mort.

He gently smacked your clit a few times and the torturous touch sent shivers down your spine. A broken sound somewhere between a sob and a moan left your lips and Dabi seemed to understand it as a sign that you enjoyed what he was doing.

 "You know, you're not supposed to like it," he said, tilting his head to the side. "Thought you didn´t want this, slut?"

He didn´t give you any time to reply or defend yourself. Instead, he crammed himself even deeper into you and began to move again. This time, he settled for a gruesome pace aiming to utterly break you. He all but rutted into you, hard and unforgiving, every stroke so deep you swore you felt him in your throat. You gasped, eyes wide as you could do nothing but take what he gave you, body jolting with every forceful buck of his hips. Dabi threw his head back and let out a long and guttural moan.

"Oh, fuck yeah. Just like that."

"No, Dabi," you cried, having finally found your voice again.

"Huh?" he looked down at you, eyes unfocused. Tears streamed down your face, but you could only feel him get harder at the sight. "You look so much prettier like this, you know," he murmured softly, and he leaned down to kiss you all over your face. All the while, his pace did not falter, he even seemed to have gotten more desperate.

Then, his thrusts became erratic. His brows were furrowed as he concentrated on driving his cock into you as deep and precisely as he could. He drew out choked gasps from you with every harsh snap of his hips, the sound giving him the push he needed. His head fell forward, his lips mouthing at your neck as he pounded into you - your hips creating heavy, wet slaps. He grunted with every thrust until, finally, he came with a low groan right against your ear. You sobbed when you felt him fill you with his hot cum.

For a moment, everything was calm. His weight lay heavy on you, sticky skin pressed tightly against sticky skin, and you moved, feeling uncomfortable.

"Fucking stay still," he rasped, delivering one last thrust to reprimand you. Your body tensed, yet you immediately forced yourself to relax underneath him. However, you couldn´t help your little trembles as a few tears still rolled down your cheek.

You laid there entangled for a few minutes until Dabi finally lifted himself up with a groan. He patted your cheek appreciatively, but halted his movement when he felt the wet on your cheeks.

"Wait, are you actually crying?" he murmured, frowning. You shook your head with a sniffle. "Aww, baby, c'mere. Can´t have my pretty baby crying, hm?" he cooed at you. Carefully, he pulled out of you, and you flinched when your entrance let him go with a wet pop.

He moved your body without a word, making you rest against his chest while he caressed you exposed skin.

“Was I really too hard on you, doll?”

A nod was all he got. He placed a hand on your head – heavy and comforting – and started humming to slowly nurse you to sleep.

He did not say a word – what would he even say? That he was sorry, when you felt so good around him? That he was sorry, when he knew you had felt good too? Never. – So, all he did was caress you and let you cuddle deeper into his embrace, because at the end of the day you knew him to be warm and safe. Not safe for you, but at least he would keep you safe from everything else.

Only when night had fallen completely and the air was still, did he speak again, lips pressed against your cheek.

"You're way too fucking good to me, you know that doll?" he whispered, comforted by your body resting peacefully on his. "But I´m gonna break you again when you wake up, okay?" He licked his lips in anticipation, "A pretty whore like you should be able to take it, right?"

[neteyamssyulang]

Praise/Degradation

Day 28

Pairing: Aonung aged up x Fem tawtute reader

*Lets say for this story, humans can breath pandora air*

Summary: Moving to awa’atlu was difficult since you were human but Tonowari allowed it as you were no threat. Aonung had made it known he despised you any chance he got but keep down he somehow wanted you.

Warnings: Dom Aonung, Sub Reader, Bully Aonung, P in V, Belly bulge, Semi bratty reader at first.

Word count: 772

Translation(s): Vrrtep -> Demon, Hì'i evenge -> Little girl.

A/N: I think I did a pretty well with this <3

Tags: @teyamsatan @pandoraslxna <3

Being human was to say hard, unlike being with the Omaticaya people the Metkayina were rude throwing insults left and right if you crossed paths with them.

You know it's because humans have destroyed their home and even if you weren't like those people they still despised you.

But none despised you more than Aonung, the Olo'eyktans son. He would insult you every chance he got and would humiliate you infront of everyone.

You sat with Tsireya in her marui helping make new beaded tops since she insisted you wear traditional na'vi clothing.

Tsireya was your only friend besides Rotxo, they warmed up to you quickly after realizing you were harmless. Aonung never did and still ridiculed his baby sister for being friends with a sky demon.

Speak of the akula "Sister our parents need you, now" Aonung says as he walks through the flaps of the marui.

Tsireya sighed setting down the materials before standing up facing her brother "Ok I'll go, y/n you can stay here if you want" she bid you goodbye then walked out the marui towards her parents marui.

You ignored Aonung's burning gaze keeping your focus on the top, "You do not belong here vrrtep, leave" he hisses.

Looking up towards him you raise an eyebrow "Yeah? What else is new? You say that everyday like it's going to magically make me disappear."

A growl rumbles through him as he stalks towards you "I wish it would, that way I no longer have to deal with you."

Scoffing you roll your eyes "I have done NOTHING to you and yet you treat me like this. I get you hate humans for what they have done but I am nothing like them."

Before you have a chance to speak again your body is pinned to the ground with Aonung ontop of you baring his fangs "Shut your little mouth vrrtep!"

A small whimper leaves your lips as you feel wetness pooling in your panties. Aonung suddenly stiffs as your arousal invades his nostrils.

It was at this moment she knew, she fucked up.

"The little slut enjoys this?" He taunts sitting up now, "Strip for me vrrtep."

Rolling your eyes you sit up only to grab the fish Tsireya was going to cook later and slapped him across the face with it.

"Did you just slap me with a fish?" The na'vi asked while glaring daggers through you. "I did and I'll do it again, I'm not stripping for you fishlips"

That was the last straw, in an instant Aonung had ripped off your pants along with your panties and shirt. You cursed yourself for not wearing a bra today.

The metkayina then took off his own loincloth and pushed you to lay on your back while he crawled ontop of you. "You'll be a good little demon yes?" He purrs lining his dick with your soaked hole.

"Aonung wa-!" A high pitched scream leaves your mouth as he starts pushing inside you, inch by inch you can feel his cock drag against your gummy walls.

The na'vi grits his teeth trying to focus on not cumming so soon but shit you felt so tight around him.

You admit the stretch was painful as hell but it subsided with pleasure after awhile, by this point Aonung should've bottomed out but he didn't.

As if reading your mind he chuckled "You can't take all of me hì'i evenge, look how deep I already am inside you"

Your gaze goes from him to your stomach where a buldge is already starting to show. You move your hips up to create some friction "Aonung please.."

"Alright vrrtep” the teal man grins before pulling away only to slam back inside. You’ve never felt so full in your entire life, eywa he felt so amazing.

With each thrust he knocks the breath out of your lungs, you can tell though that he’s holding back from plunging his entire length into you and fucking you completely senseless.

“Fuck..should’ve done this a long time ago..” he groans above you “Such a good girl y/n..”

Your too fucked out to even process what he just said, your mewls fill his ears as he lays a hand on your stomach pressing down on the bulge.

Immediately a scream leaves you as you cum hard squirting on his stomach and thighs, your walls fluttered around him making you feel even tighter around his cock.

His thrusts became sloppy so you knew he was getting close “Eywa y/n.. Now that I had you I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go”

[ninyard]

inspired by the last anon: do you have any unhinged kevin hc's?

(cw; abuse, sh, briefly) (this isn't a headcanon at all really. more of an au i guess. just thoughts. just a little what if?)

The sight of blood makes Kevin feels sick, not necessarily because it reminds him of his injury - though that's a big factor - but because it reminds him of what he is capable of, and some of the things he did with Riko by his side. When Neil's father cut up that man in that room - Kevin was there. Riko was there, too, of course, but Kevin has been around death and violence for a very, very long time.

Teenage boys are young and stupid and impressionable, and maybe there was a point where Kevin fought back and matched the pain Riko inflicted on him, at least until Riko went through puberty and became stronger, more evil, more interested in truly hurting Kevin than just having "fun".

Think of them being twelve, and Riko has just drawn lines into his own legs because he likes how it feels to bleed, to be in pain, and him and Kevin are sat on the floor of their bedroom. Riko hands Kevin the knife, and tells him to do it. On myself? Kevin asks, but Riko guides the point to his own skin. Kevin tells him to stop, but when he flinches at the sight of Riko's blood, Riko grabs his hair and asks him if he can see how good it feels to make someone bleed.

But then think of them a little bit older, and Kevin is on his bed, and as Riko crawls up towards him, he kicks him hard in the chest, so hard that he ends up winded and sits at the end of the bed, cursing him in Japanese until he can breathe again. One time Riko puts his fingers into Kevin's mouth, and Kevin bites down hard enough to break skin. He spits in Riko's face as he recoils, and Riko slaps him hard enough to leave a mark. They're young enough at this point that Kevin has not yet become truly afraid or aware of what Riko is truly capable of. So maybe one time, he pins Riko down, his hands above his head held down by his wrists, his free hand wrapped around Riko's throat, and for just a moment, Kevin wonders what it would feel like to watch the life leave his eyes. Riko has done this to him enough times that Kevin wants to know what it feels like, to hurt someone like this, to wrap his hands about their throat and feel them desperately try to find a way free. Riko's face gets redder and redder, and he's struggling under his weight, struggling harder the longer it all goes on. Kevin regrets it when he lets go, and Riko is too quick with his punches. Kevin regrets it when Riko does the same thing to him, but until he loses enough oxygen that he passes out, until he's unconscious and Riko has bound his hands to carve his name into Kevin's skin.

What if there was a point where Kevin had the strength in him to fight Riko? What if, for a short time, they fought like they were equals? Before Riko's abuse "became" abuse, before Kevin realised that this is not normal. Before Kevin truly felt scared of what he could do.

Riko gave Kevin a lot of fear, the guts of a PTSD diagnosis. As the years went on, things got worse, and Kevin became unable to be an equal with Riko any longer. but in those formative years, he also gave him a lot of knowledge on how to hurt people, too. He knows what Riko got off on. He knows what moves and attacks hurt the most. He knows where to hold a knife that any movement will hurt the person it's held up to. He knows where to punch someone, where the bruise will linger for weeks, and the pain even longer.

Maybe there’s a dealer out there, somewhere, that Kevin thinks of every now and again, who has a permanent scar from the first time Riko asked Kevin to try and see how it feels to cut someone up. Maybe there’s someone out there that Kevin burnt with a lighter, or matches, or maybe there's a handful of scars on Jean's body that Kevin has apologised far too many times for. Do you think he had to hold Jean down when Riko waterboarded him, or when Riko drew swirls into his chest with a knife? Do you think Riko held him down then, too, and handed Kevin the knife, and watched as Kevin apologised with his eyes, and cut Jean up from his neck to his stomach?

Maybe in this universe Kevin hides that part of him because he's so ashamed of the stupid, awful, disgusting things he did as a teenager. Maybe Kevin feels so much guilt and shame about who he was at one point that there is nothing in the world that can possibly clear his conscience.

Maybe in this universe, Kevin wishes he had never stopped fighting back. Maybe he ponders what it would've been like to be in Riko's position.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Daddy Issues

Other fic(s) in this series: Guess

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG13 for some smutty talk

Word count: 768 words

Summary: You and Din have Daddy issues— your dad hates him— but you both get past it for now.

A/N: Characters co-created with my friend @lokislittlevalkyrie. Check out their amazing Din fic. 💜

You kissed the top of his helmet, the cold beskar familiar to your lips. You shrieked as larger hands pulled you into bed and held you tight like you were one of Grogu’s soft squishy toys. You giggled at his enthusiasm and placed the box of food you’d brought him on your side table before settling into your mandalorian’s warm embrace.

“I brought breakfast,” you said, looking up at him from his chest. “Dad made a mixed vegetable fry.” From your vantage point, you saw a patch of the beard that still made your skin burn from how he kissed you. The bulge in his neck that wobbled when he spoke. His skin… Oh his skin that was soft and rough at the same time. All things he allowed you to see despite his strict adherence to The Way.

“He cooked for me? It’s definitely poisoned,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

“Oh, not you too!” You chastised, slapping his beskar clad chest lightly so as to not hurt yourself. Your dad had made it clear that he did not like the man you brought home. He was charmed by Grogu, as was your mom and little brother. But on the Din front, he was strongly opposed.

“What? He’s made it clear that he hates me,” he said, shrugging it off. You sighed and agreed with him, knowing he was right. The first thing your dad had heard about him was you sobbing into his chest over your break up. Things had gotten better and the two of you were back together. But your dad’s rage only continued to grow.

“Eat, okay? I’ll be back when you're done.”

“Don’t go…please,” he said softly, his vulnerability melting you.

“You need to eat, Din,” you attempted to reason even though you knew you would eventually give in to his request. Your separation had not been easy on either of you and now that you’d found each other again, you were determined to make the best use of every minute you had together.

“I’ll eat you,” he said, hand crawling up your thigh and sending shivers all over your body that made every hair on your arm stand up. “Your dad made you too and you’re definitely my favorite out of his creations.”

“Din!” You squealed, somehow shocked by his brazenness though all he had been throughout your relationship was brazen. A giggle escape you unconsciously but turned into an unattractive snort, making you bury your face in his chest.

“I need to have you, sweet girl,” he said as he explored your body. “I’m starving.”

“You had me last night, you sex fiend!”

“So?” He asked, head tilted. “Want you everyday. Twice. At the very least.”

“You won't have time for anything else,” you said, reasoning him out of his sweet delusions.

“That’s alright by me…” he trailed before removing his hands from you abruptly. You whined at the loss of contact even though you’d been the one who was trying to get him to eat so he would leave you to go eat with your family.

“Close your eyes,” he said, and you followed, eyes shutting out the world at his command as they’d become accustomed to do. It was a familiar one. You knew what came after. Shuffling, heavy metal against a surface— wood, your side table.

“Blindfold me,” You said, elated that he trusted you this way, yet doubting yourself. What if your curiosity got the better of you and you looked? What if you opened your eyes accidentally? You were never in control of your senses when you were drowning in his passion.

He returned with a piece of cloth, presumably from your wardrobe if you had to guess from his footsteps. He wrapped it around you, covering your eyes, and tied a knot in the back.

His lips found you and you kissed him back eagerly, searching his lips for your love, for the soft heart behind the hard beskar. He did not disappoint, pouring his passion into you, electrifying a part of you that you’d never felt before with anyone else. With the kiss, the insecurities of the past few hours melted away. It did not matter that you’d separated once. You found each other again. It did not matter that your dad did not like him. He would come to like him soon. It did not matter that he would be off-world to rebuild Mandalore and you would be right here, on your planet, far away from him.

Nothing mattered except the present. And at present, you were in bliss.

.

.

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Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

Expanding on one of my drabbles.

This is going to be two parts, I just hit a block and didn’t want to force myself to keep going, and sacrifice quality. The second part will have a lot more details. PART TWO here

TW/CW: Smut 18+/MDNI, Cult Leader Geto, AFAB reader, slightly dubcon??, degradation, oral (m receiving), not proof read or formatted

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

You were unsure exactly why you had been summoned to his room, but as you sit across from Suguru Geto, you have a bad feeling. You’ve been in here for about five minutes and neither of you have said a word. You’ve let your gaze drop to the floor, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“Y/N,” he finally breaks the silence, and you almost flinch. “Do you know why I’ve asked you to come see me?”

You look up and finally meet his gaze, “I’m presuming you need me to go kill someone for you?” Ever since you dedicated your life to serving under him, you’ve had to take out at least one ‘monkey’ a week.

“If only it was that simple.” Geto smirks. “Come, I want to show you something.”

He pulls out his phone, and beckons you to stand beside him.

You pull yourself up, feeling anxious, and stand beside him. He presses play on a video on his phone, and you instantly turn red. There you are, legs splayed open, vibrator on your clit, moaning. “Fuuuck S-Suguru.”

“How did you get that?!” Anger takes over your body, and you wish you could slap the man before you.

“That doesn’t matter. You think I don’t notice, the way you rub your thighs together when you’re on the stage with me, and I’m praising how good a job you’ve done? That I don’t notice the lust in your eyes, when you look at me?” He stands suddenly, and walks over to his bed, just to sit on it.

“Strip.” He says it as calmly as someone would describe the weather.

“Wh-what?” You stammer. You’re angry and embarrassed, but you start to feel a stirring between your legs.

“I said to strip. Do not make me repeat myself again.” He has that stupid smirk pretty much glued onto his face.

Slowly, you undress, putting your clothing in a pile at your feet.

“Good girl, now on your knees and crawl to me.”

You drop slowly to your knees, and you can feel your arousal spreading. You slowly crawl to him, and stop at his feet.

“Close your eyes, and open your mouth.” He instructs.

You do as he says, and you feel his hand on your chin, turning your head up. You can feel his breath on your face, and he slowly spits in your mouth. You flinch, but he closes your mouth, and you’re forced to swallow it.

You keep your eyes shut, and hear clothing rustling.

“Open your eyes and your mouth.”

You open your eyes and see that he has removed his clothes, your eyes instantly shoot to his dick, it isn’t even fully hard yet, and it’s already huge. You open your mouth and he sticks it in slowly, allowing you to adjust to it, but the more you get used to it, the bigger it grows. You try to pull back, but his hand is holding your head in place, ensuring you take all of him down your throat. Tears well in your eyes, and you’re gagging around him. Finally he relents and you’re able to catch your breath. He grabs a fistful of your hair, and lazily pulls you up and down on his length, allowing you to have a second to breathe every so often. You’re rubbing your thighs together, trying to get some sort of release. He pulls you off him, and stands up. You inhale deeply before he’s rammed his cock all the way down your throat, causing you to choke. He grabs you by the throat while he fucks your face. You can feel that’s he’s close to his release, and he fucks into your mouth, harder and faster.

“Fffuuuck. So good at taking all of me.” He groans, and holds your head down, while he cums down your throat.

He pushes you off him, and stands above you. “Get up here and lie on your back.”

You do as he says, keeping your legs close and your arms over your chest.

Suguru uses one hand to spread your legs open, exposing you. He lets out a condescending laugh.

“Pathetic, you’re already dripping for me.”

[nymrs]

hii🩷can you write a fluff imagine about dad!richarlison?

tysm and i love youu

-Pink anon🩷

#2. SAFE AND SOUND | Richarlison

Summary: Richarlison comforting (better said trying to comfort) your daughter after she had a nightmare.

Genre: fluff

You were woken up by soft whispers, recognising the voices of your husband and daughter, Lucia. Raindrops rolled down the window plane, thunder echoed through the room. Enough reason for Lucia to disturb her parents sleep. She was scared of thunderstorms, especially at night. Thunderstorms caused her to have bad dreams. You assumed it was just another nightmare, one of those she would usually have on such nights, and decided to finally let Richarlison take care of her once since it normally came down to be your job. Keeping your eyes closed and pretending to still be asleep, you listened to how your husband tried to comfort your daughter.

"So what was your dream about?", Richarlison murmured in order to not wake you up. Lucia hesitated a short moment, not wanting to remember what got her so upset, "There was this… weird, ugly man running after me. I tried to get away from him but he was too fast. Even faster than you on the field papai!" Richarlison expressed his 'shock' by a deep gasp, "Faster than daddy? Impossible!"

"Really papai! He was so fast", Lucia insisted. He shook his head in disbelief. "If you say so Lu. Did that ugly man do anything or was he only chasing you?" "He ran after me. I was so scared but he got closer and I couldn’t move. Then he… he said… mamãe and papai will die." Her sweet voice at the end broke as she was about to tear up again. God, pretending to be asleep has never been that hard for you. It was the first time she dreamt such a thing and all you wanted to do was hug her tight and tell her everything would be alright - unlike your husband. He sighed out before he responded. "Well, Lu… you should know. Everyone is gonna die someday. That’s the cycle of life." You shot your eyes open and widened them in negative surprise to his answer, quietly slapping his head which went unnoticed by your daughter. He gave you a confused look. "We too?", Lucia asked in a tone that showed you terrified she was. Silently, you mouthed a thousands of no's, earning more irritated gazes from your husband. "No Lucia, we won’t die", he quickly replied. "But why? You said everyone." Richarlison got overwhelmed by his daughters question, not knowing how to keep the conversation going as child-friendly as possible, and started to stutter. "Because… uhm, uh… Lucia, you know papai is a superhero. Superheroes don’t die." She let out a deep breath of relief. "And what about mommy and me?" You saw Richarlison getting nervous as he tried to think of another response. "Mommy is a superheroes wife and you’re my daughter", he said, softly patting her head and fiddling his fingers into her hair, "Don’t worry meu anjo. You'll have a loooong, long wonderful life. Mommy and daddy will always be there for you. Always." He pecked her forehead as his large hand softly went up and down her tiny back. With a calm grin on her face, her breath got steady and you could tell she was falling into sleep. "Cycle of life, huh?", you mocked your husband.

"I just don’t feel good lying to our daughter Y/N", Richarlison explained himself. "But she just turned four Richy, four! She doesn’t need to know about the cycle of life yet", you giggled out, "Next time she’s crawling into our bed because she had a bad dream, wake me up and let me take care of her, superhero."

[peydawgz]

Only in Your Dreams || Sigma x Reader || Soulmate AU

// TW: nightmares, sedation, gun threats

//I wrote this at 2am while I’m at work on my phone. Idk why I’m motivated but I am, and I usually write on my laptop so I’m sorry for any typos/autocorrect confusion and I’m also pretty sure this is hot garbage because I’m sleep deprived. Eat up, my wonderful readers !!

You were told when you were a teenager, that one day you will meet your soulmate in a dream. One day you are destined to meet in the real world, but predetermined factors allowed for you to communicate with the help of the universe.

At first, you feared you didn’t have a soulmate, as nothing surprising happened in your dreams, if you had them at all. “You’ll know when it happens. The universe likes to take its time…” your caregiver told you when you were 17, and some of your friends had already met their soulmates by this time!

You went on into adulthood, doing your own thing, working at your job and doing your usual routine. When you fell asleep on your couch, something in the stars was settled, and your soulmate must have been finally assigned, because you saw him.

You were wrapped in a tornado of some sorts, what looked like office supplies and science devices flew all around the room. In the eye of the storm, an adult man was in the bomb position, his hands over his ears and hunched over on his knees. The closer you crawled to him, the louder this disorienting music started to play. This must have been his nightmare. You try to call out to him, but nothing comes out. Stupid dreams, can’t even use your motor functions. Your heart was racing as your thoughts went back to the fact that you were seeing your actual soulmate for the first time. You place a hand on his back, and you can feel him shuddering- it was so real.

When he looks up to you, you see his eyes are like a husky’s; bright blue and sharp. His nose protrudes in the most handsome way, and his eyebrows are lifted, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Your dream has stopped, and you woke up, dazed on your couch. You sat up quickly, trying hard to imagine his face in your head. You didn’t even know his name yet, but he was perfect.

You were eager to fall asleep again, to be able to intercept his dream and lay with him. You wanted it to be real, and to be able to speak to him. You almost couldn’t sleep from the excitement.

This time, the dream was more… painful. You were in the darkness, walking through a tunnel to a light, hanging from a cord that you could see just in front of you. You could hear someone’s voice, but it was not the man in your dreams. It was a woman. “Siebren… You’re going mad. I’m afraid you’re going to have to be sedated for you’re own good.” You we’re able to see him laid on a table in a straight jacket, and what looked like a muzzle over his face. He was squirming away from a needle that a red-haired woman held at his face. “Gravity is not yours to control anymore” she wickedly smirked, a substance oozing from the needle. You quickly ran into action, trying to save him from his nightmare. Siebren… was that his name? You were able to slap the needle from her hands, and she disappeared into a purple warp. Your breathing was heavy, going into protective mode for your soulmate. You looked down at his scared, confused face, and you tried to put the prices together of what the woman had said. You tried to unwrap him from his straight jacket but nothing you tried in the dream would work, so you fell to the side of the table, hugging him and trying to assure his nightmare would no longer bother him. He seemed more… comforted.

The dreams you had with Siebren were almost always nightmares. He was in a cell, in a hospital, in a whirlwind of gravity, loud classical music torturing his mind at all times. You were there for him, to chase away his fears and hold him. But then he started to intercept your dreams.

You were being chased by a giant dog, representing how you often procrastinate your real problems and run away from them, and you were being terrorized by the loud barks coming from behind you. Suddenly, you ran straight into Siebren, who was looking much different than your previous dreams. He wasn’t in such an upset state, nor was he wearing a muzzle or being bounded by something. He looked… powerful. You threw your arms around him, and that horrifying music actually started to sound calming for once. The giant dog was bounding towards you, and you clutched him. He began to rise from the ground, floating above you and rising the dog with him with his fingers, before throwing it far out into the outlands of your dream world.

The most recent dream almost felt… too real. You must be close to actually meeting your soulmate, you figured. You were sleeping in your bed, and then suddenly you found yourself laying in a beautiful sun, and sand beneath you. You basked, jumping into the blue ocean and splashing around with everything in your little imagination. This was more of a fantasy than a dream , and Siebren had suddenly rose from the water, joining you. He smiled to you, and embraced you before playfully rising his hand and manipulating the waves to splash you. You had a little sand fight, and played around on the graceful beach together, until you both laid onto the bed of sand and embraced each other. “I can’t wait to meet you” you heard his voice for the first time, and it shocked you. He had a cute accent, and also- you hadn’t been able to speak in your dreams up until now. “I hope we can be together soon, Siebren.” You said back to him. He blushed at the sound of his name coming through your lips. “I’m sorry… but I don’t know your name, my love.” He stroked your hair, looking deep into your eyes. “Y/N.” You whispered to him, and your dream began to fade away as you awoke from your slumber.

You went about the following days unable to sleep much, worrying about Siebren, and also feeling worthless at your job. You left late at night, and you had to walk home because the bus didn’t run late. It was cold outside, and you could hear rioting in the streets behind you. The war of humans and omnics was a horrible time to live in, considering the company you work for specialized in omnic parts and replacements. Through customer service you learned omnics are not as bad as the world makes them out to be, and stayed out of the bad parts of town due to the rioting.

However, nothing you could do could avoid this very scenario happening. The whole reason your dreams appeared to you, all fell down to this single point in time.

You were looking up at the sky, admiring the stars on your way home. The wind blew your hair around and made you shiver, holding your arms to your chest to create warmth. You were overworked, angry that you had stayed overtime to finish a project. You almost always finished your work on time, but something today was just creating a wall for you that you couldn’t overcome. You were hungry, and desperately trudged through the whipping winds around you, street lights flickering. You didn’t hear a single thing, before suddenly you tripped over something and onto your face. You heard a laugh from behind you, and then suddenly in front of you. You looked in the direction, but you saw nothing. You could hear a female voice, but you couldn’t spot where it was coming from. “Heard you were working for the exact corporation Im on a mission to hack~” she purred in your ear. “You must be valuable, I bet you know all the ins and outs.” She cooed, and you caught a glimpse of a purple blur in the corner of your eye. “Are we gonna play nice or are we gonna have to do it the hard way, chico?” You were watching her flicker around you, and suddenly you stuck your foot out and tripped her, giving her a taste of her own medicine. When she fell, she came out of her invisible-mode and you saw her angry face, and also the hun that was in her hand. “Oh you’re gonna get it now!” She started to run after you, but you already bolted off towards your home, trying to avoid her. You looked behind you, and you couldn’t see anything, so you either lost her or she was invisible again, but you just kept running. “I need some backup over here” you heard her voice from somewhere behind you. You turned a corner, and found yourself in a dead end alleyway, pressed against the wall, hoping she’d pass by you.

You heard a click, and suddenly she appeared in front of you. “Baby, you’re gonna be dead in 2 seconds if you don’t-“ she had the gun up to your head, and you were frozen, just staring foreword and trying not to cry out of fear for your life.

Another figure slowly floated into the alleyway, and he suddenly shoved her aside, “SOMBRA, NEIN!” His deep voice halted her, and she now sat up against the other side of the alley. It was dark, and you could really only see his silhouette, but this man felt so… familiar. His voice, his figure, you recognized him. A bursting feeling pounded in your chest, and you felt magnetized to the floating man. “Siebren?” You weeped, moving towards him. “I didn’t know it was you, Y/N Mijn liefje. I’m sorry, I would never let anybody hurt you. het spijt me.” He wrapped his arms around you, and it felt right. You truly did feel safe. Sombra looked between the two of you, a little weirded out, and then darted off in another direction.

“I’m here for you now. Thank you for being there for me, when I needed you. I have never been able to sleep with my nightmares, but you made them all go away.” He kissed your forehead, showing his appreciation. “…And you can call me Sigma, if you wish. I’m part of a team and everybody mostly calls me this.” He took your hand in his. “Okay, Sigma. Would you mind escorting me home?” You kissed the tip of his nose, your lips warming up his face. “Of course I will.” He took your arm in his and you let him stay over.

Sigma was very cuddly with you, and you assumed he was touch-starved from his time spent alone or in asylums. When you asked about the music, he seemed a little comforted to know that you could hear it too when you connected to his dreams. You kept him distracted from it when you were together, his happiness drowning it out. He likes to lift you with his gravity manipulation and dance with you.

Also he shows you his gravity balls :) and they’re pretty neat

[revlischarm]

Wouldn’t call this one of my most exciting edits for the Noodle Shop Ghost AU, but it’s what I was able to finish recently so it’s what y’all are getting since I’m impatient to share more details and have to divulge them NOW

More LMK Morro info under the cut

��� Red Son’s nicknames for Morro include “Accursed witch” and “dead meat” (the witch one is due to Morro having spooky vibes and carrying around a broom)

-Deadass? The first time Red called Morro a witch, Morro did a full 180° and said “did you just call me a bitch?” (Credit to @breathlessmorro for this idea!)

•Morro’s still got some anger issues they’re working out

•Princess Iron Fan shows up with her wind and he’s like “bro I am unimpressed I could do that when I was like, ten”

-The teleporting à la wind gets his attention, tho, since he obviously can’t do that and is immediately jealous

•Morro was a big fan of JTTW Monkey King after reading the story, but then he meets Wukong irl and is just like “Oh. This is it?? That’s…disappointing.”

Wukong: “I haven’t even interacted with you yet and you already dislike me, what the hell.”

-Like Morro and Wukong definitely have some similar interests and hobbies, such as martial arts, protective over MK, a distain for rules…but Morro is still twitchy around him.

-Morro owns a JTTW shirt because he still thinks that the story slaps tho

•Morro thinks the Mayor has cool vibes upon first meeting

-Like, Morro respects how unhinged and creepy he is

•Morro does have a broom for a weapon I’ve decided! It’s comical and it works. He gets a new weapon during Season 3, tho!

-He absolutely 100% knows how to use a broom as a staff because he’s used a staff before. In Season 5 when he possessed Lloyd and was trying to steal Wu’s staff, in the tea shop fight he was kicking ass with it. He’s very proficient with a staff and you can fight me on that.

•Morro forgets that he’s mortal again and ends up walking into a lot of solid objects

•Morro strives for success and likes to be in the spotlight still honestly, he can’t help it.

-The man absolutely despises failing in any way; he doesn’t want to be seen as a disappointment.

-At least he’s ambitious!

•Morro’s working on his inability to let things go, and it’s going. Okay. Ish.

-He struggles so, so much with letting go of a grudge, he never forgets nor forgives but he’s trying to

-It’s part of his goal towards being a better person/not being evil lmao

-“I probably shouldn’t hold onto so much hate for what happened before, huh…well maybe I’ll hold onto a few things.”

•MK sometimes does morning exercises with Morro (stretches and stuff), so for the episode “Duplicination” he makes another clone to do said activities with Morro

-How would that go wrong? Contortionist clone is how. Motherfucker stretches himself into a creepy pretzel

-He crawls up a wall like a spider and gives MK nightmares

-“NOOOO!! MY WORST FEAR IS MANIFESTING!”

-He’s super flexible and very hard to catch; good at dodging!

•Morro definitely sees a lot of Lloyd in MK, but it’s not like he can go back to Ninjago rn (he doesn’t know how), and even then! Lloyd and he are on horrible terms. So Morro is inadvertently projecting onto MK to some extent the apology and like…just feeling guilty and almost responsible in a way

-They’re not doing it intentionally, they really aren’t

-MK just gives them Lloyd vibes that make Morro feel guilty

-Took one look at MK and went: “Is anyone gonna big brother that guy?” And didn’t wait for an answer (credit: @breathlessmonkie )

•Morro being referred to ironically as the “family pet” by Tang and the gang is a reoccurring gag in Season 1. It’s for comedy purposes.

-Pigsy: “This is my husband, Tang, our son, MK, and the family pet, Morro.”

MK: “He’s a rescue!”

-Morro just goes with it

•Morro has residual traits from being a former ghost and you can fight me on that

-For example, his teeth are just slightly more sharp than the average person’s. It’s barely even noticeable but it’s there.

-Morro’s eyes have eyeshine (tapetum lucidum?), basically if it’s dim lighting and you direct some light at him, his eyes seem to glow in the dark. That thing that some animals have, you know? Deer.

-On that note, Morro can see in the dark slightly better than the average person.

-There’s more stuff but I’ll go over it later

•Morro loves flying kites!!! He adores those super complex ones and is saving up money to buy one

•MK called Morro “responsible” one time/refers to him as his “responsible friend”, and Morro ends up having a whole new episode dedicated to him having a crisis over that

-Think a midlife crisis except more aggressive and despairing. Morro’s trying to find an outlet for aggression! He’s adamant he maintain his bad boy persona, and MK’s comment shook him

-Like, his whole thing was defying destiny, making his own path in life, beating the odds and being stubborn…and yet here MK is, saying that’s he’s responsible. It goes against what he thinks of himself and just sets him off. Man literally skips work (which he never does) and gets everyone worried about him.

-He’s just acting out to try and prove that he’s not some domesticated ex-villain, but it’s also about him having difficulty adjusting to this new norm

-Before, Morro was doomed to a cursed eternity for the longest time. He was pent up and bitter and focused on a whole lot of negative stuff, and now he’s waking up and going to work and living life like none of that happened. It’s jarring, and he’s realizing that it’s so far from how he once was.

-He’s thinking, “That angry person I used to be was me, that’s who I was. What changed?” When really he’d just been so bitter and upset for so, so long that that’s all he can think of himself as being—that’s who he was, that’s who Morro was. It’s just he wasn’t actively thinking about it or anything until MK prompted it. He’s changed, and he knows that, but now he’s like…he’s moreso conscious of it, like actually realizing it’s not just that he gave up being so spiteful and tried to redeem himself—he’s forgotten what he was like before he was a vengeful spirit.

-That was what defined them for so long. And now who are they?

-The other part of it is that he doesn’t want to feel like he’s conforming, doesn’t want to be responsible, that it feels like he’s just following along to fate’s rules. And he abhors that.

-Uhhhhhh anyways tl:dr Morro has an episode all his own about self-discovery and also demolishes some stuff along the way.

-OH ONE MORE THING Morro divulges some more about his past to MK and Mei in this episode and also I don’t have a title for the episode yet so suggestions/help with that is greatly appreciated

•Back to our regularly scheduled program

•Morro. Does not trust Wukong very much.

-Like, Morro already has past trauma with Wu, given how Wu told Morro he could be the Green Ninja and fed him a bunch of hopeful nonsense and all that. Morro knows that MK’s been told he has some big destiny and power and whatever by this mentor-figure.

-Also. The Golden Weapons’ parallels with Monkey King’s staff?? Fun stuff. The staff “chose” MK and all that jazz.

-Morro doesn’t trust him from the start, although it’s less of Morro being perceptive enough to pick up on Wukong’s crap and instead that his paranoia ended up being right

-Morro would definitely go “At this point I can’t tell if you or Wu are worse, and that’s fucking saying something.”

-There’s one instance in which Morro straight up punches Wukong square in the face. I’m keeping that scene to myself for now because I gotta have some secrets, you know? Heheh

•Mei’s green power startles Morro every now and then

-Like there’s a flash of glowing green in their peripheral and they jolt. Literally they don’t even do it on purpose, it’s a knee jerk response to glowing green powers.

•Morro drinks soy sauce. He’ll get a little dish and sip from it. Yes, I based this off of myself.

•Macaque is Morro’s dad now btw I should probably mention that /hj

•During the episode “Macaque”, Morro shows up when MK does and actually manages to like. Demonstrate a decently strong attack at Macaque’s shadow kaiju thing. Wind does wonders against smoke monsters (I think Mac called it that??)

-Anyways Macaque quickly takes an interest in Morro! Morro tags along with MK for the training stuff because they’re not letting the kid get taken to some secondary location

-…unless they goes too, lmao

-Plus Macaque doesn’t actually mind him coming along, Morro’s wind powers peaked his interest

•Oh also Morro @ Macaque: “You know back where I’m from, we have an elemental Master of Shadow—I bet they could kick your ass, lol”

Macaque:

Macaque: “a fucking what”

•Also Morro? Actually really vibes with Macaque’s teachings?? Like he definitely reminds MK to take breaks and take it easy every once in a while, but for the most part Morro is like “fuck yeah? This guy is straightforward and makes a good point. Although strategy is important to take into account first and foremost it also helps to actually have a sense of direction here”

-So Morro thinks that Macaque’s got superior skills as a teacher to MK here

-Up until the whole betrayal thing haha

•Macaque keeps a close eye on Morro throughout the episodes following all of this actually!

-Like Macaque checks in on him throughout Season 2 and so they cross paths again fairly quickly

-Morro is very apprehensive at first but begrudgingly understands that it isn’t anything personal against MK, what Mac did—Morro’s literally been in that kind of situation before, sort of. “Nothing personal, just doing this to achieve my goals, you just happen to be involved in this and got hurt.”

-Like Morro gets it. You do evil and fucked up shit because it’s fun at the time and you wanna get back at someone who hurt you

•He’s still very protective of MK but he genuinely understands where Mac is coming from when he pulled that stunt

•They both absolutely open up to each other about their respective deaths eventually, though it takes time

•Macaque shows Morro some cool fighting stuff! They spar together a lot

-Morro finds himself looking forward to those sessions (he can get an actual challenge lmao) and so does Macaque! Mac hasn’t had a sparring buddy in. Well. You know ;)

•Morro 100% picks up on the ex vibes Macaque and Wukong have

•But anyways Morro and Macaque have a great time training and sparring together! Neither of them are afraid to get aggressive, but not because they’re angry—it’s because they know the other one can take it!

•They just overall bond offscreen (and maybe onscreen too? Do I need to make another new episode dedicated to this??) during Season 2/end of Season 1

•Macaque and Morro have a fun dynamic that I’ll expound more upon in Season 3 stuff, but I’m saving anything s3 for a different post because spoilers

•I will divulge that LBD has some difficulty handling Morro for reasons that are ghost-related and that Morro wants to kick her ass

-Well, related to the fact that Morro used to be a ghost and I have a very specific headcanon about his new physical body in that regard

•Anyways

•The Macaque thing is pure self-indulgence on my end because he’s one of my favorite characters

•If it feels forced in, it’s because it probably is, but serotonin go brrrrr in my head and that overrules all logic

•I want to draw what Morro’s intro screen would look like for the opening but I don’t have the skill (can’t draw complex backgrounds well at ALL) rip

-Concept for seasons 1 + 2 would have him standing in the front with a clear shot like the other characters do, arms are crossed or he’s leaning on his broom, and in the background we see a cool dynamic shot of him flying one of those neat Chinese kites. Color scheme is mostly greens and grays? I’m not sure.

-My idea for the Season 3 intro I’m reserving for now

•Morro doesn’t know how to drive I should mention. Man needs to learn to, lol

•Mei and MK teach him lingo and Morro honestly picks it up shockingly fast.

-He can understand some things about it? But others he’s at a total loss for.

-For example Morro doesn’t understand surreal memes or deep-fried stuff, he just doesn’t get what’s funny about them

•Morro knows a lot of occult/spiritual info!! He’s your man if you’ve got some form of spooky trouble ailing you

-So for spooky or supernatural happenings, Morro can give some decent advice.

•Don’t get him wet, he despises water.

•Also he’s still absolutely unhinged. Redemption doesn’t mean he lost any of his violent tendencies, so that’s a lot of manic fun.

-The vibe of what he’ll be saying is all good stuff, but the way he says it sounds like he’s delivering a villain speech

-Oh and don’t get me started on his dramatics either because this man is the smuggest and most theatric bastard ever and I love him for it

-A sore loser and a sore winner.

-So a ton of similarities to Red Son’s behavior, just…toned down a bit more and he’s not trying to be a villain. That’s just how he is. He slips back into villain mode sometimes because he was a villain, and he’s also just kinda like that.

-Morro’s villain tendencies/vibes are always more…creepy? Dark? Than Red Son’s are. Macabre, I’d say. He could actually scare you if he wanted to? It’s hard to describe.

-To sum it up: trying to do good things, but his attitude about it is so diabolical and dramatic. Aaaaannnnd his methods aren’t entirely moral all the time, either. He’s trying, okay??

•Although on that note, Morro is still a master at manipulation when it comes to it. He’s very adept at twisting his words around and can occasionally fall back on old habits without meaning to

-Fucking watch out for him when he’s intentionally being manipulative though, you don’t wanna mess with that

•Morro 100% attends Mac’s shadow plays, they really enjoy them and are the most enthusiastic person in the stands

-Macaque: The hero and the warrior were like the sun and the moon—

Morro: FUCK YEAH LET’S GOOOOOO

Macaque, confused and embarrassed: Uh, anyways.

•Morro would either be very good or very bad at fighting Red Son; wind can either fuel fire or snuff it out. Depends on the oxygen and stuff.

•Anything involving flying/air/heights? Morro is adept at that. Man would kill for one of Wukong’s clouds

•Trans he/they Morro rights

•This post is long enough so I’ll end it here

[sunnydayroleplay]

Hiiii! How are you? Don't hate me, but they had no right to make Ian cuteee- I'm sorry! He's just adorable! I would take him back- That sounds toxic, but ANYHOW. how would Ian react to MC taking him back?

This is the first post I’ve ever gotten about Ian omfg-

I aint gonna yuck your yums, I agree they had no right to make him so adorable. He’s quite cute aha~

Now, let’s write!

Contents Inside: Heavy Emotions (Crying, Anger), Uhhh Ian getting a bunch of speeding tickets most likely, You fucking slap his hoe ass, Cuddle times.

18- DNI, even though this is a relatively SFW post, the game it is based off of is an 18+ community. It is for your own safety, and you interacting not only jeopardizes that, it jeopardizes mine, and the creators of the games. For SFW + 18- safe content, check out my art page instead. @feralhalfnhalfcreamer

———————————————————

Countless missed phone calls, some unopened letters, he was desperate. He was desperate to win you back, or even just a word from you. He didn’t know how you were anymore because of him. All those memories from your guys’ childhood just vanished like that because of him and he hated it. If only he hadn’t went to that bar. If only he hadn’t finished that last drink. Maybe you’d be still together.

Tiresome nights, he still hasn’t gotten over you. And you couldn’t get him out of your head. You find yourself wearing his old shirts when you go to bed. The way his smell lingered in your nose was comforting yet infuriating. You’d sleep in his untouched room, on that same bed you’d talk to him in.

Was this normal? You know “getting over with” is different for everybody, but why is it lasting for so long? Why do you still love him? Why can’t you bring yourself to love someone else after months have passed? Why do you have the sudden urge to call him back and tell him you love him?

You shouldn’t. He cheated on you, regardless if he was drunk or not. He hurt you so badly, you don’t know if he’s only going to do it again. But, you can’t help but to find out. You want to hear his voice again one last time and have it not be his crying.

Your phone was vibrating on your nightstand. You leaned over to check who it was, and sure enough it was Ian. Your heart was racing, should you answer it? Do you want to try at this again? You’ve known him for the longest time, and you know he wouldn’t cheat on you to be a dick. That he wouldn’t hurt you just to hurt you. Maybe he really was sorry. Maybe you should answer it.

Letting out a sigh, you pick up the phone and press ‘accept’. You hear a shocked gasp from the other line.

“Y/N?! I-Is that you? Oh god..please I’m so sorry, I-“

“Come over. We need to talk.”

“Wait wh-“

You hang up and throw your phone across the room: Did you really tell him to come by to what was once both of your homes? And is he going to see that you still kept everything of his intact? Your heart is pounding, your mind is racing, you don’t know what to do or say, but you know that its not gonna be good.

Were you happy about this? Were you really going to let him back into your life after that last few months have been a living hell? So many questions and not enough answers. It felt like you were in your bed panicking for only mere seconds until you heard a knock on your door.

It’s him.

It’s…him.

Practically falling out of your bed, you try to wipe away your tears as you crawl out of your room and towards the front door. Should you open it? Are you really going to do this. Yes, you are. You unlock the door, and slowly open it up.

Standing in the door way was a light brunette haired man, freckles covering his soft face. He had a brown coat on, with a rough pair of jeans. His neck wore that necklace you once matched with.

You looked up at him, tears still streaming down your face. He clenched on his bag strap harder, trying not to do anything rash. Furrowing your eyebrows, you clenched your fists, and brought up a hand to slap him as hard as you could.

Ian immediately let go of his bag and held onto the side of his face that you hit him on.

“Ow!! I.. that was deserved..”

Like a typical day in Autumn, you couldn’t not let out your rain. Tears just falling down from your eyes, you tried your best to keep up your composure, but you couldn’t. Ian let go of his face. It was obvious that he wanted to go inside and hold you in his embrace that he had done so many times before. But he refrained.

You jumped in his arms, holding on for dear life as if he was going too disappear into ash and crumb.

“You’re a fucking dick! I hate you so much! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!!”

You hit him after every emphasis given. Ian didn’t say anything about it. He just wanted to comfort you. His hands ran up and down your spine as he tried to shush you softly. Like he had always done beforehand.

You hated how it felt so nice. How it felt so good the way he treated you in the moment. Eventually he let go off you, and you managed to calm down enough to start a basic conversation.

The two of you talked, you actually talked. After so long, you got to see each other, and it was actually nice. Ian talked about how it went on, and how he was deeply sorry. He went on his knees and practically begged for you to take him back. That he couldn’t live without you.

And to be honest, you knew you couldn’t either. He was one of the only things on your mind since he left. You knew you couldn’t get over him. You lept into his arms again, and held him close. You weren’t crying this time, at least not that much.

He pressed a kiss against your forehead, his hand resting behind your back, playing with your hair.

“I’m sorry Y/N.. I-I know that I-“

“Shut up and just.. stay with me..don’t leave me again..please..”

“You really mean it? You’re not just saying that..?”

“Do you want me to change my mind? I-I’ll be honest.. I couldn’t get over you either..it was hard.. You left me Ian. You left when I needed you most.”

“I won’t leave you again. I-I will always be here, okay? Please, I promise, I-I love you, you’re m-my everything..!”

Should you fall for those sentimental words again? Are you truly ready to start things over? It’s hard to decide, but you have an answer. Yes, you’re ready. Slowly but surely.

“J-Just come inside..”

You finally step aside and let him in, closing the door behind him. He walks over to that same familiar couch that the two of you got off the side of the road in a “rich people” neighborhood.

The two of you managed to calm down enough. Your ear pressed against Ian’s chest. Your breathing almost aligning up with his. He had both his arms wrapped around you. Its been awhile since you had done something like this with him. In general its been awhile since you had done anything with him.

Sure, its going to take a long time to build up trust with him, but at least he’s willing to do anything for it.

After so many nights of crying yourself to sleep, this was the one time in forever where you could sleep happy. Even if it meant getting back with your ex. And happily so.

[spookyboywhump]

Just a. Weird little thing with Zander and Nicholas

CW: pet whump, blood, beatings

***

Even though he should’ve been used to rough treatment by Nicholas, it never got any easier, no matter how much he tried to tell himself it eventually would.

A lot of it was things he was used to, just, from other people, be that Cain or Vanessa, but he knew it was different from Nicholas. While he didn’t think the other two were especially kind to him, he understood that they didn’t seem to hate him, or in Cain’s case, he didn’t hate him all the time. But Nicholas was different from them, every time he looked at him Zander could see absolute hatred in his eyes, everything he did to him seemed to be motivated by anger and spite, making the situation all the more painful for Zander. If he thought about it later, he would roll his eyes, he’d think it’s pathetic, Nicholas had so much control and yet he still felt threatened by him? He’d be able to think of how truly ridiculous it was when he wasn’t actively suffering the consequences of that man’s attitude towards him.

He hated that tears filled his eyes, even though he could reason that it was an involuntary response to being hit in the face. He’d clasped his hands over his face, as if it would stop the blood gushing from his nose, he knew it was broken, he was familiar with the feeling by now. He didn’t think Nicholas had hit him that hard ever before, even in prior beatings he’d come out bruised and bloodied but usually nothing would be broken. It had only taken a single, brutal hit to his face, leaving him knelt on the floor, trying to glare up at him angrily. It was hard to look intimidating when he was holding his face the way he was, tears running down his cheeks, but he didn’t have to look intimidating, he’d already lost, he just wanted Nicholas to know he wasn’t scared of him, he was furious.

“You look even more pathetic when you try to act scary, you know that?” Nicholas said, a hint of amusement in his voice. He was looking down on him like he was satisfied with his work, like he’d finally put him in his place. It wouldn’t satisfy him for long, days, maybe even hours later he’d be angry with him again for simply existing, and he’d make that very clear to him. “But you’re a lot more appealing like this too. You have very pretty eyes for such a worthless mutt.” He said, like he was just trying to make him uncomfortable. If that’s what he was trying for, he succeeded, it made his skin crawl anytime Nicholas felt “nice” enough to give him something resembling a compliment.

“Shut the fuck up.” He muttered, too exhausted to snap at him the way he would’ve liked to. He didn’t want to admit defeat, but he was tired, and it was just the two of them, nobody he had to protect, nobody he had to prove he could protect.

“Hm, and are you going to make me?” Nicholas teased him. He knew there wasn’t anything he could do in this state, and he loved it, as if he only liked Zander when he was broken down and vulnerable. He seemed to only be of any use to him when he felt completely useless to himself.

Zander didn’t want to grace him with a response, he looked away from him, trying to wipe away the tears and blood that had stained his face. He realized he wasn’t very successful, he was just smearing blood everywhere as it had covered his hands as well, and he felt about as pathetic as Nicholas said he was, pathetic and disgusting and just stupid. His face ached already, he knew it would be far worse tomorrow but as he sniffled, trying to hold back more tears, he made the softest whine in the back of his throat, it felt like everything was just another slap to the face. Of course Nicholas picked up on it immediately, he knelt down beside him, Zander flinched as he gently ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face. Sometimes gentle contact felt more like a threat than violence, especially from Nicholas.

“Oh, you poor thing.” He said, the line between sympathy and faux sympathy blurred as usual with him. “You know I just love doing this to you, but it really is easy to avoid. You’ll learn someday.” He told him, and Zander tried to pull away, only for Nicholas to grab him by the hair and roughly pull him back, holding him in place so he wouldn’t move again. “Until then, I’m happy to teach you this lesson as many times as it takes.” He said, and Zander felt like he meant that, he felt certain that this would never get old for Nicholas. The thought made him ill. He didn’t want to break first.

[tinyascanbe]

Beetle Shells Chapter 2

TW: nudity, very slight noncon, medical, insects

No sexual content

Deeply asleep from exhaustion and the effects from her transformation, Clementine began to have a nightmare. Horned brown glossy beetles surrounding her (at her once normal height), crawling up her, prickling legs like razors on her skin. I felt the pain in the dream and yet was glued in place, unable to even move my arms to knock off the insects. A strong odor filled my nose…sweet…but harsh like vinegar. I realized it was the pheromone, i was dripping it onto the ground, exuding the liquid as it quickly vaporized. I couldnt close my mouth or even scream as I felt the beetles begin crawling up my neck.

Immediately broken from sleep, a monumental force pushed me further into the balled up shirt. I looked around confused for a moment as my head felt clearer and the realization of everything slapped me in the face.

Kyles massive face loomed in front of me scrunched up in a look of concern eliciting a scream.

“Hey im sorry I didnt mean to scare you or hurt you with that poke, I just couldnt wake you up for awhile, I was really concerned. I cant feel a pulse on something…so little..” He trailed off and brought his face closer.

What kind of fucked up reality is this?! I attempt to move backwards but to my dismay I cant produce the force to push farther back on the shirt so i dart my eyes around observing the new location.

Im on a bed, presumably Kyles, that stretches out for what seems like forever with a fluffy blue comforter. I spot posters that look like huge billboards and the ceiling looks so so far away that its hard for me to make out any features of the overhead light. Its all too much. I realize my breathing has quickened and panic is swelling within me. I grab a corner of the shirt and pull it over the rest of my body/head and use the darkness to try and steady my emotions.

“Hey….please dont hide..” Kyle brought his hands and lifted the shirt to reveal my head. The panic and fear was tangible. Hesitantly a huge finger approached my head and despite my eyes widening and head tilting back at the massive and powerful form towering above.

He lowered the finger onto my head and its weight and size stunned me. He slowly dragged his finger back, petting my hair while he averted his eyes.

“Im hope this isnt weird I just dont know how to comfort someone at this size. I want to let you know that youre safe with me and Ill take care of you until we find a way to get you back to your normal size. Unless you have somewhere else you’d prefer to be.”

I look up and speak for the first time since Ive become so small.

“Thank you.” Its clear my shyness is apparent from the softness of my voice and I wonder how it might sound to someone of his size.

I lay in the shirt upon his thigh, heat radiating through me and my breath slows, eyes drifting close again.

“You cant sleep yet, we have to take care of your wounds Clem. You’re not really in a position to take care of them yourself at the moment. If you get an infection at this size, youre toast. Im going to take you to the bathroom now, Ill try and walk slowly for you.”

I lift up my head and observe the two hands close in on me and lift me. I observe the beige carpet and swallow realizing just how far of a fall it would be. I grip the shirt tightly and squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for it to be over.

Im lowered onto a marble countertop and watch Kyles features flush. A small medicine cabinet attached to the wall above the sink is opened above and he leans over me to sift through the contents. I stare up and the stories high man before me and watch him push back his long silky hair behind his ear. He pulls out gauze, antibiotic ointment, medical scissors, and a q-tip. My twisted or sprained ankle throbbed and Id wish I were able to walk on it so I could just take care of it all myself.

“Well… Im just going to get on with it then” Kyle states, his face flushing even darker. He moves his hands down and hesitates before removing the shirt from my tiny grasp and fully exposing me. I felt violated in the moment, like a baby getting their diaper changed. He looked me over and gently applied a prepared hand towel, damp with warm water and soap, that looked the size of a pool to me. He slowly dragged it down my body and I squirmed from the heat and rough fabric against the cuts from the glass and bug legs. A hiss escaped my lips.

“I know…I know..” he whispered from his massive lips.

“Can you flip for me?” He asked in a sheepish tone.

The embarrassment was horrific. It was like getting a brazillian wax. Bowing my head i adjust my position and then flip over as I was told to, shame overcoming me and pain shooting through my ankle. I soon felt the washcloth drape on my back and drag downward a few times. Two fingers suddenly clamped down on my sides cand lifted me into the air, my body dangling in front of his observant eyes before I was lowered onto a white fluffy hand cloth. I quickly pulled the fabric to cover myself.

“Not yet Clem. Im sorry.. Im just trying to help you. We’re almost done.” Kyle stated, still flushed as he reexposed me, now holding a qtip and antibiotic ointment.

I quickly used my hands to cover myself and crossed my legs, laid out on my back, and squeezing my eyes shut. Thick globs of the ointment now covered most of my skin which was pretty sticky and gross feeling. Kyle reached down and pulled the fluffy fabric around me, relief washing over me that it was finally done.

Silence dragged between us until a roll of gauze that was half the size of my body was held up against me. Looking up, I saw him nod and cut a 10 inch strip of it and open a small butterfly bandage.

“If you wrap this around yourself, I’ll secure it with the butterfly bandage and youll have a makeshift wrap dress, which should suffice for now.”

I take the dangling fabric from his outstretched hand and quickly wrap it around myself. He secures the bandage, bringing his fingers to gently press it on. He hesitates and brings a finger to brush my hair back from my bowed head.

“Cmon, lets go watch a tv show or something. Nothing else left we can do to change the situation tonight”

[blooming-violets]

43: giving them a piggy-back ride

[from this prompt list] [feel free to request a prompt from the list]

[tasm!peter parker x reader]

The Piggy-Back

"Are we there yet?" Peter dragged his feet behind you as you trekked ahead. "Can't I just swing us there? It would be so much faster."

You stopped walking and turned around with a huff, "Peter Benjamin Parker, you are worse than a child!" You stuck your finger out at him in an accusatory manner. "We have to walk six blocks. That is not far. We do not need to swing everywhere. And, besides, it messes up my hair and I get wind burn. I'm sick of swinging. I would like to show up to this event not looking like I crawled out of a wind tunnel."

The two of you were attempting to walk the few blocks to your friend's house party. It was colder than you anticipated outside and, you had to admit, that swinging there would be faster. Still, you didn't want to risk the hard work you put into doing your hair. No amount of hairspray could hold it in place after a swing through the city.

"But it's cold," he pouted at you. His bottom lip stuck out to resemble a toddler about to throw a tantrum and his eyes widened into pleading, round saucers.

The look made you burst into laughter, "You're pathetic. Aren't you supposed to be a tough crime fighting superhero?"

Peter shook his head, keeping up the pout, "Not when I don't have a suit on. Now I'm just a normal person who's cold and sick of walking." He shuffled up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hiding his face into the collar of your jacket. "Carry me the rest of the way."

You gave him another laugh, "You should be the one carrying me." You untangled yourself from his grasp and bent your knees. "Hop on, Spidey. I'll piggyback you. It's only two more blocks."

His amused giggle filled you with joy, "I'll squish you."

"Give it a try! I'm stronger than you think."

Peter didn't question you further and he carefully hopped up onto your back with a kind of grace that only Spider-Man could manage. The second his weight hit you, you took a few running steps forward to keep your balance, before quickly finding your footing again. He wasn't as heavy as you thought he'd be but it was still a struggle to stay up right.

You gave a grunt and attempted to stumble onward to your destination, "Alright. I got this."

His laughter filled your ear and tickled your cheek as he nuzzled his head next to yours, "I'm impressed you didn't immediately fall flat on your face. I should travel like this more often."

You responded with another grunt, struggling to get any words out as you concentrated on not dropping him. The two of you made it approximately one full block before your legs gave out. Peter jumped off and wrapped a protective arm around your waist right before your knees could hit the concrete.

"Careful," he warned with a smile. He steadied you back on your feet and planted a kiss to the top of your head. "I told you I would squish you. Come here, it's my turn now."

He bent down nice and low for you to scramble onto his back instead. You clambered on top of him, a lot less graceful than he had been getting onto yours, and wrapped your legs around his waist. He hoisted you up higher with ease and started a steady jog down the street.

"Now you're just showing off," you rolled your eyes but smiled as you tighten your grip around his neck.

"I'm making up for the lost time. It took you a solid five minutes to walk one block. Slowest horse I've ever ridden."

You gently slapped his chest in protest, saying sarcastically, "You ride a lot of horses, Peter? And, relationship tip, never refer to your partner as a horse."

He chuckled, "Yeah, the second it came out of my mouth, I regretted my choice of words." He slowed his jog as he approached the party. "Oh god, I can hear the music already. Terrible choice. Awful music. Let's go back home instead."

You couldn't hear what he could but you tried to protest, "No, we came all this way. Your antisocial behavior and disagreement on music choice is not an excuse to miss out on our friend's party."

You felt him tighten his grip around your legs and could see the glint of a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Who's riding who?" He asked.

"What are you talking ab-"

Before you could finish the question, he spun around and started a swift walk back in the direction you came.

"Peter!" You gasped.

"This horse says that it's time to go home. You have to be better at controlling your animals if you want them to listen to you!" He quickened his step. "Hold on tight."

He didn't have to tell you twice for you to know what was about to happen. You tightened your arms around his neck and braced yourself for the inevitable jerk as he shot the two of you up into the air. Taking the time to get dressed up, just to skip out on your friend's party right as you arrived, wasn't the sort of disappointment you would have felt a few years ago. Instead, you were relieved as the wind tossed back your hair and you clung to your boyfriend's back. Even hurdling 50 feet above the ground, you felt safe tucked against him. If Peter didn't feel comfortable being somewhere, he would simply just not go. It was a quality you had learned to admire about him even if it often led to moments like this.

"Promise me that the music was actually insufferable and that we would have had a terrible time," you shouted over the wind whistling in your ear.

He nodded, calling back, "They were playing Cotton Eyed Joe, babe. I promise you, this is for our own sanity. I'm saving you from a night of pain."

"Ew," you grumbled. "Fine but at least swing us to the nice Mexican restaurant instead. We look cute. Let's not waste it. Might as well make use of our night."

"One sexy, hot date night, coming right up!"

[bubbledumbbinch]

Thank you so much for doing my ask(>0<；)

I LOVED IT. I kinda have a thing for shy characters if you could tell. If you don't mind, can I request the same oral headcanons for Ruggie, Jamil, Jade and Rook this time? The one who look like the service tops? Thank you so much💕💕

Eek hello again! I’m so happy you enjoyed my last one!! I had fun writing it! Ty for the request again, I’m v excited for these set of characters. And, I like the shy ones too 🙈

ALSO THESE CAME OUT MORE LIKE SCENARIOS JKSDKJNDKNAK

A/N: This piece of writing is for 18+ readers only. Minors DO NOT INTERACT.

Warnings: Mild story spoilers for Episode 4 for Jamil(?) , mentions of blood for Jade, slight yandere for Rook 

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

Ruggie Bucchi x Reader

Giving

Right so, it’s no secret that Ruggie is a real giver. He does so much work for Leona and is known for being giving in his community back home! He’s too sweet!

Ruggie playfully slaps your ass as you walk through the halls of NRC, making you gasp as you look around at your surroundings, making sure nobody caught him. Taking his squeezes on your body as a hint, he leads you to a hidden corner and starts to tease you more.

Ruggie also isn’t picky on location either, willing to find a hidden place around the school, a janitor’s closet, or an empty classroom. This man will please you anytime, anywhere.

The dirty blonde would definitely feel you up in preparation, knowing what spots to linger on, letting out his signature shishishi~ as he can hear you moan or feel you shiver at his fingers.

Ruggie pushes your form onto the door lightly, giggling at the way it rattled from the pressure. 

Pulling your pants down, the smell of your sweat from throughout the day, permeates his senses making his cock and ears twitch. It’s a dirty pleasure~

I can also imagine him saying “THANK YOU FOR THIS MEAL” before going down on you

Ruggie is aggressively trying to make you cum, he’s rough yet so good with his tongue, keen on hearing those sharp noises from your mouth.

When you get close, you put your hands on his head, rubbing his ears and giving him so many praises. He feels his cock twitch in his pants as he starts sucking on your clit with more fervor than before - making you squirt on his face

The beastman laps up at your juices as you ride out your high, eating up the flavors and the noises coming from you~

“Shishishi~ Y/N, you couldn’t help those lewd noises from coming out hm?” Ruggie teases, as he helps you put your pants back on. “Careful though, next time, I don’t want to risk having anybody else but me hearing those noises, okay~?”

Receiving

You and Ruggie are in his bedroom back at Savanaclaw, after a tiring day of him running errands for Leona. You praise him for his efforts and offer to suck him off to reward him for being such a good helper!

Ruggie is not used to someone offering to service HIM instead of the other way around, so don’t tease him for looking so shocked!

He blushes, asking if you’re sure you really want to. Internally there is some doubt as if he doesn’t know if you really meant it or if you were just joking.

Once he realizes you’re serious, he eagerly strips down to his boxers, letting the tent in his pants be all the more obvious.

You wanted to service the hardworking hyena boy as much as possible, stroking him through the cloth of his undergarments until you could see a dark spot on the briefs where the tip of his dick was.

Suddenly, you felt your hands moving on their own. You looked up as Ruggie was controlling your hands, making you pull his underwear off, as he couldn’t take anymore messing around. 

Eventually he lets control of you go, and he lets you bring his cock into your waiting mouth. He closes his eyes and lays into his pillow, groaning immediately.

After working his length in your mouth, he uses his hands to pull at your hair, his tail now wagging violently under him.

It doesn’t take long before he already starts to twitch in your mouth. As he gets closer, he asks to cum on your body, preferably on your chest

Ruggie lets out hot frequent pants as he releases, his ears twitching in delight as he paints your naked chest with his cum

He isn’t satisfied with one time, he is greedy and wants you to make him cum at least twice!

“Haanh- wow..! It felt so good, Y/N...” the blonde panted. He stroked himself back to hardness as he looked at his seed that served as art on your body. “Here, open your mouth, c-can you do it again for me? Please?”

Jamil Viper x Reader

Giving

Jamil has also been a giver for most if not all of his life. As we’ve come to find out, he isn’t extremely happy about being a giver and in turn putting himself and his desires after.

However, when it comes to you, Jamil wants to give you so much, at least as much as he can within his power. Nobody has cared this much about him romantically to a point where he can feel like he can be himself.

Jamil convinced to teach you how to make one of your favorite dishes of his in Scarabia’s kitchen, his hands grazing over yours as he stands behind you, fingers lingering over places all over your body, his touches ghosting over your ass. You hadn’t even gotten to the actual “cooking” part, only gathering the necessary ingredients and starting to cut vegetables.

Jamil’s offer to pleasure you with his mouth comes from him as he stands behind your smaller form, whispering in your ear about how he would love to taste you, making you whimper at the sound of his voice combined with his lewd words. You find yourself grinding onto Jamil, hearing a hiss leave his mouth.

After finding a clean table in the kitchen to set you on top of, Jamil makes sure to lock the door to the kitchen and make sure the coast is clear before he stalks back to your form with a mischievous glint in his eye, promptly pulling your pants down and licks up your clothed pussy.

Jamil moves the cloth to the side and skillfully uses his tongue to lick up and down your cunt, then directing his attention to flicking his tongue on your clit.

Jamil’s so good at this you have to wonder how many time’s he’s done it before, but a particularly hard suck at your clit is bringing your full attention back to him.

Jamil also knows how to use his hands, bringing his calloused fingertips from basketball practice and putting them to use on your nipples.

Maintaining eye contact with his dark eyes, Jamil works you up gradually to a slow but intense climax. He holds onto your legs as you squirm in front of him. You’re struggling to find something on the smooth table to grip onto so you bring your fingers to his head, feeling his smooth black locks in your grasp.

Only moans and slurping sounds can only be heard in the kitchen as you try to keep yourself silent. “Y/N...” Jamil’s liquid honey voice calls to you. “Let me hear those beautiful sounds you’re making, my jewel. Let me hear you scream out my name as you cum..!” was all you heard before losing yourself to the pleasure once again.

Receiving

Jamil was coming by to visit you at Ramshackle dorm after basketball practice. The way his tan skin glistened with sweat never escaped you, and your gaze trailed from his eyes, to his arms, down to his gym pants. His sweat seeped through his clothes and created multiple dark spots.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, Jamil was perceptive and smirked once he noticed where your gaze was at the moment, blush coating his cheek as he chuckled. He would never push you however to do anything sexual, if you didn’t want to.

Like Ruggie, Jamil would be a bit shocked about you offering to give him a blowjob. He knew you were bold but... the fact you were offering it to him and knowing who he was, what he’s done, and you still forgave him... Jamil is absolutely shocked but he feels a certain emotion that makes his heart feel warm.

He lets you take the lead as you both lay in bed, kissing him gently while stroking him through his pants. Every grunt and pant is like music to your ears.

You crawl down so your face is near his crotch, as you pull down his pants and free his member. After a few pumps and a very visible bead of precum comes to your attention, you stare into his eyes as you take him into your mouth.

Jamil releases a low sigh, as if he doesn’t want to be heard by a single soul. His expression can only be described as admiring as you bob your head up and down his cock, stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth in your dominant hands.

Jamil covers his face with his hood, cheeks visibly red and his hair splayed messily on your bed. Suddenly, he bucks his hips up when you tongue his head, causing you to moan in pleasure.

Jamil warns you of his incoming release, telling you to go faster. You answer his pleas and suck more of him and move your hand faster up and down his dick, causing him to groan loudly and release his hot cum.

You look up and see him staring down at you with piercing dark orbs, black bangs sticking to the side of his face as he’s panting heavily.

“Let me see it, my jewel. Open your mouth.” You obeyed Jamil and opened your mouth to reveal all of his cum on your tongue, allowing it to drip onto his limp cock. “Tsk, it looks you’re gonna have to clean this up now...” Jamil placed a hand on your cheek and lowered your head again, gently.

Jade Leech x Reader

Giving

Lord have mercy I’m boutta BUST

Jade notices how tired you are when you’re both working shifts in the Mostro Lounge, seeing how you stretch your back and move a bit slower than usual. He can tell you’re nearing the end of your multiple hour shift.

Once you’re both finished your shifts, Jade offers to lend you his bed to rest on. He smirks once you turn away hehe

While you rest yourself on his bed, you take off your blazer, scarf, and hat from your uniform. You close your and you hear Jade from across the room shuffling about - removing his shoes, the sounds of his clothes being placed into his closet, his steady breathing.

Jade was beautiful. 190cm of pure intimidation, yet he was always gentle and chivalrous towards you. His stunning eyes were unique and the way he smiled at you only served to send shivers through your body. Not with fear but exhilaration.

You moved your head to sniff at his pillow, inhaling his scent of light cologne and pressing your legs together under his covers. Suddenly you hear him leave the room and you take the bold liberty to remove your shirt and pants. If he finds you, you can just weasel your way into making him believe you were too hot, right?

After several minutes of imagining Jade’s presence and his scent, you nearly screamed when you felt a sudden dip in weight on the bed, opening your eyes to see Jade’s signature smile.

Once he rips off his sheets from your body, he smirks and trails his fingers lightly along your form - from your chest, your abdomen, then finally to the waistline of your panties.

Jade bites you lightly, on your plush thighs, drawing a bit of blood and licking the wounds, making you squeal.

“May I?” Jade looks into your eyes, voice as smooth as ever. After given the signal of approval, Jade removes your undergarments swiftly and gets to work on your leaking pussy, tongue changing paces on your clit.

After a few minutes, Jade eases off. “If you don’t mind, darling...” he simply mutters as he takes off his gloves and inserts his long middle finger into your hole, earning a throaty moan from you.

Jade feels his cock leaking from the actions and sounds coming from his partner - yet he only pays attention to you, focusing his energy on pleasing you.

It feels like electricity running through you as your orgasm rips through your body - you gripping onto Jade’s bedding as you still feel him on your pussy, slowing down his ministrations as you come down from your high.

“Oya oya~ what do we have here?” Jade whispers. “I could smell your arousal from the other room, darling. Have I been neglecting you?” He feigns sadness as he raises his eyebrows and licks his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll service you soon so, please, allow me...”

Receiving

Jade was coming back to campus from one of his frequent trips to the mountains to gather some mushrooms. Some were questionable and some were edible, and Jade loved to find out which were which.

You offer to service Jade, teasingly, when he told you he was going to cook one of your favorite mushroom dishes for you with his fresh inventory.

“Oya? Don’t tease me like that, you’ll make me think you’re serious. Although, that would be nice.” He chuckled, patting your head. You huffed and started working on his pants, lowering them to reveal his still flaccid penis.

You started gently working on Jade’s length with your fingers, watching how the blood started to rush to it and make it harden. As precum leaked down his dick, you licked it from where it was on his length back up to his tip, taking him into your mouth.

Jade only offered a pleased “Hm.” as you started to move his girthy dick in and out of your mouth. You stared up to see his face, still the same expression as ever, but with a light blush across his cheeks. Were you not making him feel good..?

As if the eel merman could sense your feelings, he gave you firm praises telling you how good it feels and to keep going.

As you move faster, Jade starts meeting your pace by moving his hips to meet your mouth, chasing after his own release.

Jade makes light grunts and starts panting when he finally cums into your mouth, staring into your eyes. You swear his heterochromatic eyes glow, whether you have the lights on or not.

“Aah, darling... you were lovely.” Jade praises you and strokes your hair. “I wonder, how you’ll feel if you serviced me with your other holes...” Jade’s smile only grew as he bared his serrated teeth.

Rook Hunt x Reader

lord have mercy im boutta bust part 2

Giving

Rook Hunt is a romantic - he’s over the top, poetic, compliments you endlessly, gives you plenty of affection, what more could you want from a lover? Some may think he was too eccentric but you loved that about him.

You were in his room as he showed you his collection of photos. You knew Rook had a thing for taking candid photos of people, it was quirky and it made him unique! However, when you passed by a certain page, Rook quickly tried to take the album from you frantically.

After finally pulling it back, you open the next pages to see many photos of you from afar, close up photos of your clothed chest and photos of you in gym class, your shorts showing off your thighs shining with sweat. Around the photos were hearts on the photo covers and cute stickers.

Rook visibly grows embarrassed, furrowing his brows and looks away from you.

However, you take the opportunity to bring his chin back to face you, and plant a loving kiss onto his lips. Were you really not creeped out by him?! You already had a feeling Rook would have done something like this. In fact, the idea of him being so fixated on you only turned you on more.

“Mon amour... I’m sorry but you are so ravishing I could not resist.” Rook bites the bottom of your lip, making you gasp. He uses this opportunity to skillfully let his tongue slip into your mouth. Feeling the way his tongue moved over your tongue, you couldn’t help but whisper “I wish I could feel your tongue somewhere else, mon chasseur d’amour...”

Something inside of him awoke when you used what little knowledge of his mother tongue to speak so seductively like that. Swiftly, Rook lifted you from your position on your chair and brought you to his bed.

With your permission, he stripped you down fully naked to be able to admire your beauty. He sighed as his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your nude form.

It feels like heaven once Rook’s mouth is kissing your lower lips. He moans into your cunt as he tastes your juices - making a show of his tongue working hard on your clit. Vibrations are sent from his throat through your body as he moans while sucking violently on your clit, making you scream in pleasure.

Yet, he doesn’t stop - after he notices you really love when he does that, he keeps going. Now, he slips a finger to your dripping pussy and uses his fingers on his other hands to play with your nipples.

The overstimulation has you screaming, panting his name and squeezing his head into your thighs. You’re cumming as a blubbering mess, only his name leaving your mouth as high pitched squeals.

“Ah, Y/N, mon amour...” Rook’s blonde locks stick to his face in a mixture of his sweat and your juices as he raises his head up. “You were amazing! I wish I could have recorded that so I could watch it over and over again... you won’t mind if I did that next time, right?”

Receiving

You and Rook hadn’t seen each other as often as you’d like, recently. Whether it was with his Science club’s activities, your assignment workload being too intense, or just misalignment of schedule free time, you felt down.

You missed your blonde lover and his affection. Therefore, you hatched a plan. You had ordered a bunny suit and ears and were waiting in his room. You admired the way your thighs and breasts looked in the suit, angled his chair towards the door, sat on it with your legs crossed, and waited.

After minutes that felt like hours, you heard his footsteps and humming from outside of his room. Opening the door, Rook stopped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of you waiting for him.

He dropped his backpack to the floor, closed the door, and practically dashed to where you were sitting, falling to his knees and kissing your pantyhose clad legs.

After a few heated kisses were exchanged from this position, you got up to lift the blonde up from the floor and push him to the chair you were just sitting in.

“Roook~ my love, I’ve missed you...” you whined, unbuckling his pesky uniform pants. “Let me service you today, mon chasseur d’amour~” he groans at the use of his self given nickname leaving your mouth.

Rook watches intently as you pull his pants down and kiss up his legs, stopping where his undergarments started. Gazing up at him with half lidded eyes, you took the fabric down with your teeth, causing him to breathe heavily and moan at the sight

You part your lips and lick his throbbing pink head, tasting the precum as you sink further down his length. Slowly, you bring your head back up only to come back down, sucking his cock eagerly.

Rook had a mirror on his wall that was, luckily, facing him so he could see the view of your back and the way your ass looked in the tight bunny suit you wore. He even fawned over the little tail that was on top.

Cupping his balls and stroking his cock with your free hand and your mouth, you could feel him twitch. Rook brought his calloused hands to entwine his fingers in your hair as he feels himself coming close to his orgasm.

Rook spits nothing but praises into your ears as he releases his seed into your mouth, listening to you gag lightly. You swallow his cum and he pulls you up high enough to kiss you, his greedy tongue tasting himself in your mouth.

“Mon amour, what a little trickster you are, no? I never expected to see you waiting for me... it’s like I got caught in your trap, oui?” Rook wiped his forehead of his sticky sheen of sweat. “My, bunny... you look like you’re in heat. Why don’t we take care of that together? I’ll help you this time...”

Anyways... 

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin accidentally becomes Legolas/Katniss/Merida… you know the type;

He may be shitty at sword fighting, but Merlin begins to use a traditional bow and arrow and… actually becomes very good at it??

I imagine the first time he does it, it’s a complete fluke.

The five knights, The King, and Merlin are on their way back from yet another (frankly, ridiculous) quest.

They have been, of course, ambushed by a group of bandits, twenty to their six (six plus Merlin, though no one bar Lancelot knows about his magic, so he isn’t counted as a fighter). Though the knights outweigh them in skill, their sheer numbers makes it a… challenging, fight (meaning that they are winning, but far too slowly for their liking, and no one wants to admit it).

Now normally, Merlin hides behind a tree or in a ditch, and performs his spells quietly without being noticed, slowly helping and speeding up the fight. Except this time, the Gang was in the middle of a barren, open field, the bandits had disguised themselves with magic until the moment they attacked, and Merlin was right in the middle of all the action.

Everyone worried for his safety. There was nowhere for him to hide here, so they had to keep an eye on him, lest he get hurt (and Arthur sulked, or kicked off, depending on how badly he was hurt).

With nowhere to hide (and no branches to drop, or roots to trip people with), and one of the knights throwing a glance his way every ten seconds, he couldn’t use his magic.

He was currently on his hands and knees, Leon directly in front of him, Percival to his left, holding off four attackers between them (Merlin would marvel at how impressive that was if he weren’t otherwise preoccupied).

He keeps trying to get to Arthur, crawling between legs and over the groaning, injured bodies of bandits (he made a point to land sharp elbows and harsh knees into the more… sensitive areas), but with everyone moving around so rapidly, and the vicious swinging of swords and axes and maces inches above his head, he kept getting side-tracked and blocked and almost knocked out.

With a frustrated huff, he notices yet another bandit rounding on The King. Said huff turns into a pained gasp when he realises that Arthur hasn’t seen him yet.

The bandit raises his weapon in the air, seconds from bringing it down on Arthur’s back, but Leon is right there, and there are no branches to drop on him, and Arthur still hasn’t noticed!

The noise is too loud, grunts and yells and clashes of metal drowning out any sort of warning yell that Merlin could throw Arthur’s way, and he scrabbles around on the floor desperately; hands raking through sharp grass and over bloodied bodies as he stares in horror at the triumphant smirk on the future-King-killer’s face.

Time seems to slow (no magic, just adrenaline) as Merlin’s hands find purchase on a smooth, curved piece of wood. He picks it up without looking, at first intending to throw whatever it is as hard as he can in the bandits direction, before something (magic, instincts, periphery vision, who knows) tells him to look down.

He obeys, and widens his eyes as he sees the longbow gripped tightly in his right hand, and a stray arrow on the floor next to his left.

Merlin is no expert, only having actually hunted once or twice back home in Ealdor, when he was younger, but that was just enough knowledge for him to know roughly how to notch the arrow and fire. He pulls the two up quickly, a plan formulating in his head:

Step 1) Notch arrow.

Step 2) Close eyes.

Step 3) Magic? Hope?

Step 4) Come up with some sort of lie that explains how he managed to make the shot from sixty yards away, through a crowd.

Thankfully, it would appear that Merlin’s bad luck has given him a rest today; the first three steps go off without a hitch (the fourth will come a little later, when the battle is over), but he doesn’t have time to congratulate himself before he’s thrown into the fray, the bandits now obviously seeing him as some sort of threat.

Arthur finally defeats his own attackers, looking behind him in shock to see his unknown enemy lying on the floor, gurgling up blood and grasping weakly at the arrow through his neck. His head whips to the side, trying to find whoever had made the shot; his bewildered gaze meets Merlin’s for only a second before the servant is dragged to his feet, and promptly punched in the face.

He stumbles back and can just about hear Leon yell something from beside him but he pays it no mind, righting his balance once again and swinging his arm back, before bringing it down harshly on his newest attackers head. The resounding crack echoes over the field as the wood of the longbow splits in two on the bandit’s skull, and he drops like a sack of potatoes.

The fight doesn’t last much longer, each knight taking advantage of their enemies' fatigue, and Merlin using his now broken longbow to whack them in the shins or trip them up when they weren’t paying attention.

He was sad to see it broken, but two of his closest friends literally owned a blacksmith's, and he had easy access to the Castle’s armoury; he could get a hold of another one easily enough, as long as he survived the journey back home.

The battle finally came to a close. Everyone was exhausted, and each of them was sporting more than one hefty bruise, but they were all alive and there were no serious injuries, so they could be grateful for that. After Arthur had counted his men, and generally taken stock of things, he traipsed tiredly over to Merlin, who had abandoned his broken bow in favour of cleaning a still weeping cut on Elyan’s temple.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Merlin.”

The servant ignores him at first, biting his lip in concentration as he carefully wipes the grime away from the wound. It was small, so an infection wouldn’t be too worrying, but it wouldn’t be comfortable and would make the scarring worse, so best to avoid it if at all possible. He hums in satisfaction as he leans back on his heels, Elyan gives him a grateful smile, and Merlin finally throws a glance Arthur’s way, before focusing back on threading the needle in his hands; it would only need two or three stitches, thankfully:

“Hmm. I'm not fond of hunting, but we had to for food back in Ealdor. Except we didn’t have fancy crossbows or hunting dogs, so we had to make do with hand-whittled longbows.”

Arthur nods, frowning slightly:

“Still, if I’d known you were that good, I would’ve demanded you had a bow of your own; that way us lot wouldn’t have to spend so much time making sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Merlin smirked and quirked an eyebrow, but doesn’t look away from Elyan’s stitches, whispering an apology at the man’s wince before he speaks slowly, concentrating:

“Careful Sire, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Elyan snorts out a laugh, but Merlin tuts and lightly slaps his leg disapprovingly, and he stills again. Arthur rolls his eyes with a huff:

“As if. Hurry up, I want to get moving as soon as possible.”

~

Arthur wasn’t the only one that noticed Merlin’s outstanding shot, and over the course of the next few day’s journey home, he received a multitude of compliments from the other knights. 

Including an hour long excited infodump about the history and use of longbows from Leon, which Merlin eagerly hung onto every word of, a fond smile on his face (Leon was a noble, and had it practically beaten into him to not ramble, so Merlin always did his best not to discourage the man. That, and the fact that it was actually very interesting, and useful, if he were to keep up this charade that he was an expert marksman).

When Merlin finally had a moment alone with Lancelot, a few days after they had gotten back, he burst:

“Please please tell me you know how to use a longbow??”

Lancelot raises his eyebrow from where he was sat on the bed in Merlin’s room. Merlin was staring at him with unconcealed desperation, and the knight chuckled as he answered:

“Why? It’s not like you need any more training, that was a cracking shot.”

Merlin huffed loudly, running his hands through his hair as he looked back at the knight:

“I used magic!! I closed my eyes so no one would see and I guided the arrow with magic! Now everyone thinks I’m some master marksman! This is bad. What if next time I can’t use magic, or what if someone notices that I have my eyes closed when I fire?”

Lancelot clamps a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to stop himself from giggling, but he gives up quickly, bursting into laughter at the younger man’s panic. Said younger man fumes, sputtering as he picks up one of the knight’s discarded boots and throws it at him:

“It’s not funny, Lance! I’m being serious, this is an actual issue!”

Lancelot calms himself, rubbing the mirth from his eyes as he takes a deep breath:

“Ok ok, sorry. Yes, I can teach you to use a longbow properly. Have you ever actually used one before, or was the hunting thing a cover?”

The red fades from Merlin’s face slightly as he realises the other man is intending to help him, his panic lessening:

“Sort of. Yeah, I went hunting with a bow a couple times, but not enough to be that good at it.”

Lancelot sighs fondly and nods his head:

“Well, that’s a start at least. Come on, I’ve not got patrol until after dinner, and Arthur thinks you’re busy helping Gaius, so we’ve got a few hours.”

~

So I imagine that’s how it goes for a while.

After their last big adventure, Arthur was reluctant to head out as a group again, wanting to give everyone time to recuperate and get back into the swing of things.

Merlin’s skills with a bow were bought up constantly by everyone, news had even reached Gwen (who gave him a proud smile and a cute little dance to congratulate him) and Gaius (who raised an eyebrow, and had much better skill than Lancelot at holding in his laughter). 

Gwaine, Elyan, and even Percival were desperate to set up targets and watch him shoot shit (their words), Leon wanted to talk about the specifics of technique and crafting, and Arthur... well. Arthur sounded like he was taking the piss, but there was something else in his tone that Merlin couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Affection? Pride?

Probably not, probably jealousy and annoyance that Merlin is so effortlessly good at something that Arthur himself was average at at best.

Merlin manages to avoid it for a while, showing his “skills” off, but he and Lancelot are running out of excuses, and Arthur is starting to accuse him of being a fake who got lucky. Normally, things like that didn’t bother Merlin, and technically Arthur wasn’t wrong... he had got lucky, and cheated with magic, but that wasn’t the point. It was nice for Merlin, to be good at something, really good.

He was good at plenty of other things. Magic for starters, though not even Lancelot knew the full extent of his power in that area. But he cooked well (shown by the fact that the knights always scoffed the lot), he was a good physician (shown by the fact that the knights trusted him just as much as Gaius when it came to treating injuries and sickness), and he was a BRILLIANT servant, if he did say so himself.

But he never got any actual praise for that. Merlin hated to think badly of the knights, his friends, but they only complained when Merlin wasn’t there, never praised him when he was. Well, apart from Lancelot. And that had just started a bunch of rumours that they were... uh... boinking. 

(False. Anyone with more than two braincells could see that Sir Lancelot was head over heals in love with the newly-promoted Housekeeper, Guinevere, and that The King’s Manservant had an affinity for certain a blond prat-King.)

ANYWAY

It was nice for Merlin to have a skill that others thought worth complimenting, and with Lancelot monitoring his practice sessions, correcting any mistakes and offering congratulations whenever he did well, he hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he no longer had to come up with excuses.

Luckily, Merlin picked it up very quickly. 

Despite being clumsy by nature (though Lancelot is starting to suspect more and more that it’s all for show), the dark haired servant can consistently hit bullseyes from fifty yards within a month. The further away from the target he got, the less astounding his aim was, but that was to be expected, and another month later he could successfully hit a moving target from seventy feet.

A training session, around three months after he started properly practicing, he finally “gave in” to Gwaine’s begging. Lancelot helped him set up a bunch of targets, and fetched a bag of apples to throw.

Merlin put on quite the show, grinning at the uproarious applause he got from the knights when he hit every single bullseye, and every single thrown target. Thankfully the knowing, proud smiles between the servant and Sir Lancelot went unnoticed, and even Arthur gave him a clap on the back and an impressed nod.

~

The first time Merlin met the knights in the courtyard to find Leon holding a longbow and quiver of arrows out to him, he panicked slightly, but one reassuring smile from Lancelot boosted his confidence, and he took them with a quiet thank you.

(After the fifth time, Arthur huffed, and told him to just keep them. He was the only one that regularly signed them out of the armoury anyway, so it would just be easier if he just took possession of them.)

It settled everyone’s stomachs, knowing that not only did the group have a master marksmen, hiding in the trees and taking out enemies that they didn’t see coming, but that Merlin personally now had more than his frankly horrifying (or... horrifying as far as they were concerned) stealth skills to keep him safe.

And that (a master marksmen in the trees) is exactly what happened. 

In the early days, it involved a lot of bruises; Merlin could fire well, but firing and balancing at the same time? Took some getting used to, and involved a lot of falling out of trees at inopportune times.

The knights, Gwaine and Arthur especially, laughed endlessly at that, but quickly stopped after a particularly tired and irate and bruised Merlin fired an arrow so close by Gwaine’s crotch, that it stuck his trousers fast into the tree just behind him.

At first, it was meant to be just as back-up; Merlin was no knight. He still refused to wear armour, and Arthur didn’t want his manservant to make himself a target... at least that was his excuse.

Really, it was because (as far as Arthur was aware) Merlin had never deliberately killed before. Even now, years into his Kingship, and even longer into his knighthood, Arthur hated killing; it made him sick, and took a lot of practice at compartmentalization before it no longer bothered him as much.

Merlin was his manservant, his (best) friend, the love of his life (secretly). He was not a warrior, he was not meant to kill, he was meant to be protected from that.

But alas, Merlin did not get the memo, and the first patrol he went on with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, he killed at least five bandits.

After the fight, it was Leon who approached him first, a concerned look on his face despite Merlin’s nonchalant expression as he checked over the string for wear and tear:

“Are you feeling alright, Merlin? You got a few good shots in there, you’re not feeling sick?”

Merlin looked up at the hand on his shoulder and the soft words, a confused look on his face:

“Why would being good make me feel sick?”

Leon tilts his head in sympathy, which just makes Merlin even more confused:

“The man you killed the other month was spur of the moment, protecting your King. But you... you killed a fair few men today, Merlin. I know that can be incredibly difficult at first, I just wanted to check in.”

The others had finally walked over to join them; Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and Arthur looking equally concerned, whilst Lancelot hid his proud smile. Merlin just raised an eyebrow at them:

“You seem to be under the impression that I’ve never killed anyone before?”

Everyone (bar Lancelot) looks taken aback at that, and Arthur frowns whilst Leon drops his hand in shock. The King speaks slowly:

“Merlin, are you telling us you’ve killed people before?”

The manservant clenches his jaw at that and looks back down at his bow, resuming his checking of the string and its knots. He speaks lowly, and the knights can tell it’s not a topic he’s fond of:

“Hmm. It’s a tough world, Sire. I’ve done what I had to, to keep myself and the people I care about safe.”

At his dark reply, conversation stopped, and didn’t resume for the rest of the day as everyone contemplated Merlin’s words.

That is, until he was the first one to successfully catch dinner later that evening. At which he got an incredulous look from Arthur when he made it back to camp with his half of the patrol:

“I thought you despised hunting??”

Merlin didn’t look up from the hares he was skinning, and the rest of the knights tuned in, curious:

“No. I hate hunting for sport; it shows hubris and cruelty. Hunting for food is not only necessary and natural, but humbling, if you do it right and honour every part of the creature.”

Arthur, ever the eloquent one, stared at him blankly, and said, rather dumbly:

“...What?”

Merlin huffed, finally looking up:

“Going after helpless animals on horseback with crossbows and hunting dogs is like giving yourself a huge pat on the back for winning a tournament against an unarmoured, unarmed, unconscious opponent, and then calling yourself strong and brave for daring to fight in the first place. It’s an egotistical act of violence for no other reason than cruelty for the sake of cruelty.-”

The knights looks on him with shock, Percival and Leon at least having the decency to look a little ashamed. Merlin looks back down to the hares, and everyone notices the careful way he cuts at the fur:

“I’ve taken these lives to feed us as a necessity. The meat will be eaten, but that isn’t all. I’ll take the bones home for Gaius, the marrow is useful in a lot of medicine. The fur can be repurposed for winter gloves or socks. The organs and other bits that we won’t eat: I’ll take for the pigs in the farms, or the dogs up at the castle. In using every part of them we are... honouring them, in a way. As a thank-you for their... sacrifice.”

Arthur looks a little dumbfounded. As royalty, he of course had never really considered the waste that comes about with hunting, but Merlin, a farm-boy from a rural village who barely scraped by every winter? Of course he saw a deeper meaning in hunting. He would have to.

Elyan is the first to break the silence:

“You almost sound religious, Merlin.”

Merlin looks up at him, a strained smile on his face. As magic incarnate, he has a particularly strong, temperamental relationship with nature and her creatures, a bond that some might call faith. To be wasteful or cruel in any way hurts him in more ways than one:

“Not really, I just have respect for nature, is all.”

No one mentions the thinly-veiled insult, but everyone creeps closer, wanting to see the way he disassembles the creatures for future reference.

~

It’s been eight months since that first, perfect shot.

Merlin’s skills with a longbow had become a normal, expected part of The Gang’s experiences, but the knights never stopped praising and thanking him when he saved their lives (something that Merlin still hadn’t quite gotten used), and The King had apparently not stopped thinking about it for barely more than a second. 

Yule was approaching quickly: Merlin, Gwen, and the Steward being constantly busy with preparations in the castle, the knights being run off their feet escorting emergency aid to the border villages for the harsh winter, and Arthur himself having every minute of the day taken up with speech writing, invite sending, and his other general King-during-Yule duties.

That however, was all to be expected, and of course did nothing to keep Arthur and Merlin from their annual traditions.

It wasn’t official, it wasn’t even spoken of, but the last evening of Yule, the night before the new year, the two of them always spent together.

The last feast of the year would finish, Arthur would stay to see his guests off, thank the staff for all of their hard work, and finally retire to his chambers, his tired manservant barely a hair’s breadth behind him. They would sit in front of the lit hearth (in comfy chairs that only they used), work their way through a jug or two of wine, exchange small gifts, and fall asleep in front of the fire. Their hands, dangling over the side of their chairs, seem to be creeping closer and closer with each passing year; though have yet to become entangled by morning.

This year was somehow no different, and very different, at the same time.

The King and his Manservant settled in their chairs, tired and already a little more than tipsy from the wine drunk during the feast. Arthur looked up at Merlin, the fond smile dropping from his face when he sees the other man’s features pulled into a contemplative frown:

“What’s on your mind, Merls? I don’t think I’ve seen you this serious since the start of the celebrations.”

Merlin looked up at him suddenly, his eyes wide, but he smiles and shakes his head:

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking is all.”

Normally, Arthur would raise an eyebrow and let a scathing tease on the state of Merlin’s intelligence fall from his lips, but not tonight. This is the only night of the year that The King allows himself to entertain the idea that perhaps he and Merlin were more than friends, or at least could be. So instead he resumes his smiling, and looks back to the fire, taking another sip of his wine before responding softly:

“What about?”

Merlin hums, copying Arthur’s wine-sipping, before taking a deep breath:

“The future, mostly. You, me, Camelot. Secrets and truths, and when one might turn into the other. Soon, I think... yeah. Soon.”

Arthur huffs slightly in amusement. He knows that Merlin hides a great deal of himself, but he always becomes more cryptic after a few glasses of wine, like he desperately wants to say something and doesn’t have the power to stop himself from hinting at whatever it may be.

He asks his next question good-naturedly, a smile sweetened by wine gracing his face:

“The hell does that mean?”

Merlin lets out a short laugh, looking up at the other man:

“Oh, you know. Thinking about spilling all my deepest darkest secrets to you, at some point soon.”

Arthur snorts, saying, only for the sake of keeping up the charade they’ve built:

“You don’t have any secrets, Merlin. Certainly not any that are deep or dark.”

Once, Arthur would have believed that. Then, when he stopped believing it, he was angry about it, and now? Now, he finds he doesn’t mind so much. He is confident, he has faith, in both himself and in Merlin. He knows that those secrets are there, and Merlin knows that he knows, but that’s ok. Nothing either of them could reveal would tear them apart, at least not for long, so Arthur was happy to wait until Merlin was happy to share.

Merlin chuckled at Arthur’s response, shaking his head slightly before reaching down and picking up a small wrapped parcel that he’d stowed away before the feast:

“Come on, I’m a little nervous about your gift this year, so let’s get it over and done with.”

Arthur nodded, accepting the change in subject, and set his wine down so he could pick up the (much bigger) parcel by his own chair.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. After the first gift-exchange happened, Merlin had put his foot down and made Arthur swear to not go overboard on the expense side of things. Arthur may have been a prince, and now a King, but Merlin was still just a servant/physician; he could hardly afford anything worthy of a King. 

He had a feeling that Arthur might’ve broken his word this year, but where Arthur had likely gone overboard with expense, Merlin had definitely gone overboard with sentimentality.

They swapped parcels, Merlin placing the large, heavy box carefully at his feet as he gestured Arthur to open his first. Arthur got to it, tearing the paper off without a second of hesitation, and Merlin allowed himself to smile fondly at the child-like excitement on the blonde’s face.

Arthur’s brow creased as he dropped the paper to the floor, stroking soft fingers over the worn leather of an old, well-loved book. Merlin took deep, fortifying breaths as Arthur carefully opened the first few pages, butterflies in his stomach as Arthur’s eyes wandered the yellowed paper in curiosity.

The King looked up at him, amused confusion on his face as he asked:

“Is this yours? I didn’t know you could draw, Merlin.”

Merlin gulped, and shook his head as memories of the exquisite sketches filled his mind; detail-perfect renditions of the castle, the town square, waterfalls and knights in action and people that Merlin didn’t recognise (for the most part. Arthur evidently hadn’t gotten to any of the pages with young Uther on them).

“No, not mine. This one requires a little explanation-”

Arthur nodded, carefully closing the book and holding it protectively in his lap as he gave Merlin his undivided attention:

“-I mentioned off-handedly to Leon a few months ago that I thought the lack of... of paintings of the late Queen in the castle was odd.-”

Arthur gulped at the mention of his mother, but nodded with a small smile when Merlin paused:

“-He said that when she passed, The King had everything to do with her moved to the vaults. He couldn’t force himself to destroy any of it, but looking at it, day in and day out, was too painful. We found the keys, with the help of Geoffrey, and went down to have a look, see what we could find. We didn’t tell you about it because we didn’t want to disappoint you, in case we couldn’t find anything.-”

Merlin once again looked a little nervous at this, and reached a hand out towards Arthur. When the man didn’t flinch away (if anything, he leaned into it), he moved to grip his shoulder blade, running his thumb over the exposed skin at the base of The King’s neck.

“-We found... a lot. Old clothes and paintings mainly, some jewellery. But then I found that;-”

He nodded at the book in Arthur’s lap, and tightened his grip on his shoulder. Merlin spoke his next words so quietly that Arthur almost doesn’t hear him, a soft smile on his face:

“-your mother was quite the artist, Arthur. I knew you had to have it.”

Arthur gasped softly, his eyes widening as he looked down at the book:

“You... you think my mother drew these?”

Merlin smiled at him, moving his hand to squeeze Arthur’s wrist slightly, before dropping it entirely:

“Check the back page.”

Arthur took a deep breath before doing what Merlin said, handling the book with even more care than he had before now that he knows who it belonged to. He turned to the very last page, to see an inscription written in beautiful cursive. Merlin recited it aloud, having memorised the words weeks ago:

“My dearest son, my silly sketches are able to hold only a fraction of our Kingdom’s beauty. I know one day that you will see what I see, treasure it just as much, and make it your own. You have my support, forever and always, your loving Mother.”

Arthur bites his lip harshly, lifting the book to press his forehead against the words as he shuts his eyes tightly, though that does nothing to stop the tears. Merlin replaces his hand on The King’s shoulder as the man shakes. He sniffles slightly, putting the book back in his lap, though keeping his hands wrapped around it securely, as he looks to Merlin:

“Merlin, I... I don’t even know what to say. This is... amazing. I... Thank you.”

Merlin smiles, shaking his head slightly:

“Technically, it wasn’t even mine to give, it’s always been yours. But I thought it might make a nice surprise. There’s plenty of other stuff down there, I’ll show you in the morning.”

Arthur nods his head, wiping his tears as he carefully places the book on his side table and gestures to the box at Merlin’s feet. He was itching to scour through the book, dedicating every single line to memory, but whilst Merlin had been nervous about Arthur’s gift, Arthur was buzzing about Merlin’s, and he was desperate to see the man’s reaction.

Merlin huffs out a laugh, but picks the box up, noting once again how heavy it is. He sets about removing the paper, much calmer and more methodical than Arthur had been, with his face pinched in concentration.

He frowns in curiosity as he sets eyes on the wooden box. It had a hinged lid, and a logo that he’s certain he recognises burned like a brand into the corner. He can feel Arthur bouncing in his chair slightly, and looks up at him in amusement, laughing once again when he nods excitedly back down at the box.

He lifts the lid, and takes in a shocked breath.

Inside was a beautifully crafted long bow; the wood smooth and varnished and carved, and a leather quiver. The patterns embossed in the leather and carved in to the metal at the base, match those carved into the wood of the bow, and Merlin traces soft fingers over the intricate swirls, stopping with a teary smile at the Pendragon crest, carved just next to a Merlin bird.

He lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding as he looks up at the excited King:

“Arthur this is beautiful. Gods I almost don’t want to touch it, I feel like it should be on display behind glass.”

Arthur lets out a laugh, obviously pleased with Merlin’s reaction:

“Nope. It will be going with you every time you leave the city, and considering how much trouble we always seem to attract, I have no doubt that it will see a lot of use.”

Merlin laughs, closing the lid carefully and setting the box back on the floor, before launching himself bodily at Arthur. The blonde laughs, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle with no hesitation as the other man mutters endless thank-yous in his ear.

The servant finally pulls back, settling in his own chair again, and the two of them hope that the other puts the flush on their face down to the wine, and nothing else. They look to each other with wide grins on their faces, and Arthur breaks the stare first, taking another gulp of his wine before laughing jovially and speaking:

“Well. Here’s to an amazing year, and hopefully an even better one, starting in a few minutes.”

Merlin nods, lifting his own goblet to tap it against Arthur’s:

“Here’s to the past, that guides us-”

He gestures to the book on Arthur’s table:

“-and the future, that calls to us.”

He gestures to his new bow, and they both finish their wine off, a healthy flush to their cheeks and fond smiles on their faces.

They fall asleep in their respective chairs, the same as every year. 

In the morning, they wake with pounding headaches, a promise of a golden future, and hands intertwined.

~

THE END!!

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