#its actually making me so squirmy

[silphilis]

popping a sucret in your mouth before you suck me off to see how long i can feel it before everything goes numb <3

spitting on myself after sucking on a numbing cough drop and accidentally numbing my own asshole is giving me so many ideas and none of them are good

[hana-bobo-finch]

FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Subby! Jason Todd

Subby! Jason Todd who's practically drooling already after you've only just taken off your shirt. His big, calloused hands are grasping at your soft mounds of flesh like he cant get enough of them. Which, for the record, he can't.

Subby! Jason Todd who gets so squirmy as soon as you start touching him. The muscles on his stomach contract and twitch almost every time you even get close to touching his hard, leaky cock with it's precum dripping in such beautiful little beads.

Subby! Jason Todd who's chest is huffing and puffing with every soft stroke you give him. The large 'Y' shaped scar on his front side is flexing and contorting along with the rest of his skin, making the sight all the more appetizing as his head leans back against the headboard.

Subby! Jason Todd who can't help but buck his hips into your hand once you pick up the pace a little. The sight of his swollen, heavy, and trimmed balls bouncing with each move of his broad hips is almost enough to make you give in and fuck him, but you manage to hold out and play with him a little more.

"Come on, Jay... I've barely even touched you." Your tone is in such a sweet tone that its mocking, your lips forming a fake pout as you brush your thumb over his leaky slit.

"Ah-" he can't help but let out a soft, whiny moan in response, his hips and thighs twitching and aching to be closer to you. To feel more of your honey-sweet touch.

Subby! Jason Todd who nearly loses it when you sit back on his thighs and drag your sticky, weeping slit against him in a slow grind. The pressure on your clit is absolutely divine and, if you were down bad enough, you'd admit that the slightly unshaven hair on his pubic bone made it feel just that much better.

Subby! Jason Todd who has to actually focus on not cumming when you barely slide yourself onto his thick, girthy tip. The warm fluttering of your gummy walls was enough to have his head thrown back in utter ecstasy almost immediately.

Subby! Jason Todd who's already begging you to move faster and grasping at your hips so hard there may be bruises by the time the morning rolls around. He just can't help it: he wants to paint your walls with his thick, warm cum in thanks for treating him so well.

Subby! Jason Todd who is absolutely slobbering all over your breasts. He can barely even go a minute without one of your fleshy mounds bouncing around in his mouth while his tongue swirls around your perky nipple. There's saliva dripping everywhere, but the sight of Jason drooling all over himself is just too good to resist.

Subby! Jason Todd who is absolutely gone as soon as you start praising him. Sure, he was riding the edge with you bouncing on his long, thick cock as it was, but your sweet words were just too much.

"Such... Such a good boy, baby..." You're cut off occasionally by the sound of your own blissed-out moans. "Being so good and letting me ride you like this..."

"Oh, fuck-" before you know it, you can feel Jason's thick, pearly seed painting your gummy walls as his head is thrown back and his eyes screwed shut. But you don't stop your movements, and he doesn't want you to. The slapping sound of skin on skin is all the more obscene when mixed with his cum seeping between the two of you.

Subby! Jason Todd who happily goes for another round or two until you've gotten your fill of him. Hell, he still offers to eat you out afterwards as if he wasn't a babbling, drooling mess just moments ago.

Subby! Jason Todd who absolutely clings to you once you're both cleaned up and have gotten some food and water into your systems. He probably won't let go of you until the morning, but you knew that when you first begged for him to let you treat him as well as he treats you for once.

"I love you, pretty girl." He mumbles into your hair as he moves himself a little closer to you. You're both absolutely whipped and exhausted, but he still manages to find the strength to pull you that much closer. Sure, you'd both be sore and achy in the morning, but neither of you would have it any other way.

-----------------------------

Masterlist

[onlyyvette]

★ DAY 6 - praise | itto

kinktober 2023 - masterlist.

❏* — warnings — sub/bottom character. + dom/top reader + amab reader + praise + overstimulation + soft dom reader + soft sex + reader is hung but gentle + doggy style + dumbification + really soft and mushy

❏* — a/n — I don't even have anything to say I just love this so much<3

"You'll be a good goy for me. Isn't that right, Itto?" Despite how soft your voice was, Itto knew his opinion wasn't truly wanted. The two of you knew that he would go along with what you said. "...Uh-huh..y-yeah..." Itto's response was a little delayed and dragged out. You had been playing with his dick and his pretty little hole for the past half-hour while showering him with sweet praises, already brining him to three orgasms. Now all he could do was lay limp on the bed while he desperately waited for you to fuck him. His face was flushed a dark red on his tanned skin and his heavy chest seemed to stutter as he took in and released every breath. He was already so compliant for you, his head nearly turned into mush from the onslaught of intense yet gentle pleasure you were giving him.

You absolutely loved Itto like this. Loved reducing Itto into a squirmy, blushing, slightly dumber mess. The way his crimson eyes lay behind those hooded lids, still watching you with intense desire only served to increase your desire for the oni before you. As your fingers slowly slid inside his tight walls, poking and prodding, you finally decided to take mercy on him.

"You're so fucking beautiful Itto. So sweet when you're like this for me." You continued to praise him as you dragged your fingers across his prostate. He keened and squirmed, both the stimulation and the praise seeming to have an effect on him. "Okay baby, I'm gonna fuck you now. You okay with that?" You removed your fingers from his hole and moved your other hand to hold his face. You wanted to make sure that Itto could hear the concern in your voice— you didn't want to overwhelm his senses too quickly. Itto's tongue felt too heavy to form any coherent words, all he could manage was a rapid nod, pressing his face into your warm hand. Feeling satisfied, you slicked up your hard cock in your hand, slightly twitching as it was neglected. You lined it up to Itto's twitching hole and filled him up.

"Aahhh..uhuhh..." Itto's body felt useless as he felt you fill up his needy insides. You weren't even fully in yet he could feel the electrifying pleasure pooling in his stomach. Once you finally bottomed out, he thought he could feel your dick all the way to his stomach. He whined and brought up a hand to stroke his stomach, finding a tiny bump. "Haahhh..C-can feel you..up here.." Itto dazedly rubs the part of his stomach where he can feel your dick pressing into him and it takes you summoning all your self-restraint to pound him into the bed.

Instead, you leaned down and grabbed Itto's head with both your hands and pushed him into a sloppy kiss. Itto felt lightheaded as he tried to reciprocate but all he could do was keep his lips parted as your tongue found its way down his throat. He let long moans that were swallowed by your kiss and his walls tightened on your dick— you were going to have to make sure you didn't cum right then and there.

Finally you broke away from the kiss, a thin line of saliva still connecting the two of you as Itto tried to chase the kiss in vain. You pulled out of the oni's hole, leaving him an empty, whining mess as he begged to have your cock back in him. Gently ignoring his pleas, you adjusted him on the bed so that he was lying on his front. Itto allowed you to manhandle him into position, his body feeling heavy. From this view, you could admire his round ass and his muscular thighs and back. Once again, you pushed your dick inside his tight hole until all your length was inside of him.

This time, Itto actually came, his eyelids fluttering as his dick spurts out cum onto the sheets below him. He had no idea why, but your dick entering him again from this position made it feel like you were reaching so much deeper inside of him, which was true, but not to the extent Itto believed. The moment you slid inside of him, you pulled out slower, your dick nearly exiting his hole, before thrusting back in at a faster pace. You kept it up, pulling out slowly and thrusting in quickly before your dick let his ass.

It drove him mad.

"Uuughh...Ah! Nnhhnhn, hah--Oh! Pleaasee♡" Itto didn't even know what he was begging for, he never did. His wrecked voice just let out the very little his overworked brain could manage. All he knew was that your dick was drilling into him while you kept whispering sweet nothings to him, your hand snaking around his body and your wandering hands find their way to his plush chest and starts groping his pecs and playing with his nipples— and he came again.

This time, Itto's eyes roll back behind his hooded lids as he moans loudly, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow his head had found its way onto. Even with the pillow he couldn't hide his pleasured mewls—not hat he even had the mind to anyway. All he could do was whimper and hug the pillow as your grip tightened on his hips and you brought you body closer to his, your body right above his as you pushed him further and further into the bed. He could feel his poor, overstimulated cock rub on the silky sheets as your cock continued to ruin his ass slowly. Itto could feel another orgasm coming through the hazy fog covering him mind and in a distant part of his mind, he wondered how many orgasms needed to be pulled out of him until he came dry.

[artdcnaldson]

looove the patrick’s sister au where art is super mean to her but hear me out im having thoughts and behaving in ways

im gonna emoji sign this if i may just in case you’d like to enable me

alt au where patricks sister is just super super mean and unapologetic like patrick. think sarah michelle gellar in cruel intentions kinda. like fully a bitch and she has a craaazy corruption kink with repressed art

like mayyybee patrick mentioned art wanting to save himself for marriage or smth like that to her and her brain goes brrrrrr i need to defile him… maybe everytime arts at their house she’ll like flirt with him unabashedly… suck on lollipops while looking him in the eye… rub her ass against him pretending to reach for things… and her just having so much fun when he gets all red and flustered and hard :(

idk just some thoughts

- 🐚 (if its available)

This made me need to take a walk. Had to crack open a cold Diet Coke to address this.

But yeah :(( art comes to stay with you and Patrick a lot for summers and holidays since, y’know, he can’t exactly stay at his grandmother’s nursing home.

You and Patrick have lived in the pool house forever— pool house is actually a stupid name for it. It’s a guest house, two full bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a whole loft upstairs. It’s obscene how fucking rich you two are.

And he gets so squirmy when he’s around you and Patrick, but even more when it’s just the two of you alone. He’s been staying up in the loft, pads down the stairs after a lazy, midday nap. And it’s just you on the couch, watching a movie. It’s dark, maybe he slept later than he thought he did.

“Where’s Pat?”

You shrug, pat the sofa beside you. He sits, but leaves an entire cushion between the two of you. “I think he’s fucking the neighbor. The one with the cute curly hair.” Art flushes, ducks his head. You smile, showing off pretty teeth. “Aw… I’m sorry, should I have said he’s making love to the neighbor?”

“Shut up,” he mutters. He’s pink to the tips of his ears.

It’s interesting, you think, that he told Patrick he’s saving himself. It’s sweet, very… admirable. But it’s such a fucking waste. He looks so yummy in his flannel pajama pants and grey tank top that shows off his muscles.

“So, you’re a virgin?” You ask, turning to face him. His eyes go wide before his face twists in annoyance. He splutters out weak— what did Pat say— That’s none of your business— you’re so out of line— but you interrupt. “No need to be shy about it, Art. I think it’s… very cute you want to wait until your wedding night. I’m sure you’ll have a really riveting time figuring out where it goes.”

“Shut up.” It’s the second time he’s said it that night. He really needs to work on his comebacks.

“I can give you a hint,” you say with a grin, scooting across the empty cushion until your knees touch. “There are two main holes down there, and it’s the one that gets all slick and wet when she’s turned on.” He clenches his jaw, looks away.

You laugh and sit back, only slightly. “Aren’t you going to thank me for the tip?”

He turns back, eyes narrowed. “You’re not very funny.”

“Was I joking?” You trail a finger up his arm, give him a crooked smile. “Really, Art, it’s sweet. Maybe I should’ve saved my virginity for a nicer boy instead of losing it in the golf cart shed at the country club.”

He stammers. “You— you could always—“ he can’t even meet your gaze, it’s too humiliating. The smug expression you wear pins him in place. “Start now. Promise to not have sex anymore, not until it’s with someone you love. It’s— it’s more special that way.”

You stick out your bottom lip. “You think I deserve special?” You ask softly. He shivers as your fingers trace swirls onto his chest. “That I need candles and rose petals and soft jazz music when someone stuffs me full of their cock?”

It’s too precious. Too good. His cheeks flame and he sits back. He stands suddenly, doesn’t even look at you as he marches back upstairs. You grin and listen to the sound of the shower turning on upstairs.

You wait until you hear the scrape of the shower curtain closing to pad upstairs and sit outside of the door. A smug grin spreads across your lips at the sound of him jerking off.

All whiny, poorly muffled moans, the slick sound of him beating his dick. All, ah! ah! ah! oh, fuck! god— fuck! You can tell when he cums based on how pitchy and whiny he gets, and the way you hear his head knock against the tile.

You fight the urge to let him know you heard, instead you slip back downstairs. When he comes down, you’ve switched the movie, act like you’d never left at all. You can see the guilt in his expression, like he knew he’d done something bad.

God, he’d be so easy.

[blushy-tigerrr]

story time with tiger!

so, as you know from my post earlier, i was blessed to be able to spend the past six days with @applesyaboi :3 it has truly been the time of my life getting to hang out with this lovely human for so long, and as i’m writing this post while waiting in the airport to fly back home, i already miss him so much.

the whole story is under the cut if you’re interested in reading, but before we get into that, we did make content :3 but i will be waiting to share them as a celebration for reaching 400 followers as i am only 10 away from that amazing milestone!

anyway, here’s the story <3

let’s start at the beginning: may 30th. apples and i had been chatting and becoming very close friends for about a month when we really started talking about the idea of us meeting up and spending some time together. we had talked about it in a hypothetical sense a bunch, but this was when the actual planning happened. we both determined that august would be the best month, and we then decided on august 8th-13th! it worked out really nicely with my job and him moving into his own apartment a little bit before then. shortly after that, i bought my ticket on june 8th.

and then the waiting began.

let me tell you, that was the roughest part, second only to having to leave today. i went through some really tough stuff during that waiting period, and apples was constantly there as a support system for me through anything and everything. that made me all the more excited to get to see him and thank him in person for how much he had done for me.

after a very long 60 days of waiting, the day finally came. i got to the airport ridiculously early in the morning and boarded my plane with little issue. luckily for me, apples was awake when i was on the plane waiting to take off, so we got to chat for a little the morning of! and it was mostly just “AHHH OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING!!!” messages hehe

once my plane landed, i got my bag and waited at the exit for him to pick me up. once i saw his car pull up, my heart dropped in the best way. when i saw his face through the car window, my heart started pounding and i almost was scared to move, but this silly goose made a little beckoning motion to me and i broke out of that easily. when we hugged for the first time, i felt all of my stress melt out of my body completely. he gives some of the best hugs ever <3 and that was just the first of many

we were both a little nervous still on our drive to his place, but the nerves dissipated pretty quickly. we got to his apartment, i got to meet his cat, and then we laid down to snuggle for a bit. we were snuggled with the intent on taking a nap, but i’m sure no one is surprised to know that’s not what happened right away. he had his hand on my side and asked if i minded if he tickled me a little bit, and i told him i didn’t mind of course. he was so sweet and gentle and showered me with compliments the entire time. he’s very good at making me feel beautiful and loved and also very good at tickling oh my god he’s so teasy and constantly got me so flustered

then, because i’m a switchy little shit, i asked him the same question. he said it was okay, and guys. for as teasy of a ler as apples is, he is also soooo ticklish!! he’s super squirmy and flinchy, and his giggles are some of the cutest that i’ve ever heard <3 he told me a while ago he had never been tickled before, so i did my best to be very gentle and careful with not pushing it too far by checking in and making sure he was still having fun and was okay. he did the very same thing for me, and i greatly appreciated it.

we also tried out a few tools while i was there! none of them worked on him (scam) except for the pursonic, but that only worked in one spot for him. for me, though? that thing is the devil. it tickles so badly in just about every spot you can think of. i think apples is just broken lol <3 we also tried feathers and makeup brushes which were suuuuper effective on spots like my ears and neck and behind the knee (mean), but all of that was incredibly fun!

of course, that’s not all we did in those six days although it was majority. we also went out for food a few times, went to a sports game, and went on multiple walks around the area. however, i think the only thing we may have done more than tickle each other was snuggle together. and that? was so nice. like i said before, he made me feel so comfortable so quickly, and because of that, we were able to be so snuggly the entire time which i know we were both very grateful for.

as i’m sitting at my gate writing this all out, it’s really sinking in how much fun this all was for me and how lovely it was to have a break from regular life for a while. it was definitely very needed for both of us. apples, thank you so so much for having me these past six days. you’ve truly made me happier and more relaxed than i’ve been in an incredibly long time. it’s been so lovely to get to laugh with you and snuggle with you and just be around you for this time. thank you for being so sweet and loving and kind and understanding, and thank you for being one of the best friends that i have ever had in my entire life. i love you so so much /p <3

[pisswitch04]

Omo fic idea: Someone who has the occasional accident being super embarassed about it and thus denying ever needing to pee bc people will be all embarassing and ask if theyre gonna make it etc and then wetting even more.... Someone says they have to wear a pullup for a roadtrip and they insist they can keep dry....except its gonna be checked before batjroom breaks. And when theyre about to stop, the person leaks. So they deny they need to go to stop anyone seeing their little wet spot....and then ofc theyre all back in the car, getting ever more squirmy....

It was only like one time (and also several other times) he peed his pants, he could totally hold it. Danny repeated this to himself as he finished arranging his bag in the trunk of the car. The trip was supposed to be a fun outing with the friend group, himself, his best friend Erika and their friends Layla and Axel. That morning his friends had cornered him as he brought his bags down to the car and told him this was gonna be a really long trip and it would just be better if he wore a pull-up for the drive.

At the look of betrayal on Danny’s face, Erika stepped in front of the group and said “it’s just, you get so embarrassed about needing to pee and then you don’t ask to go until it’s too late and we don’t want you to feel bad for having an accident.” At that he sputtered “I absolutely do not wait to long and I don’t get embarrassed asking for bathroom breaks!” The bright flush on his cheeks said otherwise but the group chose to stay silent. Erika brought Danny to the bathroom, where a pull-up was sitting on top of the toilet. Seeing his apprehension Erika said “c’mon, just put it on and if you prove us wrong and make it to the toilet then you were right and we won’t make you wear one on the way back”. He grumbled about not needing it to begin with but entered the bathroom and closed the door. When he exited he was not expecting Erika to be waiting outside, nor did he expect her to pull at his waistband and reveal the top of his pullup. He blushed hard, mortified he had been exposed, but one she had ensured the pullup was on she grabbed his hand and bolted down to the car, crowing about how exciting the trip would be.

It dawned on him as they merged onto the highway that he hadn’t actually peed when he went to the bathroom to put the pull-up on. 20 minutes later and he was trying to keep his squirming to a minimum but Axel happened to look over right as he was crossing his legs, thighs clenching in desperation and now also embarrassment, and then the teasing began. Axel was not quiet about what they had seen, loudly saying “aww Danny did it again he totally has to pee but he’s too embarrassed to ask!” At that, Layla joined in, asking if he was gonna make it, then Erika giggled and said since he was never gonna fess up and say if he had to go she was just gonna have to check his pull-up every time he had a bathroom break. Danny’s cheeks were on fire, and even worse, he was absolutely desperate to pee.

The teasing continued for another minute as he fanned his legs, all while insisting he didn’t need to use the bathroom and it was dumb that they thought he did. Layla noticed a rest stop sign and asked if they could pull over since “some of us can ask to go pee when they need to”, but the off ramp to the rest stop was not well maintained and the bumps and jostling from potholes in the road caused Danny to gasp, hand shoving into his crotch. Fuck he had leaked and they were so close and they were gonna check his pull-up if he went to the bathroom! But if he waited a little the leak would get totally absorbed into the pull-up and they wouldn’t be able to see it. Yes. He just had to wait. He could do it.

They pulled in to a parking spot near the washrooms, and Erika turned, facing Danny asking directly “do you have to go pee?” Looking like a deer in the headlights, hand still shoved into his crotch he shook his head no. “Hmm ok, come with me to the bathrooms anyway?” At that she turned and opened her door, stepping out of the car. Layla and Axel gave one last look to Danny before giggling and getting out, making their way to the doors to the food court across the parking lot.

Erika opened Danny’s door, unbuckling him and pulling him out of the car, smiling energetically. He couldn’t even stand straight from how badly he had to pee, squirming constantly and refusing to make eye contact. “Aww are you sure you’re gonna make it? I can see how much you have to go and the bathrooms are all the way over there!” She said, motioning to the bathrooms only 20 feet away. “Are you gonna be able to keep your pullup dry? Or did you maybe already leak?”

Shit how did she know?! He was too busy being shocked at how Erika had known about his leak he didn’t notice his bladder spasming, stretched and weak from holding for so long. “Come on, you said you weren’t gonna need the pull-up” Erika said, starting towards the bathroom. Danny struggled to follow, now feeling the bladder spasms, the urgency catching up to him as he shuffled as fast as he could. The bathrooms were unisex single toilets, and he was too focused on not peeing himself to hear Erika follow him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them. He was almost at the toilet when his aching bladder finally gave up. He started gushing inches from the toilet. Tears welled in his eyes as he felt pee flood the pull-up he swore he wouldn’t need. Just then he felt Erika turn him around, pull his pants down and push him down so he was sitting on the toilet. The feeling of releasing on a toilet was euphoric and for a second Danny relaxed completely as his bladder emptied.

Coming back to himself he realized he had just had an accident in a pull-up in front of his best friend after she had to sit him on the toilet so he didn’t pee his pants. He sat there in mortified silence staring up at her, pee still dripping out of his pull-up dripping loudly in the echoey bathroom. While he was paralyzed with embarrassment, Erika seemed unbothered and giggled before offering to bring him a change.

She skipped back to the car, laughing with Layla and Axel, telling them they already know what happened and they’re gonna have to wait a little bit for Danny to clean up. They joked that it was risky expecting only a pull-up to keep the car dry. Erika smiled fondly, retrieving a large fluffy diaper from the trunk. She didn’t expect Danny to make it to the toilet again before the end of the trip.

[steddie-island]

Nothin' but the kitchen sink

@steddielovemonth day 3: Love is wanting to do everything with someone, even if its nothing special Rating: G | WC: 621 | Tags: Established relationship, they're domestic, post upside-down, fluff Find the full list of tags on ao3.

Everything clicked into place while Eddie was halfway through drying one of Joyce’s plates. He stopped what he was doing, his fingers tightening around the ceramic. “Steve?” “Hmm?” Steve glanced over. He had bright pink dishwashing gloves pulled up to his elbows, and there was a sudsy cup held in one hand. At the look on Eddie’s face his brow furrowed. “Hey– are you okay?” “Yeah! Yeah.” Eddie put the plate down, then turned to face the man in the ridiculously adorable polo. “I’m great, actually. I just had a realization.” At the questioning look directed his way he reached out to touch Steve’s arm. “I love you.” “Eddie.” Steve grinned and dunked the cup back into the water. “Honey, you said that when we woke up this morning, when I brought you coffee, remember?” “No, I know–” He’d said it a hundred times after the last battle with Vecna, when everyone had come out alive but a lot worse for wear. He’d said it a hundred more times the first time they’d made love, when they’d held each other for hours, like their lives depended on it. He’d said it a thousand times since then, too. Every morning when they woke up together, every night when they crawled back into bed. Even if they were both too exhausted for sex, there were always a dozen ‘I love yous’ sprinkled between them beneath the sheets. “But… I really, really love you. It just hit me.” 

He could hear everyone laughing around the TV in the living room, knew that was the more fun place to be, but that wasn’t where he’d wanted to be. 

Steve had stood up after dinner and volunteered to do the dishes, and Eddie had immediately stood up and offered to help. “You don’t have to.” Steve knew that Eddie hated doing the dishes. If he touched something in the water, no matter how innocuous it was, he got squirmy and ended up gagging so hard that someone else usually had to take over. “I want to, though.” And he’d meant it. That was the thing that kept getting him, he really did want to help. Not because he’d suddenly learned to love doing the chores or anything. 

Their family was laughing and joking in the other room, and yet Eddie wanted to be here, right here, with Steve. Because he loved him. And because Steve loved him, too, he’d smiled, shot Eddie a wink, and said, “I’ll wash, you dry.”  Steve’s heart swelled as he listened to Eddie explain it all to him, too. There was such a serious look on his face, a look he didn’t get often. Steve wanted to kiss the corner of his mouth and make it curve into a smile instead of the frown he was already sporting. “You love me so much, you want to do dishes with me?” Eddie nodded, pulled Steve’s arm the rest of the way out of the water so he could tug that bright pink glove off. “I do. I love you so much…” His other hand came up to cup Steve’s cheek. “I love you so much that I want to do dishes with you for the rest of my life.” Steve’s face split into a grin, and he leaned in to press a tender kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I want to do dishes with you for the rest of my life, too, Eds.”  

Eddie beamed, leaned in to steal another kiss, and then went back to rinsing and drying the dishes. “Do you love me enough to always do the washing part?” he teased after a few moments of comfortable quiet. 

“Yeah, Eds. I love you enough to always do the washing part.” 

[tang3r1n]

here’s my list of anime dudes and chicks who’d fuck with eating ass and why;

(tw, i allude to dark subjects at some points, please be cautious and keep yourself and your mind safe <3)

animes; one piece, jjk, mha, aot

sanji— he’d be weird abt it, too loud, too wet, too gross abt it, idk man he’d be NEEEAAASSSTY.

zoro— not weird but he’d be like…so in love with your ass. like you gotta beg him to touch your clit cause he’s so focused on ur booty

law— hrrngh. hnnngfh- mmmmph.. love him. anyways, another one obsessed with ass but he’d be that sleaze who licks from your clit to asshole. like he edges you by just licking long stripes from one hole to the other reeeaalll slow. fingerbangs you like a MOTHER FUCKER while eating ur ass tho, like the kinda fast that looks like it hurts but feels fucking fantastic

luffy— obviously. no duh. no shit. he’s feral with it, but like law he switches between pussy and ass.. okay wait nvm he leans towards ur ass more imo, more stuff to actually ingest ig

doffy— he doesn’t wanna admit that he’s so fucking into ass, like the sight of a lil booty hole and he’s rock fucking hard, so he makes it a humiliation thing. like he’s making you feel pathetic and horrible for cumming from your ass like his dick isn’t sore as fuck and he’s cumming dry.

i really wanna say shanks. i really wanna fucking say shanks…. i’m saying shanks. he’d be lazy abt it tho, mainly eats you out to get your ready for his dick ngl, more of an ass fucker than an ass eater.

KIDD. KIDD. ON GOD. he’d be like doffy except he’s open abt LOVING ass AND humiliating you. he’s so fucking mean and on his knees slurping and sucking and fucking. deco loves biting your ass so hard you bleed. he’d fuck dry. yes he would.

hrrngk- nami<3– yall i have a PHAT crush on nami.. obsessed with her being obsessed over her bestie. anyways. FUCK. GOD. she’ll never fucking tell you abt it, never ever, but you can always feel her thumbs twitching near your lil pucker when she goes down on you, BIIIGGG into spanking tho. bitch leaves marks through jeans.

gojo— it’s gojo satoru, of course he’s into ass. he is THE man. THE MAN. he’s gonna eat ass, he’s gonna eat pussy, he’s gonna cum in ur mouth and make out, he’s gonna cum in your holes and eat it out. nasty mf with nasty desires.

g-..hm..yeah geto— he’d also be a humiliator. he doesn’t REALLY like ass all that much, doesn’t mind it, BUT.. it upsets you, makes you all teary and squirmy and he DOES like that. spanks so hard you welt <3

sukuna— fuck off you know why. i-i don’t have to say anything, ITS SUKUNA

mommy— I MEAN SHOKO— big bad mommy dom who makes you eat her ass then shoved all kinds of shit in your holes <3 loves doctor play and ‘taking your temp’ the old fashioned way <3 (god spit on me…)

aizawa— UUUUGGGHHHH :( i feel like he’s one of those men who loves fucking ass more than pussy, yknow? he’ll shove a vibe up there, turn it on full blast, and make you sit on his face while he eats you out and fingers ur pussy <3 a true gentleman who cums hands free when you squirt on his face and squeal then draws you a bath <33

fat gum— too easy. too fucking easy, gang he’s another everything man, loves it all.

ende-hm. en. hm. lemme sit on it for a second.

HOLY SHIT DABI— oh such an ass fucker, such an ass eater. he likes it for the taboo, naughty, gross aspect of it. the more you hate it the more he adores it. OH LORD he’d burn lil hearts on your ass so you couldn’t sit, make you lay face down and naked so he can eat your ass out while you’re ‘healing’ (he’s gonna do it again when they’ve scarred over.)

MIDNIGHT.— shes an either-or. she’ll let you choose which she eats out but both holes WILL be stuffed.

miruko— ofc dude. like. ofc. she’s got this carrot dildo you see, BABE JUST HEAR HER OUT PLEASE JUST LISTE—

eren mf yeager, BOTH yeager brothers— zeke is just an ass man, nothing really weird, just loves bootyhole. EREN NOW. eren’s like sanji. like literally so fucking loud and so fucking annoying and so fucking GROSS. there spit and lube everywhere, he’s drenched, whined and cries when you don’t let him fuck ur ass

jean(?)— also cried when you don’t let him go through the backdoor:( he’s such a crybaby, fucking your pussy so hard you can’t breathe while his thumbs are both hooked in your ass, i bet that’d feel weird as fuck cause he uses them to pull you back in.

hange— another obvious gross one. they’d be..so hot with it. god. i love team ‘girlcock hange’ btdubs. they’re the kind to finger you while DEMOLISHING your ass, spitting on ur pussy and rubbing your clit to tight and fast you’re dizzy all while they try and dig their dick deep enough to punch your gut.

GOD I WANNA SAY FUCKING REINER BUT I DONT THINK HES REALLY INTO IT :(

yknow who is??

endeavor, i decided he’d be an ass fucker. ooohh yeeeaaahhh… he’s not weird abt it, but the SSSSECOND you say you wanna get your ass ate he’s tossing you on the bed and ripping off your pants. a snogger, shoves his face ALL up in there <3 another one who SPANKS AND SLAPS AND SPITS AND BITES. he’d be like hange, fucking the shit out of your ass with his.. yknow those like, big logs of ground beef you can buy at stores? enji, anyways, and he’s finger blasting ur cunt with two fingers cause they’re big enough that if he fisted you he’d prolly fucking kill you.

k done. can you tell i’ve discovered a new kink guys?????

I HIT THE TAG LIMIT LMFAO

[bimobuddy]

As You Wish

SFW Hazbin TK Fic

Lee!Vaggie, Ler!Charlie

Writing this because I'm going to go see the Princess Bride with some friends today, we're dressing up in Medieval style clothing, and one of the actors will actually be there, I'm so freaking excited y'all

Edit: Posting this the day after, my friend ended up picking me up early and I had to stop writing, and then I couldn't finish when I got home because I had a migraine from the overstimulation, but it was fun as hell

This sort of combines Pilot!Vaggie and Canon!Vaggie because I wanted a reason to include her being alive in the 90s to have watched the movie, so this will have some❗Spoilers❗ I know it doesn't make complete sense with the show, but please be nice to me I'm trying 💀

Summary: Vaggie shows Charlie the movie 'Princess Bride,' though the longer the movie goes on, the more she notices her princess getting squirmy and restless, which is a sign that chaos is about to ensue.

Charlie sat on their bed, bouncing excitedly. Vaggie had told her she had a surprise for her, and to go wait for her in their room. The princess didn't know what was in store for her, but she was having a lot of trouble containing her excitement.

When the angel finally did enter the room, she had a small box in her hand and a bag over her shoulder. "Okay, I would have shown you this sooner, but it's hard to get Earth items in Hell. Lucky for us though, I paid a Hellhound to get us a copy of one of my favorite movies." Vaggie held up a VHS tape excitedly. Or as excited as she could express.

Charlie practically leapt off the bed and rushed over, excitedly holding her girlfriend's arm as she bounced. "What is it?" She asked, tilting her head like a confused puppy. "This, Charlie, is a VHS tape, it's how movies were played when I was still alive. The entire thing is recorded on a tape in this box." She answered, waving the tape a little.

She walked more into their room and set the bag down. "I also asked Alastor to summon us a VCR-" She reached into her bag and pulled out a bigger, odd looking box. The cables attached themselves to the TV on the dresser. Instead of buttons, little eyes popped opened and looked up at Vaggie, the slot opening as well, showing sharp teeth inside.

"Are... They supposed to look like that?" Charlie asked, looking over Vaggie's shoulder. The angel sighed, "No, but you know how Alastor is." She smiled a little at Charlie, "Go ahead and get comfy while I figure this out." Charlie grinned and clapped her hands a little, running off to change into pajamas.

Vaggie went to slide the tape into the VCR, only for the thing to start snapping its jaws eagerly for the tape. Worried it would snap it in half, she grabbed its upper jaw to keep it from biting down, and quickly slid the tape in before letting go. The VCR swallowed it, closing its eyes momentarily before opening them again as it started a low, familiar click and whirring sound that Vaggie didn't even know she had missed.

When Charlie came back out and pearched herself up on the bed, Vaggie tilted her head and looked back down at the VCR. "It doesn't have any buttons... Uh... Play?" On command, the TV turned on and started up the movie, signaling to the angel to join her girlfriend on the bed. As previews for other movies started playing, Charlie took Vaggie's hand.

"So... What are we watching?" She asked Vaggie mentally facepalmed. "Oh! Right- It's called the Princess Bride, it's great. So there's this Princess who's in love-" "*Gasp* I'm a Princess in love!!" "*chuckle* With a farm boy named Westley- Oh you know what, just watch the movie, don't ask me to spoil it!" She grinned, gently pinching Charlie around the waist, making her squeak and smack her hand away.

As the movie played, Vaggie found herself leaning forward a little, sitting criss-cross, watching the movie the same way she had when she had first seen it as a kid. The only difference being this time she had someone leaning their full weight against her.

By the time Prince Humperdinck was knocking Westley out, Vaggie felt Charlie start to shift. And shift again. Then a big sigh. This was a pattern she was used to, that also caused her stomach to flutter with anticipation, knowing exactly what Charlie was about to do. "Oh no, don't you dare, Charlie Morningstar-" "Whaaaat, I'm not dohoing anythihing~" Charlie lied, her arms already wrapping around Vaggie's waist.

Vaggie found herself trying not to giggle along with her. "Yehes you are you liar! How are you even bored, this is like the best movie humans have ever made!" "I'm not bored! I've just got energy! And you're right there, how can I resist??" Before Vaggie could argue, Charlie had slipped a hand under her shirt to gently scritch-scratch at her tummy, something she knew the angel couldn't stand.

"Chahaharlie!!" She leaned her head back against the Princess' chest and giggled, her eyes squeezed shut as she kicked out, kicking the sheets into a messy pile at the foot of the bed.

Charlie grinned and started peppering kisses into her girlfriend's neck, causing her giggles to go a higher pitch while she scrunched her shoulders up. "Chahahaharlie nohoho- eek! Quihihihit!"

Vaggie flipped over, trying to wrestle her down, only for Charlie to pull out her demon strength unfairly, pinning her down on her tummy. Charlie sat on her back and started to tickle around her shoulder blades.

"NOHO YOU- AH NOHOHO! CHAHAHAHARLIE!" Vaggie pleaded before buring her face into the sheets to muffle her shrieking laughter and squealing. Her elbows were pinned to her sides and her hand rapidly smacked the bed, unable to handle the sensation.

-FWOOSH-

Charlie couldn't hold back her happy giggles as Vaggie's wings popped out. Ever since she found out, ever since she saw them for the first time, she fell in love with them. She thought they were beautiful. Even through their rocky moment after she found out, when she saw Vaggie approach her with her wings out, she thought they were gorgeous.

She gave the angel beneath her a moment to catch her breath before she ran her fingers through the feathers, earning more muffled squeals while her wings fluttered and tried to fold back up. But the moment they were raised even just slightly, the Princess slipped her hands underneath to scritch at the 'pits' of her wings.

Vaggie immediately cackled loudly into the bed, her legs kicking and drumming behind her. Her wings, no longer under her control, flapped wildly. She turned her face to the side, no longer muffling her laugh. "AHH HAHAHAHA! CHAHA- CHARLIHIE NOITSSOBAD PLEHEHEASE!"

Charlie was already planning on stopping but when she got a face full of feathers as a wing slapped her in the face, she knew it was time to stop. And so she did, getting off of her and laying back down, grinning, proud of herself. When Vaggie didn't immediately join her, she reached over and dragged her over, kissing the top of her head sweetly as she did so.

With their blankets kicked onto the floor now, Vaggie made use of her wings, draping them over Charlie and herself. She looked at the TV and noticed the movie was almost over.

".... Can we restart it?" She asked, looking back up at the princess. Her Princess.

Charlie smiled, pressing their foreheads together.

"As you wish."

[silverislander]

day 22: bridge

"come on."

"i am not doing that."

"caitlyn, just trust me."

"i do. i'm still not- i won't be putting that in my mouth."

"you put worse in your mouth last night when i-"

caitlyn smacks her girlfriend's shoulder and vi breaks into laughter.

"i'm serious, cait," she pleads, still grinning like she's not. "just give it a shot. if you don't like it, i'll eat the rest! it won't go to waste!"

"i'm not worried about it going to waste, vi, i'm worried about-" she lowers her voice, looking to the nearby workers, who are starting to stare. "about food poisoning, or getting some sort of disease."

vi sighs just a little too loudly, swirling the- stew? sauce?- around in her bowl. "can't believe our own sheriff would say such a horrible thing-"

"oh, come off it."

"about zaunite cuisine, really just so-"

"vi, stop."

"rude of her-"

"alright!" caitlyn relents. "alright, i'll try it."

vi's making a face like a puppy who's overheard the word "treat". "really?"

"yes. fine. just- give it here."

vi passes the bowl over. caitlyn's not particularly squeamish, but- well, she's always been of the opinion that her food should never move of its own accord, and the chunks of meat definitely seem a little too... squirmy.

as it stood, though, there was no other option, and so she turns to another longstanding principle: her father had once taught her that if one has to eat a live frog, one should do it first thing in the morning, because nothing worse could possibly happen to them for the rest of the day. it's important to her as both the sheriff and as vi's girlfriend that she experience zaunite culture, and food is part of culture, and so therefore, this is a necessary step.

before she can think more about it, caitlyn stabs her fork- her one demand was that she not eat with her hands- into one of the tentacles, takes the largest bite she can and looks intently away from the bowl as she chews. as she does, vi cheers and raises her glass of water, laughing harder.

"and? what do you think?" she prods.

it's sweet and only a tiny bit salty. not rubbery at all, actually. the sauce is a little bit spicy, not even approaching the limit of what caitlyn could handle.

"it's... good," she allows.

"told you."

"oh, shut up."

[wishcamper]

Cassian Appreciation Week Day 4: Lover

Continuing @cassianappreciationweek with an entry that explores Cassian's openness to love in its many packages. You can read it here or on ao3.

Thicker Than Water

In which Cassian loves his friends.. a lot.

CW: consensual sexual content, a moment of dubcon if you squint

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

“I thought being married would get us past the overfamiliar gifts, but I guess that was wishful thinking,” Nesta sighed, and Cassian cursed himself for the thousandth time for all the years he spent letting his guilt rule him.

The House’s warmth was a relief when it washed over his wings, and as he set Nesta down in the dining room it felt more like home than ever. She shrugged off her coat and hung it on the rack, and despite the time his stomach still swooped seeing the long column of her neck, her cheeks flushed from the wine and hours spent in the parlor of the river house.

Nesta, his wife, their third Solstice as mates since that night everything changed. Lucky didn’t even come close to how he felt having her in his life - it was a rare gift, one that he doubted even other mates experienced.

Which was why the present from Mor didn’t make him feel uncomfortable so much as sad. He worried about the ways his friend was struggling to move on, to find her place now their family had changed irrevocably.

Cassian sank into an armchair and chucked the silky undershorts into the hearth, watching the fabric curl and twist as the flames engulfed it. “I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her about it. Maybe she’ll actually hear me this time.”

He’d told Nesta the story of their ill-fated one night stand ages ago, the fallout not just with Mor’s engagement but within their found family as well. He still looked back on the whole thing with shame, but Nesta was helping him shift that, to understand and make peace with the ways he’d been harmed, to discern what was and wasn’t his duty to bear.

“It’s not your fault,” she said as if reading his thoughts, coming behind his chair to drape herself over his shoulders. Her hair smelled of vanilla and cinnamon when she buried her face in his neck, voice thick with drink and drowsiness. “I can’t say it’s surprising, the way all of you are with each other. If I didn’t know, I’d assume you’d have been with at least one of them.”

“What does that mean?”

Cassian frowned as Nesta tapped a careful finger against her lips and moved to pour herself a nightcap, her words sounding measured when she finally spoke. “Your family is very.. charged. You talk about sex all the time, none of you were attached before my sisters and I came along. There’s just something not quite familial about it.”

“Hey now,” he began, but Nesta cut him off with a kiss, returning to perch herself in his lap. He drew his wings and arms around her habitually despite his offense, stealing a sip from her glass.

“Sorry love, I’ve no judgment for you. I’m certainly not innocent." She loosed the tie from his hair, her fingers soothing where they worked through the tangles he'd earned rolling on the floor with his nephew. "Besides, you’ve only slept with one of your family members, it could be worse.”

“Uh.. huh.”

“Cassian.”

He’d been distracted by the fullness of her hips in his hands, thinking of how he could persuade her to push sleep off for another hour or two. But now her words registered, igniting a nervousness low in his stomach. He flashed what he hoped was a lazy smile. “Yes, sweetheart?”

But he knew it didn’t work when her blue-gray eyes narrowed, scrutinizing, fixed him with a stare that would make lesser males cower. 

“You’re being shifty. What are you hiding?”

Damn the bond, damn her mind-reading power that would’ve seen through him without the direct connection to his fucking soul. His insides went all squirmy, knots of memory beginning to unravel.

“Okay, remember how we agreed to not hold our pasts against each other?”

“Cassian Archeron, tell me the truth right now.”

“Okay fine fine, just don’t - ow - don’t kill me until you’ve heard the whole thing.”

Nesta lowered the pillow from where she’d raised it to whack him a second time, her wintery eyes flashing in the firelight.

“Spill.”

—

They’d been stationed in the Illyrian mountains for four fucking months by now, whipping the newest recruits into shape, or trying to, anyhow. Rhys wanted everyone in top fighting shape after rumors of an armada preparing to sail from the continent, and though it was a worthy cause, being away from Velaris was starting to wear Cassian thin.

But if he was miserable, then Azriel was wretchedly depressed. He was as surly as Cassian had ever seen him, and even though it wasn’t abnormal the duration of this last bout was worrisome. For weeks he’d been trying to find a way past that thick wall of stoicism, but for all his jokes and ribbing and attempts at quiet company, Az only sunk further into a deep freeze. There was a kind of deadness in his eyes that Cassian had come to associate with loneliness, or else feeling unworthy of reaching out.

So he decided to offer up one of his own frustrations one frigid morning as they sparred in the deserted ring, hoping to draw the shadowsinger out by catching him when his body was most alive.

“I’m going out of my mind surrounded by males up here,” Cassian said after dodging a jab of Azriel’s elbow aimed straight for his chin. "I have no idea how those monks in Cesere do it."

Az scoffed. “No one warming your bed?”

“Fuck no. You?”

“Not really looking.”

The village close by was more liberal than most due to its status as a trading crossroads, and Cassian had found a bevy of eager and willing females in the earlier days of their assignment. But one had to be careful to avoid spreading themselves too far - Illyrians were famous for being incurable gossips as much as they were for their wings.

Still, it surprised him to hear Azriel wasn’t even trying. They both had healthy appetites, the spymaster’s at times more ravenous than even his own.

“Yeah, sure.” Cassian smirked as they circled each other, making a show of rolling his eyes enough that Az might take the bait. He did, spinning to sweep Cassian’s feet from beneath him, but it went less well than expected when Az pivoted at the last moment and boxed him about the ear with a closed fist, making it ring.

“I mean it.”

Azriel landed a kick to Cassian’s shoulder to emphasize the point. He felt the shadows start to twine up his arm and blasted them outward with the siphon on his gauntlet, his laughter coming out in great white puffs amidst the chill.

He loved that Az never held back when they sparred. Sometimes Cassian wondered if he was the only one Azriel felt comfortable going full tilt with, the only one beside Rhys who could take him and not break. Which was why his curiosity spiked hearing of the shadowsinger’s celibacy, wondering if that restraint appeared elsewhere.

“Why not?”

He saw the frozen ground inside Azriel begin to thaw, the corner of his mouth twitching, but he quickly schooled his expression into that blank mask once more. “Don’t do this.”

“No really, why? You’re a good-looking male.” Ducking, Cassian managed to grab Az around the neck, ruffling his hair with a clenched fist like the childhood bully that still lived within him, though there was something else inside it that he ignored . “Do you not know what you’re doing, Azzie?”

Azriel struggled against him, growling his displeasure at the accusation. “Of course I do.”

At last he wriggled free, shadows swarming waspish and angry about his wings, but that fire had returned to his eyes, replacing the cold hollowness. Cassian didn’t quite know what was happening, but a thrill passed through him that had nothing to do with their sparring. There was so much that powerful body was capable of, and he couldn’t help egging Az on as he kicked out at one of his legs, stoking the flames.

“Prove it.”

“Fuck you.”

The shadowsinger’s hair fell elegantly across his face despite the sweat, and Cassian was distracted watching the sway of it, his already loose tongue unraveling more by the second.

“Like you have the balls to. You can’t handle me.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Azriel wouldn’t be able to let a challenge go, that his competitive streak would win over his better judgment every time. And Cassian could admit to himself that a part of him wanted that, wanted to keep making Az flush with rage like that, and so the taunts kept flowing.

“I’d make you cry, pretty boy. I’d have you begging for mercy before I even touched you.”

The next time Azriel came at him there was no restraint, no checking his blows, and they grappled violently, nails scraping against leather, panting breaths heating the space between them. Color bloomed high in the shadowsinger's cheeks, too deep for the cold, the exhertion.

They’d shared many charged glances in the ring over the years, the dances of combat and desire so often a hair’s breadth away from each other. Cassian usually dismissed it as an unavoidable side effect of being close for so long, knowing Azriel’s quirks more than his own. But now something blazed behind each blow and snarl, white-hot and searing, spurring him on.

“And then I’d make you forget your own fucking name.” He rushed forward and tackled Az around the middle, crushing him into the ground. “The only one you’d remember would be mine, and I’d make you scream it over and over and -”

Shadows whipped around them, lashing at his face and arms. Cassian heard a snarl and then the world flipped and he was the one pinned to the ground, face smashed into the dirt with one of Azriel’s hands splayed across his cheek, scars rasping at his stubble.

Another thrill pulsed through him, more urgent than before as he thrashed to free himself, albeit half-heartedly. The shadowsinger paused, looking down between them.

“Cauldron, Cass, are you getting hard?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

But he already knew the answer, could feel the long, hard press of Azriel through his leathers, the erratic beat of the shadowsinger’s heart in time with his own. Cassian grinned as he looked up into Azriel’s expression twisted in fury and something more malleable, consumed by the turbulence in his eyes he knew matched his own.

“Fuck it.”

Azriel yanked him upward and their mouths crashed together, a tangle of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and shoulders, their bodies carving symbols in the dirt. It was all so absurd, so surreal that Cassian laughed against Azriel’s lips, causing the latter to bite down on his own.

“Bedroom,” Cassian panted when Az pulled back, and shadows whisked them away in an instant, his back landing on the soft down of a feather bed. Azriel was still straddling him, now ripping at the jacket of his leathers.

“Get this shit off.”

They both fumbled with buckles and clasps that usually took no thought, an indicator of the building fervor, the delirium that captured both of them in its wild, wanton fist. But when their lips met once more there was a tenderness to it that surprised Cassian, the grip of Azriel’s hand on his jaw lighter than it ought to be. 

An understanding passed between them, two people who had hurt others, had been hurt themselves, and didn’t make themselves vulnerable for just fucking anybody.

Cassian’s hand moved slowly to the laces of his pants, giving Az time to decide as he watched with heavy-lidded eyes, frozen ground replaced by smoldering embers.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Az’s tongue darted out to trace his lower lip. “Always.”

“Then put your hands on the headboard.”

—

“Things sort of devolved from there,” Cassian finished with a shrug. They’d stayed up all night, only to return to the training ring in the morning clear-headed and casual, as if nothing had happened. “We’ve shared females since then, but never just the two of us. I think we needed to get it out of our systems.”

Nesta had moved from his lap and draped herself across the chaise lounge while he talked, golden brown hair spilling across her shoulders as she removed the pins. She was looking at him now with a kind of hunger in her wintery eyes, one that said she was picturing herself as the female they shared. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You two are.. Close.”

“Alright you minx, reel it back in. I don’t know if I’m ready to share you yet.”

“If that’s all I think I can live with it. At least it wasn’t Rhysand,” she said airily as she stood, and he followed her down the hall like a bird chasing the breeze, borne forth by the power she held over him. His thoughts were all a jumble - he couldn’t lie, but he had to, but then she’d be pissed, but she might be more pissed by the truth.

By the time they reached their room, all he managed was a noise like a seagull being strangled, followed by a weak, “Well..”

Cassian bought himself time shucking off his boots and tucking them in the wardrobe, trying to temper the onslaught of memories, the edges fuzzy from liquor and time. When he summoned the courage to emerge Nesta was naked, which was great, but also glaring at him over one shoulder, blue-gray flashing like a stormy sea, which was decidedly less great. 

“Cassian. Are you kidding?”

He sighed, accepting his fate as he rid himself of his shirt and trousers. “Look, it was a long time ago, I was young and drunk and curious. Shit happens.”

Nesta gave a disdainful hm! and stepped down into their giant bathtub, a cruel swish of her hips for emphasis.

“So you just accidentally came on to both your best friends on separate occasions because shit happens.”

“Yes.” He splashed into the fragrant water with much less grace and wrapped her in his arms, drawing a shriek. “Only I didn’t start it this time.”

—

He was finally sitting down, mercifully, miraculously, at rest for one godsdamn moment.

The last month had been one of the most brutal of Cassian’s life, the constant drilling, the endless training as they prepared for war. Now that he’d collapsed like a sack of bones in the armchair before the fire, he didn’t know how he’d remained on his feet so long in the first place.

As if summoned by his weariness, Rhys strolled into the house a few moments later, Windhaven’s harsh winter air sneaking in behind him. Cassian ruffled his wings and shot a dark look over his shoulder, not even bothering with a greeting.

“Close the fucking door.”

“In a bad mood, darling?” Rhys drawled, the aristocratic glide of his voice grating on Cassian’s nerves as the lordling divested himself of his traveling cloak. “I’ve just the thing to soothe your troubled heart.”

He produced a bottle of deep purple mulberry moonshine, a delicacy of Spring. It was impossible to get with the embargo on the southern court, though Cassian suspected Rhys’ stupid blond friend probably had a hand in supplying it.

He ignored the spike of jealousy, ascribing it to the headache now pounding somewhere behind his eye, and accepted the proffered glass without another word.

They drained the bottle for the better part of the evening, talking shit and one-upping each other, the ease of conversation helping Cassian relax until he’d sunk low in his chair, legs splayed long across the floor. Azriel was gone on a mission for the High Lord, and so they enjoyed the rare time just the two of them, perhaps the last time for a while. They’d all be shipped off to their individual assignments soon, and though it wasn’t confirmed Cassian knew they’d be separated, far-flung across Prythian in a way they hadn’t been since the Blood Rite.

Which was why he’d been pissed when Rhys brought a female home last night, shattering the images he’d had of sharing a meal together, drinking before the fire just like this.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Rhys asked casually, and Cassian scowled at him as his cheeks heated in a way he hoped was camouflaged by the flush of alcohol.

He’d heard them fucking in the night, woken to the creak of the bedframe, hushed moans and whispers drifting over him like a warm breeze. Rhys was going down on her from the sound of it, and very successfully if the female’s growing abandon was anything to go by. Even in his mortification Cassian had let one of his hands edge lower, biting the pillow to muffle his own labored breaths.

The memory made his arousal flare even now, loosened as he was by booze and easy company. When he looked up Rhys was smirking at him, a daring twinkle in his inconstant violet eyes.

“If you’re reading my mind I’m going to throw your bed out the window.”

Rhys’ smirk deepened. “That’s fine. I’ll just climb in with you.”

“Like I’d let you within ten wingspans of my bed.”

“You seemed fairly open to it when you were touching yourself under the covers.”

Cassian tried to ignore the spike of wanting at the words, instead downing the rest of his glass before he set it on the table with feigned nonchalance. Rhys stood and circled around the back of his chair, and Cassian assumed he was going to retrieve another bottle until he felt strong hands begin to knead the muscle at his shoulder, where his wings connected to his back. That touch-starved part of him that never got enough affection sparked alive, that wanted to both shy away from the contact and lean into its promise desperately.

“I don’t mind, for the record. We both knew. And we both liked it,” Rhys assured him. A sharp pain tore through Cassian’s neck before he could answer, Rhys following the tendon with a gentle thumb. “Gods but you’re tense. You’ve worried yourself into knots, darling.”

They were silent for a while, and Cassian let himself surrender to the pressure of Rhys’ hands, mind drifting back toward the night before as the tension seeped out of him. He had been curious about how Rhys had made the female moan like that, though at the time he’d thought for purely academic purposes. Now he felt a stirring below, curious in an entirely different way.

“Well if you ever change your tune, you’re welcome to pull back the covers and join in,” Rhys said breezily after a long slug of his own drink. “Have you ever had a male before, Cassian?” 

“No. Have you?”

Rhys hummed in confirmation behind him. “It’s not so different, you know.”

He felt Rhys’ hands roaming lower, slipping under his shirt to stroke at his chest, long fingers running through the thatch of curls at the center. Cassian’s whole body went hot, and he warred against the impulse to give in, still not sure if Rhys was sincere or just fucking with him.

“You fuck anything that moves, so I’m not sure how much weight that holds.”

It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it - Rhys was an undeniably handsome male, and even though he didn’t typically lean that way there was something comforting about the familiarity, the trust. The hands continued their path downward, undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“I have a very talented tongue, I’ve been told. Seems wrong not to share my gifts.”

“What a public service, lordling." Cassian was surprised by the gravel in his own voice, the building desire thick and heavy on his tongue. "Your subjects are truly grateful.”

“What can I say? I live to serve.”

Cassian hissed as fingers grazed his waistband. The rush of alcohol in his veins was making him feel bold, and Rhys certainly appeared on board, but the old twinge lingered, the unspoken rule.

“Are you sure about this? I mean I’m flattered, obviously, but after everything that happened with Mor I assumed we were all off-limits.”

Rhys’ hands stilled, pulling away from him. “Do you still feel guilty about that?”

“Of course I do,” Cassian murmured even as felt the loss of contact acutely, the part of him that wanted to take what was being offered, to let down his wall of self-sufficiency and be the cared for instead of the carer.

Soft lips pressed against his head, an apology somewhere inside it though neither spoke it aloud. Rhys rounded the chair to stand before the fire, a contemplative air about him.

“You work so hard, Cass, you show up for all of us without a moment’s hesitation. I know you’d die for me, but do you know I’d live in Hel for you?” When Rhys looked back Cassian saw the desire in his own eyes reflected along with something deeper, a wish to be connected, to give. “It’s not wrong to let someone else take over for a while.”

Then Rhys stepped close again and lowered to his knees on the threadbare rug, and Cassian forgot how to string a sentence together, how to breathe.

“Just relax. Let me take care of this for you.”

Deft fingers unlaced his trousers, relieving the ache only the slightest bit, which was somehow worse because Cassian was aware of just how turned on he was, how much he wanted Rhys to keep going. He ran a hand through Rhys’ blue-black hair without thinking, earning a satisfied smirk.

Then his breathing went ragged as the world swirled down to the space between them, the closing gap, before he was nothing but white-hot sensation, gripping the arms of the chair to stay tethered to reality.

“Oh, Mother, fuck that feels good.”

“Told you I'm talented."

—

“And then I went to sleep, and we never talked about it again.”

Nesta had flung an arm over her eyes as she listened, sprawled across the bed now in surrender to the images pouring through her mind.

“Just like that. Just casual oral sex between friends. I can never look him in the eye again, but I also can't wait for him to know that I know. Oh no, and Feyre? Is it my obligation to tell my baby sister that our husbands have..? Please tell me that's it."

Cassian couldn’t help but smile despite his mortification as his wife peeked out from under her arm, assessing. For all Nesta’s dramatics he knew she was listening carefully, holding space for him the way she always had. Her jokes were never aimed to wound, but rather to show him that she could handle whatever he gave her, that she wasn’t afraid of who he was and who he’d been.

“That’s mostly it.”

“Cassian.”

“Look, we’re already here.” He passed her the slice of cake the House dropped onto the nightstand, hoping some sugar might help the bitter pill go down. “I might as well tell you about Amren.”

“Amren?!”

—

There was only one bed.

Cassian had faced monsters, undead creatures, yet nothing in his two hundred years of life compared to the terror he felt staring at that single, solitary bed.

“Why have you stopped?” demanded Amren. “Did you forget how to walk through a door?”

Rhys had sent them near their southern border with Day, their first mission together since Amren’s appointment to the court. They were supposed to retrieve an enchanted mirror guarded by a cantankerous cyclops and his herd of mammoths, had been waylaid by a huge storm that blew in from the west that made flying impossible. But the warrior in Cassian was more worried about the volatile creature in the tavern attic with him now, despite her markedly smaller stature.

“I don’t even think we could share the bed.” He cast a glance around at the rest of the room, which didn’t take long considering how fucking tiny it was, the sharp cant of the roof. “You're small enough to fit in the chair if you curl up like a cat.”

Amren grew impatient with him blocking the door and ducked through the tunnel between his wing and leg to get around him. He shivered when she brushed the edge, grateful the tiny fae was now too busy surveying the room in abject disgust.

“I will not sleep in that chair. I will take the bed, and you can swallow your male pride and sleep on the floor.”

“And if I refuse?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.”

She planted her hands on her hips when she said it, but the positioning was slightly off, unrehearsed as she was from developing her gestures in this body in solitude. The effect of that in juxtaposition with her terrifying mercury eyes and awkward attempt at slang made Cassian burst out laughing. “I hate to break it to you, but there’s no way I’m fitting on the floor.”

She didn’t appreciate his words, definitely didn’t appreciate the laughter, but even she could see his point. There was barely enough room for them both to stand, let alone to get his wings in any kind of position that didn’t leave him bent like a broken parasol.

Amren scowled. “Sleep outside then, hang from a tree by your feet or whatever it is your kind do.”

Cassian let the casual cruelty roll over him, used to being looked down on by High Fae. “They’re your kind now, too, you know. You should learn about the people you serve.”

“I know all that I need to, boy,” she snapped. She was ripping through her miniature pack now, searching for something that must’ve sunk to the bottom. “Chiefly that I will sleep here and you will manage elsewhere.”

“Trust me, I would love nothing more than to not share this room, but it’s raining. So you’re stuck with me unless you’d rather I smell like a wet mutt tomorrow.”

Having found what she was looking for, Amren straightened and regarded him over one shoulder, the effect somewhat dampened by the fact she had to crane her neck all the way back at a weird angle to see his face. Cassian felt a nervousness flutter in his stomach, suddenly remembering all she was capable of, what she’d probably have no scruples doing to him. But after a moment she snorted, as if sensing his caution.

“Very well, then.”

She sneered hard enough he thought her face might split before she perched on the edge of the bed and took a swig from a flask, lips coming away ruby.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Cassian said as he removed his own pack, tucking it under the chair she definitely would’ve fit in. Maybe talking about herself would blunt her spikiness, he thought. It always seemed to cheer Rhys up. “What’s with the blood? Is it just for fun or is it part of your whole..” He waved a hand in her direction. “Image. The scary reputation thing.”

“Language has truly declined in the last few millennia. The blood is necessary. That will be the end of your questions.”

The cap of her flask screwed shut of its own accord, metal glinting in the low faelights.

“Fine, fuck. Just trying to be friendly. Do they not do that where you’re from?”

She fixed him with that eerie silver stare that promised the separation of his balls from the rest of him. “Enough. Questions.”

He took her seriously this time, darting from the room when she started pulling out her sleep clothes.

After scarfing down a serviceable meal in the tavern below, Cassian felt the tiredness settle over him like smoke, making his brain fuggy. Amren turned away from him when he returned, and he peeled off his wet leathers with as much modesty as the small room allowed, not wanting to chance asking her to step out. He could shield most of his body with his wings from the back anyway, but he felt her piercing eyes on him, the air charged with something he couldn’t quite place. At first he thought he’d pissed her off further, and was prepared to do some half-hearted groveling when a cold finger traced down the edge of his wing, making him yelp.

“Mother fuck, a little warning?”

He twisted to see Amren right behind him with her pinky raised, the blood red nail tipping it talon-sharp. “I heard these wings were sensitive.”

“Yeah, and it’s also considered pretty fucking rude to touch them without asking,” Cassian choked out when she reached up again, still reeling from the aftershocks of the unanticipated touch. Her eyes swirled like a midwinter squall.

“It was your suggestion I learn about my people.”

He knew she could scent his arousal from the feline smile that spread across her face, that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Stop looking at me like you want to eat me.”

“But you look delicious.”

He couldn’t tell if that meant she wanted to bed him or drain him dry, though neither made sense, nor did the way she knew how to touch his wings that made a fierce hunger spark within him. While it was true he hadn’t slept with anyone in a while, barely anyone outside Illyria really got it right. He suppressed a shudder, heard her sardonic chuckle. 

“My power is in the blood. The flow, the pressure,” Amren said, and Cassian understood as he felt his blood rush south at her words, even as the purr of her voice wrapped around his neck like a noose. “It bends to my will.”

“Careful,” he managed, holding back a groan. “That’s my favorite part.”

Sharp nails tapped on the outer bone of his wing, making him shudder in earnest this time. “I’d have guessed it would be this.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. This was spiraling and he was quickly losing what little ability he had to make tactical decisions. “Maybe this isn’t such a -”

“Shall I stop?”

“NO. No.” His body screamed in protest at the suggestion, and though Rhys would likely kill him for this it was too good,  “Let’s just agree that as of tomorrow, this never happened,” he panted, and when he turned Amren was grinning at him, maybe the first real smile he’d seen her make, just the briefest flash before she pounced. 

It was a whirlwind from that moment on, and he didn’t remember much save for the way she loomed over him, somehow larger than she had any right to be. The blood whizzed through his brain, making him delirious but it felt fucking incredible, like slamming back a shot of pure lifeforce. Amren’s hands danced over his wings expertly, making him see double, so that he didn’t even think to ask how she knew just how to touch them until he was splayed on the floor with his legs under the bed, more thoroughly wrung out than he’d been in decades.

“I had wings once, before I came to your world.”

Perhaps it was the naivety of the afterglow, but Cassian was surprised by the crack that formed in his heart as she said it, the pain that lingered there. She’d been right earlier - his wings were his favorite part, a constant connection to his homeland, his freedom.

“Do you miss them?”

“Every day.”

He lifted a hand to brush back the raven hair that had fallen across her face, but she smacked him away savagely, pushing off his chest to her feet. His head swam as she towered over him, hands on her hips correctly this time.

“It seems you fit on the floor after all, so I’ll be taking the bed. And if you ever speak of this to anyone,” Amren shook the flask, grinning with all her teeth. “I’ll make a special vintage out of you.”

—

Nesta was laughing hysterically now, silver tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

“I’m so glad my misery is funny to you.” Cassian crossed his arms and his mate immediately reached over to uncross them, crawling to sit astride him so he couldn’t close off again. 

“Oh my. Oh. This is..” She took his face in her hands, pressed a kiss to his furrowed brow as her laughter ebbed. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you better.”

She brushed her nose against his, gentler now, a gesture that everything was okay. “You know, it does make me feel better in a way. That there wasn’t anything special about Morrigan, because this is just who you are.”

“What, an idiot?”

“No,” she assured him, stifling the laugh that still wanted to bubble forth. “Open to opportunity.”

“I guess so? I’ve never really thought about it before.”

Nesta lay against him in answer, resting her head on his chest. He took the opportunity to run his fingers through her curtain of hair, and she hummed when he scratched lightly at her scalp, holding him tighter.

“As long as you’re faithful to me now and you’ve never slept with one of my sisters, I don’t much care. You haven’t, right?

“No way, sweetheart. Promise.”

He felt her smile against his skin, the corner of it quirked in a way he knew meant she was scheming over something, or else setting a trap. ”So…” she breathed, her tone full of courtier’s dodginess. “Who was the best?”

“You, of course.”

“Oh no you don’t.” She sat up and glared at him, though he saw the lightness in her eyes, the zing of excitement pulsing under her skin. “You opened this door, you can’t blame me for wanting to walk through it. Answer.”

“Fine. Az was the best. Hands down. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I have an opportunity you might be open to.”

Nesta dug one hand into his hair, the other tracing a line from the hollow of his throat to where their bodies connected and Cassian knew he was fucked, knew she’d do everything she could to outshine those memories, to make hers the only body that lived in his mind.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that was already true, though his motives were not entirely selfless as she slipped her night dress over her head, and they twined for hours with unbridled glee, pausing every now and then for Nesta to fall apart with laughter.

---

Me: I’m gonna write fun silly smut! Also me: *drags out the saddest fucking background info to justify it* And you can pry pansexual switch king Cassian from my cold ass dead ass hands. Also think this may be the first Amren/Cassian fic ever. Is this my legacy? Oh god.

[yuhi-san]

Slowly reading through trimax made me think about vash’s scars again. Less about his feelings towards his scars (how they are a reminder, the price he pays and all that), I have seen many posts and takes about that but more abut, well, how he treats his scars. I try to put my thoughts in coherent text.

Vash doesn’t like showing his scars too much. He generally keeps all of his body covered up when he is out and about. He knows his scars are off-putting to others and that they are not pretty to look at. Both in trimax and 98, vash does this squirmy ‘kyaaa’ thing and all that puts a funny twist to the situation.

he does make remarks about how he doesn’t like people to see, though they are more of the ‘girls wont like it because its not pretty and that lowers my chances’ kind. Which really is more a deflection from the horrifying implications of HOW someone got scars like that.

In stampede, vash is also a little sheepish and makes a comment on how wolfwood seeing is scars is ‘embarrassing’.

But other than that, he doesn’t actually seem all that embarrassed about it. He doesn’t even bother covering up after milly and meryl saw him. Especially in trimax when he is traveling with wolfwood he does his training and stuff in just a sleeveless shirt and all. Like, vash genuinely doesn’t seem insecure about his scars (or his lost arm for that matter). Him covering up seems really more a habit than anything else, not because he himself feels any shame about how it looks but to avoid peoples reaction to what they see.

(yeah yeah, we all like to think we wouldn’t be judgmental, mind our own business, not be rude and stare but scares like vashs? With metal sticking out? You sure would look and you sure would wonder at least.) and vash likes just being some dude and not drawing attention.

Like, vash covering up his scares has more to do with him not wanting the extra attention than with him being self-conscious about them. I just thought that was kind of interesting.

(so far, vash also doesn’t seem particularly hesitant to let people get their hands on him to patch him up)

[awkwardtickleetoo]

You can thank my tickle dreams for this one. (I just so happened to be really ler for George last night)

I feel like George can't handle teases about him being trapped. I'll use Sapnap as an example because he's closest to me. So in the dream George is pretty much just annoying him like a little brother would which earns him a clawed hand to the side of his ribs. He squirms a bit away so his hand jumps to the other set of ribs which catches him off guard. When he tries to get up Sapnap pulls him back down and is now sporadically getting every spot he can reach, not pinning him in any way, just pulling him back when he tries to roll away or get up. Just repeating "Oohhh, you can't get away~! You get get awaaayy~! You're trapped~! You're stuck here~! You can't get out~!" Things like that and George can't even for rebuttals, all he can do is just let out little yells in protest

funnily enough these are actually some of my favorite teases for george as well omg

bc it’s just true right???? like he would fucking. HATE that shit it would get him soooo bad, poor baby :((( he just gets so blushy and shy and nervous bc he knows it’s true so he can’t deny it or he’ll be proven wrong, which means literal torture most times, but even if he wanted to deny it he can’t bring himself to bc he’s so giddy he can barely form words other than whiny little “no!! :(“s and “shut up!!”s and so on

and like. you know george would love being thrown around like a little ragdoll, squirming in sapnap’s arms and trying to push at his hands or shoulders or head or anything like that, it would make him soooo much more giggly and squirmy and nervous and excited that it would make it even harder for him to escape. and sap knows that, so he plays it up even more than he already would, moving his hands around and grabbing george in such stupid ways, maneuvering him into whatever position he wants (especially ones that make it harder for george to get out, bc he knows he loves it), and teasing him non stop as he does so

especially when he over exaggerates it, george loves that too but it gets him so so embarrassed and bashful, which only eggs sap on, of course, how could it not when george is so damn cute when he’s embarrassed????

it’s like clockwork each time too: george annoys him, sap grabs at his ribs or sides or thighs or wherever he happens to feel like that time, george immediately backpedals and does the “no don’t!! i didn’t mean it i’ll stop i’ll stop!!” that does absolutely nothing, and then sap is pulling him into his lap and latching onto his hips <3 and george knowsssss its coming too so he’s immediately squirming and yelling before he falls into helpless laughter and fights to pry sapnap’s hands away

but then sap says “aww, where are you going? you think you’re gonna get away?? that’s so cute, poor baby thinks he can get away :(“ and now he has to struggle picking between hiding his face and shoving sapnap away, which. is not helping his escape attempt. bc how is he supposed to not cover his face when sapnap keeps teasing him exactly how he knows will get him!!! all “you’re stuck with me forever!!!” and “you’re never getting away!!” and “aw, georgie, i bet it tickles so much more when you’re trapped like this, doesn’t it, cutie?” and he’s just. a goner. all he can do is shake his head and laugh and squeak out “im sorry!!!” every so often in the hopes that sapnap will take pity on him (even tho his incredibly happy giggles ruin the apologetic words)

and sapnap knows the difference between george “squirming to get away” and george actually squirming to get away, so he knows when to stop– even if he pushes a little bit further just to hear george’s desperate pleads before he decides he’s had enough.

as george calms down, sapnap stays clung onto him, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a koala and letting george fall into another round of giggles as he playfully shoves at him again and complains that he’s “gross” or “stupid” or the occasional “let me go sapnap i hate you im not kidding” that earns him a hearty laugh from sapnap as he squeezes him tighter. they usually chill like that for a while after, sometimes with some additional gentle tickles if george is still in the mood for them (or if he happens to want sapnap to have a taste of his own medicine, which does happen, but only lasts for a little while as sapnap is much, much stronger than george no matter what the situation is).

usually they’ll watch a show after, sometimes on the couch but sometimes going into one of their rooms, and sometimes even ending the playful night with one or both of them falling asleep, but they both love every part of it no matter how it ends up going <3

[twst-drabbles]

Leona 24

Summary: Taking care of Leona is certainly different from taking care of Riddle. He hasn’t woken up yet, but that’s fine. Nothing you, as the janitor of Night Raven College, can’t handle.

(If anyone’s wondering, this is where I imagine the whole “penpals with Falena” starts. Yell about your thoughts at me if you will.)

“…It’s cold…” Leona rasped out, curling into himself as best an injured, pain-killer drugged man can do. You can’t even say if he was actually conscious or not. The low pitch, the way the words almost were indistinguishable from the drafts you’d get in your room, makes it seem as though he’s still trapped in a dream.

“I know, I know,” you mumbled either way, wiping his bare back with a towel, “Hold on, I’m almost done.”

Leona’s certainly a different challenge to bath compared to the slight form of Riddle, but at least this bed’s big enough to accommodate just about any size. He’s not as heavy as he appeared to be and he’s pliant enough, not quite the squirmy mess that Riddle was when he was trapped in a night terror.

Though, that doesn’t mean that Leona didn’t have his own troubles plaguing him while you were giving him a sponge bath.

“…It’s…cold…” He talks quite a bit in his sleep, but only these lines. Repeating the same thing, over and over again even when he’s drowning the sheets with his sweat, and even when that fever had passed.

You grabbed his shoulder, said “Alright, back you go,” and laid him flat on the bed with the towels removed. Putting Leona in loose fitting clothing was a bit of a hassle considering his rag doll like state, but you’ve had the practice. Not like you had much of a choice.

He murmured something as his head fell to the side. You couldn’t hear, but you could guess what he’s saying.

“What are you dreaming about?” You lifted his head, arranging his hair behind him so it wasn’t irritating his face. “Something you won’t ever tell me, that’s for sure. There we go.”

Prideful beings such as Leona would rather keep their dreams to the grave all while dismissing it as anything important. Dreams are often nonsensical but with magic at play, and its relationship with the imagination itself, there always that slight possibility of something more.

Will you get to know the details? Probably not. You never really ask so much as you piece it together. Heavy weighs the loneliness upon a crownless head, you suppose. Funny though, even with a crown, that shining gold wouldn’t be enough to deter that isolation.

He only really stops mumbling when you put a hand on his forehead. Not his head, not his back, not his hand, the forehead. How interesting.

You stretched, working out some of your sore muscles before a tiny knock at the window caught your attention. “Hm?”

You parted from the bed and opened the window. Outside, with gold dust flowing with the wind, a little wood fairy was waving a letter right at you. You grabbed it, making sure to toss a sugar cube their way before fastening the window shut once more.

The envelope was a fancy thing, colorful in it’s warm yet vibrant colors, like the writer couldn’t stand for the standard white envelopes that you find a lot. There was a gold wax seal that stood out, of an insignia that you don’t really recognize.

You draped yourself on the nearest chair and broke the seal.

Two letters were present inside, one written boldly in that ham-fisted way kids do when trying to keep their pen steady, and another in unique curves as though they’re not used to writing in this language.

Letters of gratitude, from both Cheka and his father, the first prince, Falena.

[harbingersglory]

do you have any beidou and miko sub headcanons? 👀 i like to think they're both brats, but i think that's just my own biases speaking haha

YES!!! heavy on the brat miko she's a brat even when domming she makes it work dont ask how. i can see snarky sub beidou too ough..

miko is peak brat. she's literally made for it. she will bully you about wanting her to sub but if you pull her hair she's melting like putty. she definitely likes it rough if she's subbing and that goes for you too. expect plenty of bites and scratches.

generally a menace in bed lbr. will absolutely test your patience trying to turn the tables on you just so you can put her in her place. she's a lot quicker and more squirmy then you'd maybe expect her to be, she can and absolutely will try to flip you over. tie her up though and she'll behave..physically, at least. she's still going to be a snarky little shit trying to rile you up until you rail her into the mattress so hard she feels it the next morning. so you better shut her up, huh?

shove your fingers in her mouth, gag her, etc. shes not complaining which. keep her on her toes and switch it up even.

she has excellent control over her tail and ears to not give away her emotions but she kinda loses it if she gets really into it. rile her up enough and maybe she'll let you pull on her tail (please do)

but she also reads as someone who would want a night where you two just go at it trying to dom the other. it really gets her worked up and you might end up bleeding a bit because she gets a little too excited. might get a scar or two in the process. her teeth hurt and she knows how to use them (all the better if you are into it)

beidou, on the other hand..where miko is a little mean (affectionately) beidou feels more snarky then outright. yknow. mean. she feels more like she leans toward being a dom to me but shes absolutely down to sub!! shes just a little surprised at first

especially if your smaller then her though shes LOVES it. shes built like a damn tank she thinks its a little funny (and really hot) and she makes sure you know it. shes crude and snarky but she actually enjoys subbing from time to time that she doesnt really mind it all that much. its nice to let you take the reins sometimes

especially anything involving eating you out/sucking you off this woman is RELENTLESS. acting like she's starved. theres something thrilling about having the tables turned from how she usually does it though. grab her hair and use her and shes putty. especially if you tie her hands up so she cant grab your thighs. she'll whine and pout about it but you both know if she really wanted to she'd snap the bonds like tissue paper.

she definitely feels like someone who prefers subbing by still pleasuring you though, yknow? rather then the other way around. she prioritizes your pleasure even when she subs and it shows!!

feel like her snarkiness really shows if you start ordering her around though. she'll pull out the captain card lightheartedly and purposely be obtuse if she thinks itll rile you up without killing the mood. she'll say no with a cocky smile and then do it anyway, etc. less of a menace then miko but definitely still up to a bit of mischief.