#its not the same any more even the long gone ones

[azrielbrainrot]

Take Me Back To Eden

Pairing: Shadow King!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Throne Sex

Description: You've dreamt of the day Azriel would come back home for so long that you find yourself at a loss now that it actually happened. Luckily, it all falls into place as soon as your eyes meet his.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, throne sex, some fingering, some dirty talk, you know the usual

Word Count: 4,2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This was originally supposed to be a rhys story but there will be plenty more opportunities to write about throne sex with him. Also this ended up actually having some plot and extremely fluffy. Hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

The halls of this castle are intimately familiar to you, having walked them a thousand times over when your closest friend lived here with his family and a thousand more working here as a maid, keeping an eye on the palace and its new residents while Azriel and his allies found a way to take back his power and his rightful seat on the throne.

You've worked tirelessly for this moment, dreamed of it more times than you could ever count, but now that the walls were painted in the traitors' blood and his intoxicating scent permeates the halls once again, you found yourself at a loss, slowly making your way to the throne room to meet him, one foot in front of the other, letting your body guide you as your mind wandered.

Azriel has been by your side for as long as you can remember, even before you truly knew what him being the heir to the Shadow Throne truly meant. Your father was exceptional at his job, landing him not only the position of Head Healer of the kingdom but also the King's private healer. This meant he spent a lot of his time at the palace, becoming an important figure in the court.

Azriel's father was cruel, manipulative and nothing short of terrifying. As much as you resented your father, you could understand why he was too scared to go against his wishes, always following every order without question, even when that included bringing you to the palace to be the heir's friend whether you liked to or not.

When your father first told you of the King's decision to let you and Azriel be friends since you were about the same age and he thought you'd be a good influence on him, you had been scared out of your wits, crying your eyes out and begging him not to take you with him, all in vain of course. You had never met Azriel before and so you expected him to be just as heartless as his father and older brothers, no one you ever wanted to spend any time with let alone befriend.

The stories circulating the kingdom weren't kind to him either - people talked of the bastard's son with poorly concealed disdain, about how he had lived locked in a tower, barely taken care of for most of his life until against all odds the shadow's chose him as successor instead of his full noble-blooded brother's; everyone seemed to think he wasn't worthy of the throne since he was the son of a maid and barely educated, completely neglected since birth, but alas the shadows had made their decision, and no one, not even the King, could go against their wishes.

Azriel was a shadow of the male he is now when you met him, too shy and traumatized to even look you in the eye or speak a word to you, sticking to the corners of the room, hiding himself as best as he could in the midst of his shadows. You were only nine when you met him, a year younger than him, and even then you couldn't imagine all the pain he had gone through, vowing to help him and stay by his side as you watched him cower away from the light, dressed in expensive clothing as if that would hide all the pain and suffering he had been subjected to.

Actually befriending him was harder than you initially thought. You spent countless days simply trying to get him to speak a word to you, almost wearing yourself out as you talked and talked, about anything and everything, trying to find something that would catch his attention and get him used to your presence. Gradually he started opening up more, answering your questions with a nod or shake of his head, and then a word or two, until bit by bit you started having full conversations, his voice rising in volume with time as well. His other lessons helped make him more confident in himself too as he found his place in the world.

Azriel told you about his mother and how much he missed her; about the treatment he endured in that cold tower and how sometimes he still wished he was there instead of next to his father; how his older brother's retaliated for not being chosen by burning his hands when he was only a child who didn't even know what it meant, how his hands still ached at the smell of fire and just the sight of the marred skin sent a stabbing pain through his heart, keeping them concealed with leather gloves most of the time. It was only years later when he let you see them and hold them in your own, the same night he told you he had been sneaking outside the palace, making other friends and traveling his kingdom as far as his wings allowed him, taking you with him for the first time.

The days you spent sneaking away with him and the new friends you made were some of the best of your life, the only ones where you had truly felt free, but sadly they wouldn't last. Shortly after Azriel came of age, his oldest brother killed his father and seized the throne, chasing Azriel and every sympathizer out of the palace and forcing him to go into hiding. You've barely seen him since then, only managing a few secret meetings over the years while he prepared to take back his crown.

Your father had been among the casualties and your family's sudden fall from grace landed you a job cleaning the palace where that hateful usurper now lived. Unwilling to resign yourself to serving the male who almost killed the only person you've ever loved, you started working as a spy, sending out encrypted letters about the movements within the palace and any important information you could get your hands on to hopefully help Azriel as much as you could.

Of course when he found out you were putting yourself in danger like that, he flew over to your house despite the search parties still raking through every corner of the kingdom. It had been the last time you spent more than a few hours with him and most of those had been spent fighting, but the memory brought a smile to your lips all the same. Even though you were screaming until your voices became hoarse, it was clear that it all stemmed from your love for each other and how worried both of you were at just the thought of the other being in danger. Azriel had also left your house with a chaste kiss to your lips, a line you had never crossed before, and a whispered promise of surviving and coming back for you, for his throne.

Taking the last turn to the throne room, you find yourself in the present, every other thought escaping your mind when you hear his voice muffled behind the door, heart swelling in your chest instantly. You only caught a glimpse of him when he first stormed the palace grounds earlier that night, unable to linger and watch as you needed to fulfill your role and help every innocent bystander escape through the back doors.

Judging by the blood and the few corpses still scattered throughout the halls, you missed a hard-won battle, but the lack of urgency in the sentry sent by Azriel to get you told you there weren't any severe injuries to worry about, among your friends at least. As excited as you had been for tonight, the thought that Azriel could get hurt kept you up for days.

The smell of smoke still lingered in the air and you found yourself twisting your hands together, wondering if the smell still brought him the same awful memories, wondering if you still knew him after all this time, if it would all be the same.

Raising a shaky hand to open the door, you find five pairs of eyes falling on you as soon as the room is revealed to you, hands reaching for their swords before noticing it was you and not any lingering soldiers, still on high alert from the fight. Their reaction makes you pause, startled momentarily before taking another step into the room when their serious faces turn into smiles.

It had been a long time since you've seen the neighboring kingdom's prince, - King, you correct yourself, - his general and his cousin. You've met them when you used to sneak out with Azriel, spent countless nights together causing harmless trouble as youths do. They had been with Azriel when you couldn't, helping him get to this point from the front lines while you stayed behind in the palace. Amren also stood by their side, the centuries old mage looked as unnerving and unruffled as ever, perhaps the best kind of ally Azriel could ask for.

Speaking of, your eyes quickly dart around the room, finding those beautiful hazel eyes at last, heart stalling in your chest when you find them already expecting yours. Azriel was sitting on the throne, on his throne, clad in black leathers as his shadows lazed around his body. His shoulders had gotten broader and his powerful wings were sitting up high behind him, unbelievably large, the blood of his enemies still staining his armor - the perfect image of a King.

A smile falls over his stupidly handsome face when his eyes meet yours, standing up to greet you immediately. This sets you in motion, your steps speeding up as your body carries you to him, barely acknowledging the rest of your friends as they excused themselves with knowing smiles, closing the door behind themselves just as you walked up the last steps to the throne, throwing your arms around Azriel's neck, a gleeful chuckle escaping him, catching you in his arms effortlessly, wings wrapping themselves around you as well.

It was almost overwhelming being able to hold him in your arms after so long, feeling his warmth against your body, his scent assaulting your senses as you breathe him in, vowing to never let him leave you behind ever again. You're unsure how much time passes before he pulls away, gently prying your face from his neck so he can study your teary-eyed expression intently, one arm still wrapped around your waist as he takes you in.

Gods, you almost forgot how downright mesmerizing he was. From this close you could count his eyelashes and every green speck in his hazel eyes, if you moved just a breath closer, your nose would bump against his, another one and his lips would fall on yours. His hand craddled your cheek, his bare hand you noted, the rough, familiar texture sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers caressed your skin softly.

“We did it,” you breathe out, watching the smile on his face grow even wider, a breathtaking sight. He leans down, kissing your other cheek and murmuring the same words back at you against your skin, relief clinging to every word.

His body was still somewhat tense against yours, wings tightening behind him every so often as his breath came out in puffs, his lips peppering small kisses from your cheek up to your forehead and then down to your jaw, trying to reach every bit of skin while you tried to check him for injuries or any other sign of discomfort, remembering he had just come back from battle.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

Azriel simply shakes his head against you in lieu of an answer, tucking himself deeper into the crook of your neck, breathing your scent in again, his hold on your body tightening as well.

“Is it too much to bear?”

When his brother took over he didn't only steal his father's shadows but also Azriel's. It had been strange to see him without those wisps of darkness clinging to his form, unnerving even, and you know that becoming accustomed to not having them by his side was the hardest trial for him to overcome. But now that his brother was dead and he finally sat on his throne, his shadows had returned to him at last, and the ones who were once his father's followed them.

“Could be worse,” he says, a shudder betraying his attempt at a leveled tone. “They like the scent of blood.”

A tremble runs through your treacherous body, the low timber of his voice as he spoke against your skin, lips brushing you with every word making it hard to keep your mind working properly. He hums at your body's reaction, tongue peaking out to lick over your pulse point, feeling your heart racing faster and faster under him.

“Azriel-”

“They like yours even more. Always did.”

The confession hangs in the air as he continues to lap up at your skin, his teeth coming out to play and mark you ever so softly, teasing your supple skin. It looked like he was barely restraining himself, trying his best to hold onto sanity while you trembled in his arms.

You knew having this many shadows suddenly singing to him had to be extremely overwhelming after so long stuck in silence, the power that came with them and now also rumbled under his skin even more so. He needed an outlet, and you both knew the blood he already spilled wasn't nearly enough.

“Let me help you.”

The groan that escaped him echoed around the room, pulling away from your neck with a harsh bite and finding your lips before you could even react, finally unleashing himself at your proposal. His shadows followed his lead as always, falling over your body as he did, twisting and turning as they roamed over you. A frenzy overtook you as well, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you, needing to feel him under your skin, so deep he wouldn't be able to escape ever again.

The lights deemed even further around you, until only the moonlight filtered through his shadows, making it hard to see when you managed to pull away and take a breath, your eyes blinking as you tried to watch him in the dark. He had no such problem of course, unashamedly studying your face as you recovered, biting your bottom lip and licking at the drool gathered in the corners of your mouth, moaning at the way your scent deeped with arousal and mingled with his own.

The lines had always been blurred at best between the two of you, fear the only thing keeping them intact in the first place, but now you didn't have to worry for his or your safety anymore, about what his or your parents would think or do if they found a weakness in the other, now you could finally give in to each other without worries.

It had always been a poorly concealed secret how much you wanted each other anyway, and now that nothing was stopping you and he was finally in your arms, you could barely keep this craving down. You could only imagine what it felt like for him with the addition of the new untamed power running through his veins and the pesky shadows whispering in his ear.

Azriel starts walking backwards until he reaches his throne, bringing you along with him for the entire way as he catches your lips between his once again, sending your mind stumbling along with your feet. When he sits down, your body naturally follows to straddle his thighs, and you pull away with a gasp, his hard cock pressing where you need him most.

The maid's uniform you still wore was thrown over your head in a flurry of movements, revealing your unmarked and unobstructed body to his hungry gaze. Unable to stop himself, Azriel leaned closer, sucking a nipple into his mouth as his hands moved all over your body, caressing and grabbing every bit of skin and flesh he could, leaving you tugging at his leathers so you too could rid him of the bothersome clothes blocking your view, as good as you always thought he looked in them.

It's only with a whine of his name and a particularly harsh tug at his black, messy curls that he pulls himself away from you and helps you take the top part of his leathers off. You had been right about his shoulders getting broader, his entire body looked more muscular too. Of course the heir to the throne had been training since he was a child and Azriel had always been a large male, but after having to literally fight to survive, he was left with cleaner muscles, and quite a few scars you had never seen before scattered over his torso, making a mental note to ask him about them later.

He barely gave you any time to fully take him in, moving to unbutton his pants without pause, settling for pushing them down only enough to uncover his throbbing cock, your attention quickly falling on it. Your hand wraps itself around him in curiosity, a delicious shudder running through him as you tighten your hold around his cock, stroking him up and down slowly, reveling in every harsh breath and the pool of desire growing in his eyes.

“I need more, angel.”

Nodding, you agree with him. “Me too.” You needed all of him, needed him to fill you up until he was the only thing you could smell, taste and feel.

He rips your underwear off unceremoniously, inserting two of his fingers inside you as slowly as his frenzied state of mind allows you to, your own body ignoring the slight pang of pain at the sudden intrusion as your hips start rolling into his hand feverishly. You were beyond soaked, the sounds his fingers elicited as he fucked them into you downright sinful as they echoed around the room along with soft moans and gasps of his name.

Azriel seemed transfixed on the way your cunt swallowed his fingers greedily, the hazel in his eyes barely visible around his blown out pupils. Gods, if you didn't stop him you think you would end up cumming entirely too fast which is why as much as it pained you to, you grabbed onto his wrist and stopped his movements, breathing out a rushed “Need you now,” when he looked up at you in question.

You used your grip on his cock to guide him to your entrance, lifting yourself up on your knees as his hands fell over your hips, helping you along, shivering when the head pressed against your cunt. Pressing down on him with a whimper, you let your weight drag you down his length slowly, throwing your head back with a loud moan at the stretch, walls fluttering wildly around him as they struggled to accommodate the delicious intrusion until he finally bottoms out, your body shaking uncontrollably on top of him.

Your lips find his yet again, getting lost in his taste as you start moving against him, his hands grabbing onto your hips hard enough to bruise as he grinds you down on him, breathy whines and moans swallowed in a passionate kiss, only pulling away when you start speeding up, moving up and down his length as his hips start meeting your thrusts, your hands holding onto the arms of the throne for better leverage, the way he was stretching you out and hitting every earth shattering angle threatening to make you lose yourself.

There was no doubt in your mind that anyone that walked by this hall could hear you, but you truly couldn't bring yourself to care about them, or that the walls were still covered in blood, or anything else for that matter. You had waited too long for this, to kiss him like this, to hold him like this, to feel him like this.

“You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of this,” he manages between pants, eyes darting around as he tries to take the maddening sight before him fully, only receiving a feverish moan in response from you, unforgivingly close to the edge as you were.

Hazel eyes darted around your body as he tried to take the maddening sight before him fully, taking note of the way you struggled to keep your eyes on him, mouth agape as the sweetest whines and gasps escaped unattended; the way your body moved with each roll of your hips, breasts bouncing as you did; and how perfectly you fit together, his cock disappearing inside you with every thrust.

His hands move down to your thighs, lifting your hips on his own now, your body simply following his lead, letting him take control as you moan out his name unabashedly. For a moment Azriel thinks his shadows, the crown and even the throne he was sitting on meant nothing if he didn't have you by his side, if he couldn't feel you like this again.

“Are you close, my love?”

One of your hands falls to hold onto his, needing to ground yourself, needing to feel him on every inch of your skin, needing to know this was real. Struggling to even breathe as he repeatedly hits every pleasure spot inside you, leaving you on the brink of madness.

“So close, Az.”

“Let go for me. Show me how sweet reality can be,” he murmurs breathlessly, obviously dangerously close himself. “Need you to give me everything, need to feel you falling apart on my cock.”

And fall apart you did, a gasp escaping your lips as an overwhelming amount of pleasure takes you under, drowning you completely under the waves as the world stands still, your body falling forward and shaking against him. Azriel keeps fucking into you, taking this new position as an opportunity to thrust into you even harder, chasing his own orgasm at the same time he prolongs yours.

You reach a hand out to caress the talon of his wing at the last minute, reminded of how sensitive they were, being immediately rewarded with a delicious whine of your name as he lets go, fucking his cum deep inside you with jerky motions until you were both spent, chests rising and falling against each other as you caught your breaths, meeting halfway in a kiss, his shadows covering your bodies once again.

Pulling away proves to be a monumental task, his lips chasing yours every time you try, having to push against his chest as you straighten your spine, trying to ignore his half hard cock still tucked inside you as he leans back against his throne, letting out a chuckle when he tries to pull you back to him and you send him a poor attempt at a glare, the smile plastered on your face and the fucked out look in your eyes making it less than believable.

“Do you feel better now?”

“I feel perfect,” he sighs dreamily, gazing up at you adoringly as his thumbs draw circles over your heated skin.

“So…” You trail off, not quite knowing what to say in this situation. After dreaming of not only having him back but also making him yours so many times, you couldn't find the right words now that it actually happened. “You're back.”

“I'm back, my love,” he confirms, cupping your cheek once again and rising up to leave a chaste kiss on your lips, the new pet name sending goosebumps traveling across your skin, your heart so full it felt like it would explode out of your ribcage.

“I had a speech ready, you know?”

“A speech?”

“I had every intention of talking to you before this happened, but words won't ever be enough to describe how much I love you.”

His words paired with the look in his eyes were making you beyond giddy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed you once more, drunk on your taste, unable to ever get enough.

“Say it again.”

Azriel lets out a delighted chuckle, pulling away so he can watch your face, taking you in before indulging you as he stares deep into your eyes.

“I love you. I've loved you for as long as I can remember,” he starts, voice soft as he did, “If I hadn't met you I wouldn't have been able to survive my father's cruelty, and if I didn't know you were waiting for me here, I wouldn't have been able to find the strength to come back and take back the throne. I owe you my life.” Tears gather in both of your eyes as he leans his forehead on yours, continuing, “The years I spent away from you were the hardest I've had to endure, and now that I finally have you back by my side, I won't ever let go. I don't want to spend even another second away from you.”

“I love you too,” you breathe, your heart so full it felt like you couldn't contain all your love for him inside.

Azriel kisses you again, tears now streaming down your faces as you cling to each other. He was right, words could never be enough to describe this moment, let alone the love you shared, but you were willing to whisper them as many times as you could until there was no breath left in your lungs.

[jjpopeshipper]

Pope is literally his soulmate. His everything. And we barely got any JJPOPE in pt2. We've never gotten them back since s2. I said it to my friend when s3 dropped, that that was the death of JJPOPE. Not even as a ship, but as BEST FRIENDS!

S1 it was John B and Kie who were close, and JJ and Pope who were close. They were all friends, but they'd pair off into duos. They were the yin to each other's yang. The sunshine to the moon. I'm so upset that s4 became the JJ show (as much as I love him) because literally every other character just stood around waiting to step in to save JJ.

Sarah is fcking PREGNANT!!!! And barely gets any screen time or time to process. John B, THE MAIN CHARACTER BTW is sidelined and literally just stands there or yells at JJ when he does something stupid. Same with Kiara. She has almost nothing to do with the plot. She even gets the cliche of being knocked out/incapacitated.

Then Cleo is still barely known at all. Great she got the last family member she had. He was ripped violently away from her and almost lost her life. Then it's never addressed again until Pope takes the k!ller's life for her.

Now onto Pope. My biggest disappointment in terms of character development. He was going to college and he was this snarky nerd who knows better than everyone. Who is logical but is still very much ruled by his emotions when confronted with big conflicts. Then he pairs off with Cleo and nothing for him. His dreams are completely gone in place for searching for treasure the rest of his life.

I'd maybe be more accepting of this season if literally any of them had a purpose besides reacting to JJ, but that's not the case now, is it?

This show falls directly into the Netflix pattern.

BEAUTIFUL, COMPELLING, ONE OF A KIND FIRST SEASON.

Then BOOM the show explodes.

Then s2 comes and we're like "ok not as good as one but its still good."

S3 comes and it's like "oh yikes... big problems with this one. But not unbearable. Has its high points."

Then s4. Nail in the coffin in terms of its CHARACTERS.

The whole reason people watch OBX is for the found family. Knowing that no matter what the pogues will find a way out and support each other.

Where was that? Where was that at all this season?

They think they can just shoehorn some bonding montages into part 1 and that'll fulfill that same need.

No. It needs to be woven throughout.

It just becomes the JJ show and I'll give props where it's due. The plot of this season is pretty strong.

As long as you don't think too much about character development, relationships or just how many shooting/chase scenes there are.

Or how the characters don't even seem to care about each other outside of their romantic relationships.

Or how the female characters are all cardboard cutout plot devices!!!! 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

Sorry not sorry. I'm over it. Probably won't tune in for s5.

JJ's death sends the message that no matter how hard you try, your circumstances are your circumstances. And, it gets worse. So might as well just accept it and gamble your life away until you inevitably d!e young.

But yay!!! Gold!!!! Gold, gold gold. That's the point, right?? Right?????

fuck jiara, i miss jjpope so bad to the point where im gonna start sobbing

[moodymisty]

Author's note: What are you gonna do? Kinkshame me?

Relationship: Mortarion/Fem!Reader (to call it a relationship is kind of a stretch you only have his last name cause the vet paperwork requires it)

Warnings: NSFW, Nonnegotiable pet play (hampter), Degradation, Dehumanization, Kidnapping(?) Stockholm syndrome, Brief mention of reader having enough hair to put into a hair tie, Collar and leash, I dunno this is weird, This is totally unrelated to the Morty and his hot wife fic as much as his (future)wife would be down for being his pet, Inspired by @lemon-russ and her Mortarion pet fic series <3 and by inspired I mean like half of this fic is the exact fucking same cause i had trouble with the last half

The festering, bloated form of the Imperium was good for something, Mortarion thought.

Logistical tasks were nightmarish beyond all belief, shipments of requisitioned goods sent from place to place in the thousands if not millions. Many shipments disappeared outright; A planet now without food, a desperate front line without weapons. Efforts doomed purely on logistical error due to the sheer amount of traffic having to be handled.

It made slipping things between the cracks quite easy, however.

The box in Mortarion's hands is small by his standards, but for a human it would be quite sizable. They had offered to bring it to his quarters but he instantly refused, and Garro reiterated to the serfs that no one- including his own men- were to be near let alone in his quarters.

Not anymore.

When he enters the privacy of his chambers his shoulders relax slightly, and he hears the soft jingle of thin metal. It's quiet now- it used to be far louder but now that your cage is a bright display of plush blankets and toys, only weight on the exterior of the cage, and the metal of your collar, create any noise.

He smiles at the wide, excited look in your eyes, your fingers wrapped around the thin bars as you rise to your knees. The little dress you wear is still clean but a decent bit wrinkled, an array of lace and frills.

He'll have to change it; Along with a myriad of other chores he'll need to go after leaving you alone for so long.

"How are you, my little pet?"

You perk up and eagerly watch as he comes to let you out, but not too eagerly.

He doesn't like when you yelp and rattle the bars. He always wants you to be quiet above all else, especially during living hours.

"I have some new things for you, excited? Sit, and I'll show them to you."

You obediently listen legs curled to one side and nod, watching as he lowers himself to the floor on one knee. He grimaces and his bones crack and pop, but he manages. You look at him a bit worried, but you know he'll be fine.

You always love when he gets new things for you; New blankets, new pillows, new toys. Whenever things break he's always quick to get you new ones. It's so exciting to see what wonderful and colorful things he gets you from all of the places he's been, stuffing your life so full of plushness, soft fabrics and pastels.

The corner of his bedchambers your cage is in far more filled that it was when you'd first arrived, stuffed with spare things and little lights. If you were to just look at him, it would be almost funny; How lively and cute your home is in comparison to himself. His desk directly adjacent to you is solid wood, covered in burns, stains, and various bottles and jars.

In the moment it's nice, the free food, the blankets, the security; But when you think about it, its...

It's humiliating.

Degrading.

You feel less than human, though you suppose that's his intent; If anyone you knew ever saw you like this crawling around on all fours like a-

If any were alive.

Your planet was vicious, unforgiving. How you'd survived as long as you had was a miracle. To live there was to scavenge and fight for day to day survival, no thinking of the long term. You don't know if anyone you knew has even survived in few months you've been gone.

Has it been months?

Here, you're showered in plush toys and blankets, bowls and bowls of food. By a primarch no less. You were plucked from the sky by a being that from the sparse teachings of your forgotten planet was a man of incomprehensible power, a military of thousands at his disposal.

You even have a heating pad; Mortarion keeps the switch within your grasp after you wouldn't stop whining for him to turn it on.

For all intents and purposes, you're pampered. You are his pet, but you're safe, well taken care of, and loved.

It could be worse.

...could it?

You are still fully cognizant of that past life, before him. But why would you yearn for it's return- to a nightmare of struggle and fighting- when here, you're pampered and pet and fed until you're plump? You don't have to worry about anything. Your primarch does it all for you. Here you can sleep in a warm bed, eat your food and wait until master he returns and you can get some time out to stretch and play.

If you're very good, and he doesn't have any duties that take away his time, he'll let you sleep on his bed with him- not complaining when you crawl up to lay your head on his thigh.

He's been busy for a few days now, multiple nights you haven't seen him leaving you alone in the dark. It gets lonely, but you're patient- napping in your bed or playing with the myriad of toys he's given you. They keep you busy, but your little mind always wanders back to worrying if he's left you forever.

Reaching for the latch of your cage he undoes it and chuckles as you eagerly crawl to the entrance, almost visibly vibrating from excitement.

It's been days, and now he's going to let you out! You struggle to contain the excitement.

He opens the box and briefly shows you a peek of the things he's gotten you, before he gets distracted by something else.

"Your hair is such a mess. Come out."

He doesn't put a leash on you, letting you come out and stretch your legs a bit before getting back down. He sits at his desk, and motions for you to come by hitting his thigh.

When you do so, he begins to undo the tie in your hair and try to redo it. You wince a bit and move, earning a grunt of displeasure from him that turns into a mild coughing fit. Once he's finished coughing and clears his throat, he speaks at you.

"Stop wiggling."

You try to hold perfectly still as he fixes your hair, styling it the way he likes it. Sleeping in your bed for the past few days has made it messy, and you didn't have the tools to fix it yourself. Master does it for you anyways. He does it the way it should be, same with your clothes.

When he's almost done, he gestures for you to turn around so he can judge his own handiwork.

Something on his desk however begins making noise, and he looks in it's direction with no small amount of disdain. When he looks back at you, he grips your jaw and mushes your cheeks upward. It doesn't hurt, but it is a bit uncomfortable.

"Be quiet."

You nod- at least as best as you can.

He lets go of you and reaches to touch the device, and a voice starts talking.

"My primarch, Lord Fulgrim is attempting to vox you."

He lets out a loud sigh, clearing his throat once again. The dry scratchiness of it is palpable.

"Is it important?"

The man on the other side makes a contemplative noise, while Mortarion's rough skin brushes against the little hairs just in front of your ear. You tilt your head in the hopes he'll keep doing it.

"Lord Fulgrim did not specify when asked."

Mortarion pets you just a bit harder.

"...Let him through."

There's silence for a moment, before the voice acknowledges Mortarion and cuts away. A different voice fills the air a few moments later.

"Leaving Terra so soon Mortarion?"

The voice is smooth, melodic, and amused at Mortarion's expense. You continue to kneel silently between his legs. You lean against his calf a bit, lazily looking up at him. He looks down at you as he talks.

"I have many things that require my attention far more than your stupid parties, Fulgrim."

The voice on the other side chuckles, smooth and music-like.

"Fair enough. Guilliman and Lion were the same." He huffs before speaking again. "You think any of them would even miss my presence?

You perk up, but remain totally silent.

You missed him!

You missed every moment he was gone. Your cheek pushes against his leg harder in an attempt to show your thoughts without words, wrapping your arms around his calf, and he rewards you with a brush along your cheek. You smile happily.

"Probably not, though I could say that about more of the primarchs than just you." The voice quiets for a moment before speaking again. "Safe travels, Mortarion."

The voice is gone now and Mortarion returns his full focus to you, so you assume it's safe to make noise; Though you don't just in case.

"Good girl. You behaved." He looks at you. "Want a treat?"

A treat? Everything he gives you is so yummy, you nod and eagerly await whatever he's giving you. He gets up for a moment to retrieve it, before handing it to you.

You've tried taking food from his hands before, but he prefers if you just eat it from his fingers.

You take the treat, the yummy flavor hitting your tongue the moment your lips pull away from his fingers. There's a small something a bit hard in the middle, but you just chew through it. It doesn't effect the flavor in any noticeable way.

While you do, he latches your leash on the d-ring of your collar. You don't complain, just watching curiously as you chew your treat. He stands a few moments later, the leash wrapped around his hand.

"Come here."

You move to where he's going before the leash has a chance to snap taut, crawling onto his bed and onto his lap when he ushers you there.

"Did you miss me? It's been a few days."

You eagerly nod, hands gripping the fabric of his tunic. His lap is too big for you to straddle outright, so you straddle one of his thighs instead. When he raises that thigh, you instantly whimper at the feeling of pressure on your core. He sighs.

"Only a few days and you're already pent up again."

He sounds almost irritated, but he's quick to push around the fabric of your little dress to press his fingers against your cunt.

He toys and fiddles with your folds until they're nice and slick, whimpering in his grasp and trying to grind harder on his hand. Once he's done playing with you, he undoes the ties of his trousers to pull out his cock. It's half hard,

He leans back, pushing you until you almost straddle his hips and his cock lays rising between your thighs.

"Go on, pet."

You're so beyond pent up, even the toys he gives you weren't enough in the days he was busy. So it isn't long of grinding your sloppy cunt along his shaft before you're desperately trying to shove it inside of you, your master watching keenly as you move about awkwardly.

After only a minute or so of sliding up and down his cock do you feel a shudder run through you as a small orgasm rides up your spine, whining and biting your lip. Just the act of slipping him inside of you and feeling the stretch was so much, sinking into your tight heat. Your hands grip the material of his clothes tightly as he coughs, trying to hold them in enough to not be too loud for you.

"Poor pet, do you need more things to keep you busy while I'm gone?"

He mumbles something under his breath, something about an implant, but you're too busy trying to fuck yourself on him to really understand what he's mumbling about through the wet, sloppy noises.

It probably isn't stuff you should care about anyways. He handles all the complicated stuff, you just enjoy the things he gives you.

He tugs on the leash once, and you feel the fabric dig into the nape of your neck as you're pulled forward. You're beginning to tire, hips aching and sore. You slow down and grind down on him, groaning between your breaths.

"Do I spoil you too much? Are you getting lazy?"

No! You aren't lazy, just tired. Your mouth hangs slightly agape open mouth breathing, as he watches you.

"Keep going, pet."

You try and gather enough strength to continue, feeling his cock shift inside of you. His groans are louder and he accidentally begins pulling on your leash as he tries to steady himself with his arms, pulling you a bit forward as he finishes inside of you. The warmth and the feeling of his hips bucking up into you and jostling you around is what pulls another orgasm from you, whining over the sound of his groans.

After a few moments he slowly pulls from you, and you clench around nothing at the hollow ache, and feel some of his cum slip from you and dribble onto his cock.

He's quiet for a moment, before he sighs. You perk up expectantly waiting for what he has to say.

"You can sleep out tonight."

Your excitement is explosive, stretching your back with a squeak he finds endearingly cute. He needs to clean your cage he says, after a few days of not letting you out, the blankets are wrinkled and food crumbs are dusted around. Some of your toys need to be refilled with whatever treat was inside of them or some of another variety cleaned entirely, a thought that fills you with joy.

He lays a blanket on the foot of his bed, one of yours, and you move to sit on it and watch as he goes to change his clothes for sleep. When he returns and climbs into his bed, you watch eagerly before crawling closer.

You curl up next to his left thigh, laying your cheek against it. You look up at him and see the hollowness of his features.

He's so ghostly, yet he treats you so well. You've tasted and seen things you never knew existed.

Life...

It could be worse.

You could be scavenging for scraps- now you're curled up on your master's bed.

He reaches down and brushes his hand across the top of your head a few times, petting you. You push into his hand in a way that makes him chuckle.

"Good girl."

[firefly-factory]

Braids, Mourning, and Timelines

Getting emotional thinking about Astor's braids and the different timelines

(Long post warning. Headcanons incoming)

I've touched on this before, but as a reminder, in my headcanon his braids all signify the most important people in his life (growing up, everyone he knew braided their hair for the same reasons)

But what I HAVENT explained is the significance of the braid that crosses over his face. Put simply, it's a mourning ritual.

When someone loses a loved one (a family member, close friend, etc) they undo the braid that had honored the loved one (these are most commonly done to either side of the face) and then weave a new braid closer to the front of their face. This act tends to be very private, and is often reserved as a moment of quiet meditation for the mourner, amidst the chaos of the loss.

The braid itself is a more public act of mourning, as its prominence on the mourner's face reminds the village that they recently lost someone. Symbolically, it acknowledges that in this moment grief and other such emotions are likely at the forefront of the mourners mind. Its placement is inconvenient, often obscuring the mourners vision slightly. It reminds the mourner that their own judgement might be similarly clouded during this time. Further, when braided with artifacts of the deceased - beads, or even strands of their hair - it serves as a tangible connection to those who are gone.

Okay, so what does this have to do with Astor? Who is he mourning?

It seems counterintuitive, considering how callous he seems in the moment, but Astor's braid honors and mourns Herod, as well as the other cult members who Astor killed in the ritual. It was a small detail, but if you look closely at this snippet of my Harbinger comic:

You can see he is wearing the mourning braid (for the first time* throughout the comic). Because he knows how this is going to end (at least for Herod) and he already hurts, despite the fact that he knows it's inevitable. He hates Herod, but it doesn't stop him from feeling

*starred because I did use this symbolism very early on when Astor's ears were cut, but it wasn't a full braid. A little detail so I doubt anyone noticed, but it's in part because this is a critical "loss of innocence" moment for Astor, and although it's treated likr a celebration by the rest of the family, all he feels is a deep sense of loss (see below)

And there's MORE

A critical part of the mourning ritual - perhaps even more so than the initial braiding - is the moment of release, when the mourner finally feels ready to return fully into society and officially end their mourning period. It doesnt mean that they don't still miss or care for the deceased, but it means that they've come to terms with it, and are more able to focus on the day to day.

There's no set time period for when someone is expected to release their braid. It varies widely from individual to individual, and can sometimes be as simple an act as quietly unbraiding the hair and continuing about your day to day. If that's what you do, no one will question it. In fact, it's a frequent occurrence for people to unbraid and rebraid their hair, as they try to make sense of the emotions and figure out if they're really ready to move on. In some cases, the mourner will come to the end of the mourning period and instead of undoing the braid, they will cut it off (and sometimes make it into jewelry, sort of like Victorian mourning jewelry)

But the thing that was making me emotional is- in the Age of Calamity timeline, Astor never undoes his braid. He never moves on. He is bound, because even though he believes it couldn't have gone any different, he's still the one who pulled the trigger (so to speak).

I'd like to think that in the botw/totk timeline, where his role in Calamity is far less active, he is able to eventually move on (because Herod still dies, even if the circumstances are slightly different).

I want to imagine that there's a timeline where Astor can finally take his hair out of the braid and live for himself <3

[minarcana]

Can Not stop thinking about urianger being fucked up over visions of the world ending and the wol dying for a solid Bit after getting tossed to the crystarium. im going to eat a brick.

[hybbat]

I do think a good chunk of the 'cringey atheist' stereotype did come from the fact that, especially americans, regardless of their actual religious status are just casually christian and refer to things through a religious filter and that isn't seen for how overwhelming/obnoxious/frustrating it is. Its absense, such as when writing a story and things like "oh god" or other casual references are remove or replaced, is seen as notable the same way people find the cast being all women or queer being 'abnormal'.

And I think more people, especially here on tumblr, should take a moment from ragging on some kid being "cringey" saying god doesn't exist or making atheist jump around like dancing monkeys to establish they're one of the good respectful ones before they ever even begin to talk about their own thoughts, and examine why so much content just inserts god into a conversation that had nothing to do with religion like it's the expected norm, the same way they examine the invasiveness of casual heteronormativity.

[tarpitbell]

11:23

I'm a damn leech. That's all I am

[traegorn]

while i completely agree with your assessment of realistically what a trump vs harris presidency will look like, i think the issue me and a lot of other leftists have is that there is no need to tell people (and effectively tell harris) that oh ofc we are gna vote for her despite these issues because trump is THAT bad and if you say you don't want to vote for her because her party is pro-war, pro-genocide, then you are condemning americans to a trump presidency. we know trump is worse! i don't want him to win AT ALL, but why would harris even consider even changing the language she is using (i'm looking at the absolutely stupid speech she was giving in michigan, given the large arab & muslim-american population there and given its a battleground state) if she thinks she is going to win on a not-trump basis? i know who i'm voting for on nov 5th if it comes down to it, but we need the democrats to THINK they are going to lose until the very last minute, we need them to feel like they can't just rely on being the lesser of two evils if we want any chance of a shift on palestine. because they very well might lose, for this exact reason (and i'm speaking again more to the votes of the arab & muslim-american population which is far more demographically meaningful than the votes of leftists) and if that happens, they have no one to blame but themselves.

So I'm going to tell you something important: You don't have the leverage you think you have.

Political campaigns are a machine that's been operating the same way for a long time on the Democratic side. The Republicans may have abandoned a lot of the old ways of doing things, but the Democratic party hasn't. And you've got people running these campaigns who are steeped in the "wisdom" of how you win.

And when a block of voters says they're not going to vote for their candidate, they tend to believe them. So they decide to go court the people who they think will vote for them. That's why you've seen the Harris campaign trying to court moderate Republicans who might be iffy on voting for Trump a third time.

Right now one of the reasons Netanyahu is refusing to commit to a cease fire is because he thinks Trump can win. If Trump wins, he has no reason to ever agree to one. One of the reasons he thinks Trump can win is because the polling is so close.

If you want to know why they've gone to the right recently, it's because they think they've lost the left. And since a lot of those leftists are claiming there's a line in the sand that they don't have the power to appease (because -- again -- they can't get Netanyahu to do shit right now), they're going to go for the centrist Republicans.

Also, there seems to be this weird notion that the only way to move the Democrats is during the election. That's not how you move people. You keep pressuring them during their term and it works. Like Biden is continuing to work on forgiving student debt even though he doesn't have an election ahead of him. Because they know that what he does reflects on the future of the party. Voting doesn't end this game, it's the start of it.

But none of it will matter if Trump wins.

[hypocritic-trash-baby]

If somehow you haven’t seen by now, while the Super Bowl is being aired, Israel is striking Rafah.

The people of Palestine had been told to go there, they were promised it was safe.

And while this is happening, even though earlier several tags on Palestine were trending, only one or two are now.

I haven’t written any posts personally on Palestine myself. I didn’t feel I had anything to add here aside from reblogging and boosting whatever I can but please. We can’t forget Palestine or its people especially now.

This has gone on too long and gone much much too far MANY times and now is when we need to push harder.

Many of the heads of Western countries are either beating around the bush and wasting time, or outright denying the things the Palestinian people don’t have the privilege to ignore. They don’t have the choice to look away from their pain, or the pain of friends, family, neighbors, their country. And even through all of this they’re still trying their damn hardest just to live. And we all need to listen.

So now, especially if you live in a western country like I do, now we step it up a notch. Now is the time if you haven’t already to read up on Palestinian history. Listen to what the people of Palestine are saying. Hold firm on the boycott like never before. Any and every way you can donate, do it. eSIMs, aid, anything that will reach. Save as much evidence as you can. Videos, articles. Don’t let Zionists pretend all of this never happened.

Even if you think there’s nothing you can do, I’m telling you, keep going. Even if you feel you can only give a little, if we all give a little together it becomes much more.

Hit imperialism where it hurts. In the wallet. Follow the BDS instructions, find protests in your area if you can, boost as much information about Palestine as you can find, call your reps, and do not lose hope. The people of Palestine are not dead. They are holding on even through all this and we all owe it to them to do the same.

A Free Palestine will happen in our lifetimes. But it will be hard fought. So go out there and fight hard! The governments can’t hide from their own people forever. The companies can’t bleed cash forever. The people will win. So push until we do. Do not look away. Free Palestine

[redr0sewrites]

NNN Hcs With The Hashiras

🥀A/n: the title says it all!! (i didnt include muichiro for obvious reasons)

🥀Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, breeding kink (rengoku + sanemi), squirting (mitsuri)

🥀minors dni

🥀Pairing(s): Hashiras(minus muichiro) x reader (seperate)

Giyuu:

when you first suggested the idea of NNN to giyuu, he was kinda confused

why would you participate in a competition not to have sex? did you just not want to have sex with him?

after some gentle reassurance and explanation however, he agrees surprisingly quickly

not only is giyuu ridiculously patient, he also has incredible self restraint

he would make it to the end of the month, but i definitely think he would have "almost" moments

when the month is over, hes begging you to fuck him

claims that hes waited so long, why should he have to do any work?

the minute it's december first hes waking you up, mewling and grinding on your thigh half-delirious as hes whining in your ear, begging you to take control

teasing him throughout the month will only make him more determined to last longer, if only to inflict the same suffering onto you

giyuu is very, very sensitive and you can use that to your advantage in a variety of ways

he gets really blushy when you tease him, and its only amplified during NNN considering he can't even get himself off

he also has a tough time ignoring it when he gets horny, he just feels like the type to be soooo sensitive and it's torture when he can't even jack off to relieve the painful ache in his pants

Giyuu pinned you down, his chest flush with your back as his cock rubbed against your hole. He was a panting mess, shaking above you as he pushed inside slowly. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, forcing you to look over your shoulder as he began to thrust into you steadily. Soft moans and whimpers filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping again skin. You could feel your orgasm building as a coil tightened in your stomach, and Giyuu let out a soft groan, signaling he was close as well. You clenched around him tightly, your release ripping through you as you clawed at the sheets. Above you, Giyuu tossed his head back and whispered your name like a prayer before cumming as well, filling your hole with his dripping seed. "Giyuu- ungh- wha-" you gasped, drool spilling from your lips as he sped up the pace. You had no time to catch your breath, and your hips jerked from overstimulation. "baby, i've waited a month, please?" Giyuu whispered in your ear, eyes blown wide with lust. You knew that you probably weren't going to be getting up anytime soon.

Tengen:

im sorry but he is not making the month

he'd last two weeks at best

you and his wives would probably all team up against him, and this man is unable to restrain himself when it comes to you

quickest way to get tengen to fold? lingerie

just the sight of you in some flashy, lacy undergarments has him practically dragging you to bed

teasing him while wearing lingerie? hes gone.

"fuck the stupid month," he'd grumble, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your ass for good measure

tengen would be rougher than usual, hes pissed at you for teasing him after all

"hey!" you gasped, squirming in Tengens grip as he practically dragged you inside of the house. You and the other wives had been been training outside when all of a sudden Tengen had snatched you up, throwing you over his shoulder as the other wives followed behind you. Your husband ignored your indignated cries as he brought you to the bedroom and tossed you unceremoniously onto the mattress. Maki, Suma, and Hinatsuru joined you on the mattress, and you turned to look over your shoulder at Tengen. "giving up already?" you giggle, crawling over to the other wives at the head of the bed. Tengen Tengen smirked and slid up to you, pulling your undergarments off in seconds as your head rested in Hinatsuru's lap. Maki and Suma began to grind against eachother to your left as Tengen's breath fanned over your bare skin and thighs while Hinatsuru ran her fingers through your hair. The five of you were in for a long, long night~

Shinobu:

Shinobu is definitely making it, no questions asked

she's patient enough to wait the month, however she will be pissed when you deny her

would totally try to get back at you, Shinobu would wear lingerie under her uniform and flash you when nobody was looking

she would run her hands up and down your thighs during hashira meetings, fingers ghosting so close to where you want her but not quite

she would enter a room and sit on your lap, kissing you senseless until your grinding up against her and then walk away like nothing happened

she's teasing YOU

i don't think theres any way to get her to give in, but at 12:01 on December 1st your waking up to her head between your legs

she would make you work for every orgasm, edging you until your sobbing

"you made me wait for so long, shouldn't i make you wait a little too?"

Shinobu smirked, gently swiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. She placed a finger on your tongue so you could taste the salty drops, and you let out another needy sob. "Are you getting desperate already, little butterfly?" She cooed, thrusting her fingers deeper inside of you. Another mewl escaped your lips as she fucked you dumb on her fingers, stretching you open and prodding the place inside you that made you see stars. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, and you whimpered. "Pl-please Nobu, 'm gonna cum, please lemme cum-mgh-" Shinobu smirked at you, smacking your core lightly as you squirmed beneath her. She leaned down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly. "Shh, c'mon doll, I know you can take it. You made me wait a month to ruin you, didn't you? You can handle waiting a little longer to come~" Your body quaked at her words, soft sobs and pleads filling the air as you begged her to let you cum this time. Shinobu only shook her head, smirking and removing her hand as your orgasm begins to fade.

i went off there for a sec omg

Rengoku:

i think he would make it without too much trouble

i really don't think his sex drive is super high, and hes pretty patient as it is

so yea i def think he'd make it

unleeeesssss you teased him

listen, Rengoku LOOOOVES to please you

if you bat your lashes and play your cards right, he'll fold you in half and fuck you senseless less than a week into november

it would be the roughest, sloppiest sex yall ever have bc once Rengoku is done, hes done

He'll fuck you every day of the damn month just because he wants to, and be prepared bc this man has STAMINA

normally rengoku focuses solely on your pleasure, hes def the service dom type, hoowwweeeeverr, depending on how much you teased him, hes gonna be sm rougher

i also think rengoku would last the entire month just to irritate you because, lets face it, hes much more patient than you

just imagine begging him to fuck you at the end of the month, pleading with him to pay attention to you after he's deprived you of pleasure for so long... how could he say no to you?

the sound of skin slapping against skin and muffled groans filled the room as Rengoku pressed you down into the mattress. Rengoku leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear, "fuck baby, can i- can i lift your legs up higher?" you nod, head foggy as he tossed your legs over his shoulder. Rengoku adjusted for a second, folding you over and beginning to thrust slowly. Your hips rocked against his as you clawed at the mattress, the new position allowing him to go so much deeper than before. "mhm baby, just like that. gonna make you feel so good after you waited so long, gonna fill you up so nice.."

Mitsuri:

i think Mitsuri would last ab a week before crumbling

She'd be so embarrassed about it, all blushy and shy

you haaave to tease her ab quitting so early, you'll get the most delectable whimpers from her<3

Mitsuri folds from MINIMAL teasing its almost like she wants to lose

once she gives in tho, please pamper her. teasing is okay but PRAISE HER‼️

shes a pillow princess at heart and will def want u to take care of her after u made her wait for sooo long

MITSURI IS SO SENSITIVE, AND ITS DEFINITELY AMPLIFIED AFTER SHE HELD BACK FOR SO LONG

she cries sm more easily during sex after being teased for so long, and it's impossible to NOT overstimulate her (she loves it)

tease her and praise her, overstimulate her and watch as she falls apart~

fat tears streamed down Mitsuri's pink cheeks as you pumped your fingers in and out of her slick heat, mesmerized by the sloppy sound it made. her legs trembled and her lip quivered as she sobbed from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, and you leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "d'worry baby, im gonna make you feel all better," you coo, smiling as she whimpers. your fingers are coated in her slick, and her hips grind down onto your fingers with every thrust. "need you.." she whispers, reaching out to pull you closer. "kiss..?" she whimpers, large, teary eyes staring into yours. You chuckle, unable to deny her. "Of course~ how could i forget?" you kiss her slowly and sensually, running your tongue along her bottom lip and gently grabbing her jaw as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. Mitsuri whined at the feeling, clenching ariund your fingers as her tongue collided against yours. her chest heaved, perky breasts bobbing as the coil in her stomach tightened. you could tell she was close, and moved the hand holding her face to massage one of her breasts as you deepened the kiss. your fingers curled inside her, pressing against her g spot as your thumb circled her clit. instantly, Mitsuri squealed, gushing around you and squirting onto your hand as she writhed in pleasure. "t-too much!!" she gasped, pulling away from the kiss as a thin trail of spit lingered between your mouths. "was that worth the wait baby?" Mitsuri blushes, nodding profusely.

Obanai:

i genuinely think obanai would last like

a week at most

im sorry but this man worships your every move, and theres NO way he can deny you anything

you tease him once and hes already bending you over, fucking you senseless as he bites harshly into your neck

or hes whining, dragging you on top of him and begging you to fuck him just right, ride him until hes a sweaty, needy mess

sex with Obanai after NNN would definitely be much rougher, he just cant hold himself back

he NEEDS to ravish you

you gasp as Obanai's cock sinks into you, his thick length filling you up as he spreads your legs. one hand rests on your inner thigh, the other entwining your hands together as he presses hasty kisses to your collarbone. your back arches off of the bed as he bites down hard on the sensitive skin, a dark hickey left in its wake. Obanai travels upwards, his teeth grazing your neck and shoulders as he kisses and nips at the exposed skin. his warm breathe flushes against your beck as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by your moans and whines. Obanai pants, his hand moving from your thigh to fondle at your chest. "can't believe you made me wait this long, bunny.." he murmured softly in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "fuck, i missed this pretty hole..."

Sanemi:

he likes to think could make it the whole month but "doesn't care about a stupid ass challenge"

he cant make it the whole month hes too whipped for you

i think he would either last like. 15 minutes or two weeks theres no in between

Sanemi would either fuck you out of spite immediately after november starts or genuinely try but give up pretty early on and make up some bs excuse ab how he "doesnt even care"

either way, hes not making it 💀

prepare yourself, cuz the sex is gonna be ROUGH

Sanemi totally has a breeding kink, and the thought of NNN definitely ignites a feral need to fill you up- not a drop of his cum is wasted, hes bringing you to at LEAST 4 orgasms, and hes coming at least twice as well. hes also gonna finger fuck his cum back inside you, maybe he'll use a plug too just for the satisfaction of knowing that your filled up to the brim with him...

congrats!! u have a feral boyfriend

"s' too much!" you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Sanemi fucked into you harshly from behind. his hips snapped against yours as you whimpered, face down in the sheets. Sanemi gave a swift slap to your ass and you sobbed, mewling as he fucked into your weeping hole even harder. "oh yea? shoulda thought of that before tellin' me about this stupid challenge," Sanemi hissed, thrusting deeper into your cervix as you keened. "im- m' close-" you hiccuped, warm, wet tears slid down your face as he looked into your glossy eyes. "oh yea? i thought it was t' much, doll- fuck-" he gasped as you tightened around him, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass was amplified even more as you came with a squeal. you came hard, coating Sanemi's cock and the bed below in your juices as your eyes rolled back into your head. "fuuugnck- doll your so tight- im coming too, don't waste a fucking drop of this- its what you get for makin' me wait.."

Gyomei:

i think Gyomei would make it

honestly i dont think he has a super high sex drive, and as much as he wants to please you, i think he would make it through the month with ease

hell at the end of the month hes praising YOU for lasting so long eithout him (in a genuine way, not in a condescending way ofc <33)

hes pretty chill when it comes to sex, but after NNN Gyomei might be a little rougher

he has STAMINA tho

prepare to be overstimulated bc he is MAKING SURE you are blissed outt af by the end

if your not a whiny mess in subspace then Gyomei's not having it

hes praising you for lasting so long, making you feel so good while bringing you to climax after climax for HOURS

he miiiiight fold if u bEG him but its a small possibility.

Gyomei held you in his lap as you squirmed, fucking yourself on his cock as you buried your face into his neck. "mnghh- forget how big you were.." you whine, grinding your hips sensually against his. Gyomei chuckles, brushing the hair off of your forehead and kissing you gently. "do you remember how many times you've come, little one?" your brow furrowed, your head felt foggy as you tried to remember. one of his hands squeezed your thigh reassuringly, and you whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly as you tightened around his cock. Gyomei hummed, taking in your overstimulated state as he brought you closer to release. "im so proud of you little light, you lasted the entire month," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as the coil in your stomach tightened. "let me reward you, my precious dove~"

RAHAHAHAHAHAHA ITS DONE ITS DONE ITS FINALLY DONE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK HOLY SHIT ITS DONE KTS DONE ITS DONE I LOVE LIFE HALLELUJAH AJSHSAJHAJAAAJAA ITS JANUARYYYYY LMFAO

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warnings: clown fucking lol

The amusement park on the mountain had once been the most popular attraction in your town. Everyone visited for whatever special occasion they could, spending tons of money on merchandise and tickets.

What made it so appealing to the public? Everyone’s answer was always…

Silly the Clown!

He was taller than any person you’d ever meet, always nicely dressed and wearing close make up. When he walked through the park, everyone would stop what they were doing to line up and watch his act.

Not only was he hilarious, he was also quite handsome, according to the men and women that traveled to see him.

He was shrouded in mystery. No one ever saw him without his makeup on around town or even leave the park. People would wait in hiding, trying to catch a glimpse of Silly’s real appearance.

But one day, the amusement park shut down. Rumors spread quickly through the small town, some saying there were loans gone wrong or even murder.

No one really knew why their beloved amusement park was no more, and Silly was never seen again.

That was… until you showed up.

You had been a huge fan of the amusement park as a kid, but never got to attend until your 18th birthday. Now, all these years later, you were back on your 25th, planning to celebrate by doing some urban exploring and maybe take home a souvenir.

The park wasn’t as run down as you had first expected. Although none of the rides seemed to be in order, they looked to be maintained. None of the grass was overgrown, the walls were free of graffiti, and the ground was clean, no litter or dead leaves.

It was as if the park was simply closed for the day, not abandoned completely.

As you wandered the grounds, you kept turning to see if someone was behind you. You felt eyes on you the entire time, making you think perhaps there were cameras or security guards still on the premises to prevent vandalism and theft.

What you didn’t know was that you were being followed and carefully monitored. Every step you took was being tracked, every little thing you did was observed by the pair of eyes watching you,

Though… for a moment the observer’s gaze moved over your body, lingering on… certain parts. It had been so long since someone had come to visit, and even longer since it had even thought about its… urges.

And you were such a pretty thing.

It was getting dark, meaning you should get back to your car soon… but as the sun went down, you nearly fell over in fright when the amusement park sparked to life.

Lights lit up, rides began to move, and you could smell popcorn and hotdogs being cooked near the food stalls.

“I’ve gotta be hallucinating…”

“You’re not.”

You froze in your tracks, the hair on the back of your end standing up straight. That voice…

“S-Silly?”

He appeared in front of you, a red painted smile spreading across his face. “Silly the clown, that’s me! You’re back!”

It took you nearly an entire minute to process that the man in front of you was really Silly the clown, someone that hadn’t been seen in years!

“W… what do you mean?”

His fingertips traced down your side, stopping at your hip. “I know the face of everyone who’s entered this park. And now you’re back…”

His thumb rubbed against your hip, playing with the fabric of your bottoms. “Why don’t you enjoy the park for a bit? I turned everything on just for you…”

And you did, hesitantly going up to the first ride.

He watched you go, his pants tightening. God, how long had it been since he’d felt the warmth of a woman?

Silly was cursed. He couldn’t leave the park, his very soul was tied to it. It stayed the same as it did the day it was abandoned, and he waited for someone to come back.

Why had people stopped coming? Not even the newspaper was allowed to print what happened.

A kid went missing near the park, and Silly had seen what happened. Someone impersonated him, luring the child away. He couldn’t do a single thing, not able to break character and leave to save the child.

It made Silly depressed, and he stopped allowing people to visit. Silly and the park were one being, if he was depressed, it would deteriorate.

But when he saw your car pull up, the rusted gates and old buildings became brand new, almost as if the park was perking up to impress you.

After going on several rides without waiting in lines and feasting on corn dogs, funnel cake, and lemonade, you let out a happy sigh.

“Having fun?”

You jumped slightly, relaxing when Silly came into view.

“Yeah… it’s been a long time since I’ve been to an amusement park. It’s been nice.”

He watched you, his eyes focusing on your soft tummy and fat tits. Never before had he taken such interest in a female.

He didn’t know much about what he was or how he came into existence, much less the nature of his urges, but he did know that he had needs…

And you did too.

Silly was attractive in a strange way. It was hard to describe his features, but something about him made you… horny. Maybe it was how tall he was, maybe it was the way he talked…

Before you knew it, you were being led away by the hand. You didn’t complain or try to escape his grip, in fact you were both curious and aroused. Where was he leading you?

Was it bad that being all alone with that clown in an abandoned park, having no idea where he was taking you made you horny?

Silly was struggling to keep himself together.

You were pulled into a tent, something slippery and slimy slipping between your legs as you were bent over. All you had to hold on to was a tent pole as silly grabbed your fat hips.

“God…” he murmured, his tentacle like cock slithering past your panties and rubbing against your glistening clit. “Need this…”

Without much warning he pushed in, groaning at how tight you were. It felt so strange, feeling him wriggle and writhe inside of your cunt.

The second he felt you clench around him he groaned, his body leaning into yours as he nibbled at your ear.

“So wet… pretty little thing, don’t you wanna just stay here forever? I’ll let you have the best day forever if I get to fuck into this pussy at the end of every night…”

His clown makeup dripped onto your shoulder, making you look back. Your vision was already a bit blurry from the pleasured tears falling from your eyes, but you swore you saw a strange creature behind you…

He forced you to look away, cooing softly. “Shh, don’t look, princess… I don’t want my pretty little thing going insane.”

His cum spurted inside of you, and you felt uncomfortable stretch when his cock began to go crazy, wiggling and squirming as if trying to burrow inside of you as deep as it could.

A soft growl left his throat as he settled down from his high, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip.

“Good girl… let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

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[be-good-to-bugs]

i dont WANNA go to work tomorrow

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[rieaj]

“i love you, but that dick is a plus.” ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

———

who in enha has the biggest dick? (hyung line only)

warnings: enha hyung line x reader (seperate !!), smut, unprotected sex, blowjobs, missionary, p in v, talks about dick sizes, dacryphilia, mdni !!

others: enjoy this for now, cause ive been losing motiv for a couple if days cs its been hectic asf 😭 ill post more content soon. but for now this is enough to feed y’all’s horny selves 🫶

———

lee heeseung. this man 😖. he’s big alright. 6’0ft tall he’s got big hands, feet, etc. meaning to say he’s got a big dick too. 8 inches when soft, 9 1/2 when hard. i feel like he wouldn’t be as thick as jay or jake. but this man is for sure long. i also bet he and jay would have big balls. he’d prolbably have shaved hairs that were slightly the same as sunghoon’s not too hairy or too shaved down. heeseung is the type to love blowjobs. sucking down on his long cock, just to have him push your head just to hear your whimper and gags. he’d like to fuck you in missionary just to watch his cock slowly go in and out of you whilst watching your teary eyed face.

park jay. he’s thick for sure. 7 inch when soft, 8 1/2 when hard. thick girth and a mushroom tip that would be an angry red type of color. the base would be a little tanner than his skin, and for his hair, i bet he shaves it every 2 weeks max. its neat and not so hairy. gotta be clean to satisfy his girl (>.<) jay would also be the type to be the softest and most loving in bed. he loves reassuring you and talking you through it. this man would also have the best aftercare. jay could also go rough and hard, only if he would be in a bad mood or jealous. (we’ll discuss this soon !) overall, jay just has big dick.

sim jake. thickest. 7 1/2 inches when soft, 8 when hard. jake isn’t exactly the longest. but he beats them in girth. he’s a thick boy. even just the tip inside your already stretched out so wide. his base color would be a little darker than his skin tone. he has a big tip that whenever he was hard it would be such an angry pink and constantly leak pre-cum. jake would not have any hairs at all. poor baby always feels so guilty whenever he sees you in tears as soon as an inch of his dick stretches you out. always shushing you and reassuring that the pain would be gone.

park sunghoon. i feel like he would be the biggest. a positive, 8 1/2 inch when soft. a solid 9 when hard. sunghoon would most like be the one to know his dick the best, and also use it correctly. his dick is girthy with a usual peachy color on his tip. the base color would be a the same color as his usual skin, and he would most likely have a neat shave, something like the hair still being there but at the same time it’s not too bushy. sunghoon would also have some best dick game. there is never a time you won’t be pleasured after being with him. he would also most likely HATE wearing condoms. unless that is, you want him to. anything for his girl <3 but for me i think he wouldn’t really like it cs he wants you to feel every inch and vein of him pulse inside you :0

———

yall ive been busy this is all i could come up w rn. its not my best work, but ive just been too lazy. i’ll do better soon 😞

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ request(s): sick fics (1/2) and mama's body image

He pulls you under the covers in the marigold shadow of your bedroom as soon as Orion goes down.

You’re not as bold as you have been over the phone, reverting back to his shy, sweet kitten, bashful in his arms as he sucks marks into your neck, hands drifting down your spine and over your hips to fill his palms with plush curve of your ass.

“Missed you, mama.” You smile softly, hiding your face in his chest.

“Missed you too.” He tries to map you with his fingers, stroking them over your thighs, your shoulders, pulling your fingers to his mouth and dotting his lips across each knuckle. Maybe, if he does it enough, he'll never forget what you feel like.

You're wearing another one of your sleep shirts, oversized, stretched, frayed, a thin veil shielding you from him, and when he slips underneath the hem tracing up towards your navel, you stiffen in his arms, muscles tense like a deer in headlights. "What is it?" You don't answer, gaze holding steadfast and forward, directly at his chest. Fear bristles, worming its way into his gut instincts. He sits up. "What's wrong? Are you dizzy?"

"N-no, I'm fine. I feel... fine." Your body tells a different story, curled forward, still tense, like you're trying to protect your ribs.

"What's going on?" You shake your head, wet track of a tear shining in your cheek in the dark. His anxiety, his fear, won't let him tread carefully any longer, steel backed demand slipping free like he's speaking to one of the sergeants. "Talk to me."

"I don't look the same!" You blurt, and then try to roll out of the bed, away from him. "I don't feel the same, either. I'm kind of... squishy, stretched out because your kid is a giant. And I gave birth to him, you know... he wasn't easy." His grip loosens momentarily, and you seize the opportunity, feet landing on the carpet and trying to stand.

He snatches you around the waist so fast and yanks, tugs you back to the bed and shifts your weight so you're pinned underneath him. "Simon!"

"Look at me." He rubs his nose against yours, keeping your wrists pinned above your head, his thighs bracketing yours. "You did give birth to our baby, honey. You, and this body, grew him, took care of him, kept him safe. I love this body, mama. I loved your body the first night I met you, and-"

"Exactly." You snap, nose tipped up. "You loved the way I used to look and I definitely don't-" His brows lower, and he cuts you off with his mouth, stealing a long kiss before pulling away.

"Don't interrupt me. I did love your body then, but I love how you look now, even more," to drive his point home, he presses the length of his hard cock against where it's nestled between your legs, and your eyes go wide, "this body had my baby, mama," He dips low, closing his mouth over your t shirt and nipple, teasing with his teeth before releasing, "this body feeds my baby," he releases your hands, trailing his down your ribs and over your belly, where he holds you still, "this body is proof you belong to me, that you're mine, and I'd worship every inch of it, if you'd let me. It's okay if you don't love yourself or how you look right now, because I'll do it for you until that changes." Your eyes are half lidded, smart mouth parted on words stolen.

"I-" Orions cries, echoing from his room, and Simon kisses your shoulder.

"I'll get him."

"What if it's RSV?" He keeps his voice low, hand still covering the back of Orion's head, pacing a small pattern across the kitchen. He's been holding him all morning, too unnerved to be separated from him or put him down for even a second, and now he's sleeping on Simon's chest, tiny fingers and fist curled up in the neck of his shirt.

"I don't think it's RSV. We haven't really gone out much, and he doesn't have a high fever."

"But his snot is green." There's a monster curled up in the farthest reaches of Simon's heart. A cold, black thing that's pulling the strings in his head and making his blood pressure skyrocket. His baby is sick. What if it's serious? What if he doesn't get help in time?

You tuck your fingers inside the corner of his arm, and lay your head on his bicep. "Green snot is also a symptom of a common cold, which babies get a lot." You rub Ry's back and press the back of your hand to his cheek. "His fever isn't very high, and he doesn't have much of a cough. I think we're okay for now."

"Maybe we should take him in, or call the pediatrician again and-"

"Simon, hey." Your hand drifts to his back now, rubbing up and down his spine, like he needs soothing. Well, that's not right. He should be comforting you. You and the baby, he should be taking care of you, making sure you're both- "Dr. Marsh said as long as his fever doesn't spike, he's not sleeping too much, and he doesn't start wheezing, then we're okay to keep him here at home. He's okay, okay? Babies get sick. But we're here with him, and we're going to make sure he's okay. Right?" He closes his eyes, rolling your words around in his mind, your reasoning gaining ground and hooking into him, holding him steady. You're levelheaded right now, steadfast, and he loves you for it, allows himself to lean on it, just a little bit.

"Right."

"Why don't you let me take him? You've been holding him for six hours. Go... take a shower, or something. Or eat. I want you to clear your head, relax a little bit." He lifts Orion into your arms, but shakes his head at your suggestions.

"I don't need-"

"Please. For me?" Refusals die on his lips just like that, and he nods.

The shower does Simon a world of good. His head does feel clear, and he's more focused, more rational, as he dries off and pulls a pair of sweats out of his bag.

Everything is fine. Babies get sick. You're right. His fever isn't even that high.

The lights are dim in your room, where you're on your side, half propped up, Orion on his back in front of you. You smile at Simon as he crosses the distance, leaning over to press a kiss to your head. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, thank you. Sorry I uh, lost it a bit."

"You were worried." You pat the opposite side, next to the baby, and he lays down, big hand on Ry's stomach. "It's the first you've seen him get sick, of course you're going to lose it a little bit." Your choice of words make him wonder, and he cocks his head.

"Has he been sick before?"

"He had a cold around four, five weeks. I was a mess." Your lips split into a shaky smile. "He was miserable, wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. Couldn't breathe through his nose. I took him in right away, cried the entire time, but he didn't even have a fever. Just a cold." You shrug. "They told me if he does develop a fever, then it could be bad, and to bring him back in immediately. I spent the next two days watching him every single second, even when he was asleep in his crib, making sure he was still breathing. Checking his temperature every hour." You sigh. "Here, let's do this." You encourage him to roll onto his back, pulling the sheet up over his chest to his shoulders. "You run too hot." You tease, before carefully scooping Orion up and placing him on Simon's chest, still asleep. "This way, you can keep an eye on his breathing and his temperature and I," the words are cut off by a yawn, "can get some sleep right here. Okay?" He stares at you for a long minute, love and obsession and appreciation twisting him up until he's reaching over and cupping your cheek.

"Thank you mama."

[aphel1on]

the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.

the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)

both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!

and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.

that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".

and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.

this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.

a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.

it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.

there's several things to note here:

thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder

eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble

they're not actually eating anything.

those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.

it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.

but even that last happened a long, long time ago.

this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.

paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.

he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.

isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.

thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.

when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.

i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.

therefore casually forgetting the creepy eodio doll isn't real.

thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.

yet still...

he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.

this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.

all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.