#like look at him his body is literally falling apart at the seams

[markerofthemidnight]

Tinky’s True Form

And here’s the boi! Tried to make it as close to canon (or at least to what we saw in the Killer Track) as possible. disgusting stinky little boi

[dark-and-kawaii]

begging and pleading for more mean raphael 😭🙏🏻 the way you write is so ajahdhejdjsj i literally check your blog DAILY

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ The Devils Entertainment ˖⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

Summary: Raphael uses you like the eager pup you are, using you as a precious little cum dump. That’s all you’re good for anyway, to entertain him until he grows bored.

♡ Content: NSFW - Degrading - Used - Creampie - Mean Raphael

♡ Notes: Whaa!!! Thank you darling (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )!!!! I can’t believe you check my blog daily, like wow!!! I really hope this satisfies your mean Raphael needs!!!

Raphael fucks you raw until you’re begging, crying for him to cum inside you. Until your mind has completely blanked out. The man- the devil, always makes your body his own, his hands bruising your hips, your throat, your wrists as he manhandles you into the perfect position to pound your abused cunt, “You bend so easily, little pup. It’s almost dull.” He laughs low, his grip on your hip tightens as you sob his name, your arms barely keeping your chest off the ground.

Your body is sore and used, your mind exhausted, unable to do much more than feel the pleasure of his thick cock, his cum leaking from your swollen, aching cunt… “I barely exert any effort, and there you go, crumbling at the seams. It's like you were made to be broken. Pitty. I like when they can at least put up a decent fight.”

You whine when the devil pulls out, leaving your core empty so he can watch his seed spill from you. His voice is cruel as he chuckles, watching you intently, “So eager to fall apart. I wonder-“ he places his hand on his chin, “do you enjoy it? The descent, the collapse? It seems to come so naturally to you.”

You're not sure how to respond. You don't have the strength or mind to argue, not that he'd ever listen to anything you say anyway. Not that you mind being treated in such a manner…

He leans in close, his nose pressed to the shell of your ear, his breath hot, sending chills through your tired body, “Each time I think you've hit the bottom, you find a new way to disappoint me. It's an art form, really, your knack for disappointing me."

You don't have the strength to move. He grabs your chin and forces your head to the side, making you look at him, his lips against your skin, his words a dark, twisted promise, “You’re not worth my time I’m afraid, only good for one thing and that’s a hole for me to fill. But don’t worry, if you wish to get off little mouse, Haarlep will happily keep you company.”

You wanted to tell him no, that you’d do better, that you’d get him the crown and all would be well, that you worshiped him like some kind of god- like an archdevil, but the words wouldn’t come. And even if they did, would it matter? You know this is what your devil likes, tormenting you. Using you, breaking you... Watching as Haarlep his precious incubus fucks the almost ever living life out of you. Stroking his cock as you call out to him while impaled on Haarlep’s grossly thick cock.

This was your life now, a plaything for the devil and all you could do was nod with a lazy fucked out smile. Your body limp as Raphael lifts you up, tossing you on his bed near Haarlep’s lap, “do try to make this an entertaining performance, Haarlep.”

The incubus nods, lifting you into their lap, “Oh, little pet~” Haarlep moans, their hands roaming over your tired body.

Raphael chuckles, sitting on a plush chair across from the bed, a bottle of wine in hand as he watches the show.

[heybank]

umm so i wrote a little fic/blurb idk i don't think it's good but it's something that's been stuck in my head for a while with my own little oc named grace but her name is only mentioned a few times so it could totally be ignored and seen as reader.

anyway this is my first ever fic so please be kind to me and if you have suggestions or other fic ideas i'd love to hear them.

not proof read and lowercase intended.

and if you think it's awful please lie to me i'm fragile 😔

deny

you are a lover girl. a hopeless romantic, someone who dreams of finding "the one" and living happily ever after. kie often says you tend to fall in love a little with everyone you meet. you can't help it though, you have so much love in you, it feels like you'll burst at the seams if you don't share it with others.

you think you're in love with your best friend jj maybank. no one understands you the way the wild blond haired boy does. no one can communicate with you with just a single look the way jj does. no one makes your heart beat out of your chest and your tummy flutter the way his dimpled smile does, eyes crinkling at the corners, a slight sunburn on his nose because lord know that boy doesn't use the sunscreen you bought him.

so yeah you're in love with jj maybank but then yesterday a different boy kissed you. pope heyward, your other best friend, genius extraordinaire whom you thought was maybe in love with kie but no- he kissed you and you felt a tingle in your ever beating heart. heat filled your cheeks and your ears became fuzzy. that was a new feeling when it came to pope. it made you excited to explore because as much as you love jj, you don't think the boy would ever return your undying affection because your friendship meant too much.

----

you stood in the threshold of popes bedroom, gasp stuck in your throat, eyes wide and mouth open at the sight before you. you’re not sure how to process what you’re seeing.

before you on the bed that pope kissed you on not even 24 hours ago, is jj maybank, your closest friend, kissing the heyward boy.

so many emotions flow through you at the sight before you.

shock because not once has jj; or pope for that matter mentioned or even hinted that they liked men- or each other. then again, jj has always liked beautiful people and pope is certainly that.

sadness because you and pope had literally just kissed. maybe you were naive to think a simple kiss meant something more to the boy, but it was pope, you don't think there's a mean bone in his body. then again you’ve always been too much of a romantic, too blinded to really see what’s in front of you. blinded by your want and need to be loved that perhaps you create situations in your mind that you interpret as reality? maybe you need to contact your therapist again. you're sounding even more delusional than before.

lastly, you feel jealousy. the angry green monster rumbling around in your tummy, making its way up your throat. you’re not sure what exactly is making you jealous because the image of the two boys kissing is surely confusing. are you jealous because pope is kissing another person who isn’t you? a part of you is jealous because he’s kissing jj. or maybe it’s that jj is kissing pope or that maybe they’re kissing eachother and they're not kissing you? you're not sure at this point. dear diary jealousy is a disease babes, and you are infected.

you must have made a noise because next thing you know, the two boys are pulling apart, a string of spit still connecting them and for a second your love rattled brain is jealous of it. the spit that is, because deep down you’ve always known that you wanted them both… to be the one to connect them. you feel slightly crazy being jealous of spit.

jjs face goes beat red and then flushes pale, like a ghost. he looks terrified and like he might vomit all over the floor in a second.

“grace!” popes panicked voice reaches your ears but they’re still kind of ringing from the shock of seeing your supposedly straight best friends kiss.

in your heartbroken haze you wonder if you're being a bad ally right now. you love the gays you swear! you just never pictured pope and jj as being a part of the gays ™.

you clear your throat, “jb and kie are waiting for us downstairs. we were going out on the boat today, remember?”

you try and say that as gently as possible because jj still looks like he’s going to pass out and pope isn’t much better.

popes hands are shaking as he reaches for you and a part of you wants to pull away but you’re not mean. you’ve never been mean so even if your feelings are hurt you’ll always put your best friends feelings above your own. and it looks like pope needs to touch you. maybe to hold your hand and reassure him you’re really standing there, witnessing something that you probably shouldn’t have.

so many emotions flicker through popes eyes. you can’t really see his blush but you’re sure if you touch his face it would be hotter than the sun.

pope grabs your hands in his shaking ones. you can feel how clammy they are and you hazard a look back to jj who has yet to even move. you’re a little concerned he’s gone into shock.

you let out a soft sigh and smile at the boys, a smile that is mostly genuine.

you squeeze popes hand and make eye contact with the panicked blonde boy on the bed.

“it’s ok jj. i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” you speak kindly, as if you’re talking to a scared feral cat.

you only see jj swallow hard. “for what it’s worth, i understand the appeal... wanting to kiss pope and all.” you tease hoping to cut the obvious tension in the room. you feel like you're the one choking now.

jj and pope both let out huffs like they’re afraid to laugh but also relieved you’re not upset.

“you’re not mad?” jj croaks like he still has a frog lodged in his throat. he looks at you with soft wonder, like you’re the best thing in his life. his stare makes your tummy flutter.

“of course not. you guys are my best friends. i only ever want you to be happy!” you reply honestly. jj deserves happiness after the shit life he’s been dealt. he deserves good things and if you have to set aside your feelings in order for him to have good things then by golly you’ll do that.

“grace, about yesterday-“ pope starts off,

“don’t worry buddy, already forgotten.” you cut him off. hopefully saving him the strife of having to apologize to you about the kiss and saving you the embarrassment of him telling you he regrets your kiss. you don't think you could survive hearing that out loud.

you march over to jj still holding popes hand, effectively dragging the boy with you. you throw your arms tightly around jjs neck and after a heartbeat, jj returns your hug. you move your head to look at pope and nod at him, encouraging him to join the hug.

“now c’mon. you know how pissy jb gets when he’s made to wait” you giggle.

you lead the boys out of popes room and home and into the twinkie without giving them an option of saying no.

“finally! i thought y’all died or something. what took so long” john b huffs in exasperation.

“my fault jb!” you quickly chirp so the boys don’t have to panic and think of a lie “pope showed me the new book he got and it’s my favourite and i starting gushing and you know me i can’t shut up and… well i forgot why i went up to get them in the first place” you giggle with a sheepish smile.

“you’re so lucky you’re cute, grace” kie laughs teasingly.

you see pope and jj making eye contact. you have a feeling you might need to play therapist for them soon. pope doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings without beating around the bush and well, jjs favourite thing to do is deny deny deny.

actually, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do too! deny you have feelings for pope. deny you have feelings for jj. deny you ever saw them kiss and deny that them kissing only upset you because you weren’t a part of it. deny that a part of you enjoyed it. deny that your feelings matter in this situation and deny that if given the chance, you’d love to be in between a beautiful jj maybank and pope heyward sandwich.

yep, deny deny deny. this is gonna be a long freaking summer.

[another-lost-mc]

do u think belphie would have a spit kink?? having sm thoughts of belphie craving to be close to mc in every way possible (i need help)

a/n: he's a little brat and I think there's a lot of things under the degradation umbrella he'd be into.

➤ belphie + degradation

0.5k words | nsfw | kink discussion (spitting, humiliation)

So, Belphie's a little shit (affectionately). He's got this really smooth manipulative streak that kind of feels dirty. You're tainted every time his pouty mouth and wide, watery eyes plead with you to give something new a try. If you like it, he likes to boast how great his ideas are and next time you shouldn't whine so much.

Of course, if you don't like something you try together, he twists things around and makes it sounds like it was your idea the whole time and it's not his fault. He's also a bit sulky after because he's pretty sure you're not going to try it again, at least not anytime soon. He spends a lot of time thinking about what went wrong and how he can change things for next time so that you might be willing to give it another shot.

Belphie likes degradation. He can be mean and selfish—he drips insults into your ear and marks your body with his filth. He's sloppy with aftercare because he wants to keep you that way. He marks you in ways he's not sure anyone else ever has (or ever will if he has a say in it). He wants you to smell like him and leave his taste in your mouth and walk around with sticky skin as a reminder of everything you do together. He wouldn't waste his energy or time doing this sort of thing with a random fuck, either. He wants you so desperately because he loves you.

So, a spit kink? It falls under that whole degradation umbrella of things he loves to do with you. With spitting specifically, it works both ways. On the rare occasion he actually gets on top, he holds your chin and forces your lips apart so he can spit in your mouth. Your eyes are watery with desire and shame but you swallow obediently anyway. Maybe you're riding him and you're nearly begging him to stop because you're overstimulated and it feels like you're about to rip apart at the seams. You're cock-drunk and you can't think straight, and you can barely speak other than little hiccupped sounds when you try to say his name. Your mouth hangs open and drool trickles slowly down your face and rolls down your chin. He swipes it away with his finger and sucks it into his mouth. "Look at you, you're so dumb on my cock you're slobbering all over yourself like a little bitch in heat. Does it feel good? It's okay, I know it does. One more for me, yeah? Then we can have a little nap."

There might be occasions when you drool on his pillow while he's railing into you from behind. His hand grips the back of your neck and pushes you down into the damp cotton, and the annoyance in his voice is genuine. "You're makin' a fucking mess all over my favourite pillow." He literally rubs your face in it, and you might whimper from embarrassment or stutter out apologies, but your body betrays you and clenches around his cock when he calls you a dirty little whore.

[luminouslywriting]

Hi!!!! I was wondering if you could write anything on what it would be like to be Rosie's first? I know you don't do full smut which it TOTALLY FINE but I wanted to ask if you have any thoughts :)))

Nonny, I have SO many thoughts about Rosie haha! As always, my requests are open and I just adore hearing from you all :)

Cut for length, spice and mature content under the cut!

-Similarly to Gale, I think a lot of this depends on whether or not it's pre-war or post-war

-If it's pre-war, there's an added level of tension and worry that he's not going to come back from things and so there's a frantic energy and care for one another

-But if it's during the war or post-war, I think this man's confidence levels?? HAVE SKYROCKETED?? Like, he was always confident and comfortable with expressing what he wants and figuring things out with you, but there's something about having looked death in the face in the skies and knowing that mortality is a very fragile thing

-I think that this man puts a lot of care and energy into sex regardless though—and it's definitely something that he puts a lot of thought into beforehand. He's not about to sleep around randomly or in a rush. This is something pre-meditated and something that he's clearly wanted for a while.

-Genuinely enjoys the foreplay portion of sex almost as much as sex itself. There's something really gratifying about knowing that you two can make each other feel those euphoric emotions and feelings together.

-Is really gentle and sweet about things, but also very commanding and firm in how he expresses what he wants to try out or if something isn't working

-Tickling and murmuring sweet nothings to you absolutely helps the mood be more relaxed

-Is unabashedly vocal—but also slightly embarrassed about the sounds coming out of his throat and mouth???? He was unaware he could even MAKE those sounds haha

-I think he's a switch—and he's down to try a lot of different positions until you two figure out what works best for you

-CONSENT KING

-That being said, he absolutely has an authority kink (more on that in a later post, as requested by @precious-little-scoundrel 😘)

-He's big on praise and body worship—but also really enjoys hearing it from you as well. If you want this man falling APART at the seams, tell him how good he's doing and hype him up.

-When he gets a little more comfortable and familiar with you during sex, I think he gets really into edging and teasing (but in a light-hearted sort of way)

-Eye contact is really big for him so that he can see you and so that you/he can make sure that everything is going okay for both of you

-Loves aftercare and pillow-talk almost as much as he loves sex

-It's never JUST sex, it's literally love making....and this is emphasized by the way that he always tells you that he loves you

-Also....he LOVES lingerie and seeing you in it haha....especially if there is any strip teasing

-The takeaway here is that this man is honestly the perfect first—and he's the most loving and respectful man in any circumstance.

[moraxsthrone]

・ﾟ✧ title → patient

・ﾟ✧ pairing → k. alberich x f!reader

・ﾟ✧ wc → 2.1k

・ﾟ✧ warnings/notes → nsfw. mdni. angst to fluff to smut. blood. life-threatening injury. reader gives kaeya stitches. alcohol (mention). needy kaeya. handjob. oral (m. rcv'ing). reader and kaeya are married. reader has a healing vision (unspecified element). appearances by jean, diluc. i can't begin to describe how much i love writing banter, esp w mr. alberich. kaeya and i would get on like a house on fire, i tell you *shakes fist*.

you were awakened in the middle of the night by jean and diluc bursting through your door with kaeya’s limp body between them, his arms draped over each of their shoulders.

“i thought i said to leave him at the tavern if he gets too drunk to walk home?” you fussed, your voice still heavy with sleep as you lit the nearest oil lamp. when the flame illuminated the room in a warm glow, all the color drained from your face. jean managed to steady kaeya’s lithe form as diluc cleared your dining table with one sweep of his arm. you watched in horror, eyes brimming with hot tears as the two carefully laid your husband down on the wooden surface, unconscious, his blood pooling around him. "oh gods! what happened?"

"we were ambushed by no less than a dozen fatui agents on our way to cecilia garden tonight," diluc started. "the three of us hardly stood a chance, but just as jean made the call to retreat, kaeya..." the male's voice faltered, but he pressed on. "he was nearly run through by a pyro agent's blade."

"diluc went back in swinging, giving me just enough of an opening to drag kaeya out, and..." jean went on, but her voice became more and more distant, muffled by the thick fog of panic shrouding your mind when faced with your husband’s immediate mortality.

you were frozen in fear - cold anchors steeling your feet to the floor at the prospect of losing the most important person in your life. he was dying in front of your very eyes. this must be a nightmare, you thought, but diluc’s shouting pierced your awareness, bringing the reality of the situation sharply into focus.

“Y/N!” diluc’s typical calm, collected demeanor was falling apart at the seams, making the dire urgency in his voice all the more unnerving. all the bad blood between him and his sworn brother was water under the bridge at the moment. 

jean’s heart pounded in her throat. the metallic scent of her comrade’s blood made her queasy, but she fought to keep it together. you were in shock, and diluc was starting to lose his composure. if she didn’t keep her wits about her, her cavalry captain didn’t stand a chance. she cared too deeply about all three of you to let kaeya die.

“come on, y/n, you can heal him! you can do this, but you must focus.” her voice was shaky, but determined.

you drew a turbulent breath, wiping your tears away as jean continued to encourage you. 

“that’s it, y/n. deep breaths.” she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone that helped calm and center you. 

her voice was having the same effect on diluc, who used his pocket knife to cut kaeya’s shirt open, exposing his wound so you could get to work. 

“my hands…they’re trembling. how can i- ?” you worried.

“mind over matter.” jean took your hands in hers. “look at me, y/n. kaeya needs you right now; his life is literally in your hands. i know it’s not easy, but you have to be rational right now. you can fall apart after you’ve saved your husband’s life.” she squeezed your shoulder. “you’ve got this, okay?”

you nodded, pulling your hands away and shaking them out. you closed your eyes and took a few more deep breaths, galvanizing your nerves and resolve with fierce love. he needs you. and you need him. with your game face on, you opened your eyes again. you tied your hair back and washed your hands as you put diluc in charge of bringing more lamps into the room and lighting them. he gave a stern nod and set about his task as you told jean where you kept your first aid kit. 

diluc returned with a couple more lamps, strategically placing them so as to provide you with as much light as possible without running the risk of getting knocked over. he watched as you leaned in to get a better look at kaeya’s wound. you checked his vitals and his color. he’d lost so much blood that his lips and nailbeds were turning a dangerous shade of blue. your husband was unrecognizably pale and his pulse was weak. 

“what else can i do, y/n?” the redhead asked, eager and restless to help in any way he could. 

“help me get his shirt off,” you ordered. 

he lifted kaeya’s top half, and as you worked his sleeve off of one shoulder, jean returned with your kit and jumped in to help with the other side. with kaeya's upper body free from his garments, diluc carefully lowered him back down as jean busied herself with fetching water and clean rags and towels. 

you were in rare form as you went through the motions. you were amazed, if not a little disconcerted, at the fact that you’d been able to set your feelings aside, at least temporarily, with less effort than you’d ever imagined you thought possible when it came to your lover. it was through sheer force of your own will that he’d gone from kaeya, my husband to kaeya, my patient.

jean had been right - mind over matter.

fortunately, the blade that had cut him narrowly missed his vital organs so you didn’t have to suture anything internally. you were also grateful for the fact that kaeya was unconscious; otherwise he’d be in a lot of pain while you worked the needle in and out of his skin, which would make the act of stitching him up even more difficult for both of you. you’d sewn him up countless times before, but you’d never tended a wound this deep or life-threatening, let alone on your husband’s body.

also, had he been conscious, you would’ve had to listen to him complain about his denied request for alcohol. normally, you’d oblige him after a brief debate...

‘please, darling?’ 

‘no, kaeya, it’ll make you bleed more.’ 

‘but it’ll make it hurt less. are you quite prepared to live with the guilt of inflicting such pain onto your injured husband?’

‘i thought you were into that sort of thing…’ you’d tease with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

‘i am, but alcohol usually helps with that, too,’ he’d muse with a wink. 

...although the tears threatened to fill your vision again, the memories made you smile to yourself as you finished the final stitch. 

diluc helped jean take the wet rags and pot of blood-tinged water away to be washed as you gingerly placed your ear against kaeya’s chest to check his breathing and heart rate. his pulse was stronger than before, for which you thanked the archons. you moved to brush his cerulean hair away from his face, smiling at his peaceful, handsome features as you noted that his color was returning. just then, his eyelid fluttered. he was too weak to open his eyes yet, but you heard the raspy groan in his throat. 

you leaned down to kiss his damp forehead and whispered, “i’m here, baby. you’re going to be okay, so please rest.” you took his sinewy, blood-stained hand in yours, holding it close to his heart. “i love you so much, kaeya.” he responded with a squeeze of his fingers, his grip weak but you knew he was telling you he loves you as well.

a week has passed since diluc and jean dragged your husband's near-lifeless body home. you’re beyond thankful for the healing properties that your vision provides; without it, you’re fairly certain you would’ve become a widow that night. 

kaeya has been waking up more often and staying awake longer each time. he hates being bedridden, but you insist that he wait just a couple more days while you monitor him and his wound for any signs of infection.

more time passes and kaeya has gotten a lot of his strength back, but you still limit his activity to moving from room-to-room and taking short walks around your shared cottage when the weather permits. he enjoyed being waited on hand and foot at first, but now he’s getting restless. he complains and bemoans his boredom, scoffing when you playfully tease him about being a terrible patient.

you’re giving him a sponge bath one afternoon, happily engaged in witty banter and giggling at his shameless flirting.

“you’re a particularly stunning nurse, miss…”

“thank you,” you laugh, playing along as you finish washing his back. gathering his long, blue hair for him so he won’t lie on it as he eases himself back down, you say, “and it’s mrs. alberich.”

“oh, so you’re married. tell me, does your husband treat you well and take good care of you?”

“indeed he does. very much so. i’m the happiest i’ve ever been in my life because of him.” you glance at him with a smile. "he's my knight in dazzling armor."

the pride in your eyes makes his heart swell. “shame. I was going to ask you out on a date…perhaps take you to good hunter for a romantic, candlelit dinner when i get better.”

“what’s stopping you?”

“why, your dear husband, of course.”

“something tells me he wouldn’t mind,” you smile at him with a wink.

"mrs. alberich..." kaeya murmurs. when your eyes meet his, he brings his hand to your face, his palm nuzzling your cheek as his long, cool fingers thread themselves in your hair. “kiss me, my love.”

and you do, relishing the moment, comforted by the taste of his tongue as it pushes against yours, knowing how close this moment came to never existing and not taking a single one of his quickened heartbeats for granted.

he’s needy. sex is a love language for kaeya and it’s been weeks since he’s been between your legs. you protest and push off the bed, afraid of putting weight on his torso when he tries to pull you on top of him. 

“kaeya, your stitches!” you chastise. 

he bites his bottom lip and grinds his hips against you. “mmm but baby, it’s been so long,” he complains. 

“it hasn’t been that long. Maybe a little over a week-” 

“two weeks and three days…” he informs you. “...might as well be an eternity for us.” 

you think for a moment. it’s true you and kaeya hadn’t gone more than two weeks without making love since you started dating a few years ago. the fact that you still had a very…sexful…marriage after all this time was something you both prided yourselves on. you look down to find kaeya’s heterochromatic eyes pleading with you as he needily ruts his hardening bulge against you. 

“please, baby…” 

you can count on one hand the number of times your husband has pleaded for your touch, or anything for that matter. begging is something that is typically beneath him. grasping the level of desperation he must be feeling, you cave and let your hand travel the length of his lean thigh. 

“i suppose a handjob wouldn’t hurt…” you purr. 

“oh fuck~” kaeya’s head falls back to the pillow as a sigh of relief falls from his lips. “my dear wife, you’re the best nurse a guy could ever hope for…” he breathes. 

you chuckle softly as your hand slides under the sheet to touch his naked skin. “you’re lucky i married you,” you tease. 

with a big, dumb smile on his face he nods. “indeed i am.”

a low groan rumbles in his chest when you squeeze his sensitive flesh, slowly massaging your way up until you can feel his rock hard shaft bounce against your hand.

minutes later, you’re stroking him with one hand while gently tugging on his tightening balls with the other. he’s practically whimpering, trying to lift his hips off the bed to fuck your hand, but you tut at him. 

“nah-ah-ahh…you’re exerting yourself too much. be a good boy and maybe i’ll suck you off.”

“you’re an insufferable tease,” he pants. “just wait until i’m healed enough to properly fuck you again. you’re gonna be sorry, love.”

“mmhm…i’m quite looking forward to it, darling,” you say, wiping the smarmy grin off his face when you bend down and swirl your tongue around the moist head of his cock. 

wrapping your lips around his girth, you sink down until his blunt tip presses against the back of your throat. you can hear the rustle of the sheets twisting in kaeya's fists as you hold him there until you gag and pull off, the wet sound of your saliva sliding over the head of his cock filling the room as you jerk him off.

“fuck, babe, i’m so close. please…” he whines.

knowing exactly what he wants, you take him into your hot mouth again, this time bobbing and sucking with hollowed cheeks, prepared to drink his impending orgasm from his needy cock. the mere thought of kaeya's seed splashing against the back of your throat makes you clench your thighs and moan around his length. and with that, a string of curses leaves his filthy mouth as his cock twitches, releasing ribbon after ribbon of hot cum against your tongue. there’s so much more than usual, you can’t swallow it all in time and it begins to leak from the corners of your lips, kaeya's milky white fluid contrasting beautifully as it oozes down his dark-skinned shaft.

you lift your face to his, his pouty lips trembling against yours as he tastes himself there. smiling into the kiss, you murmur, "i am very much looking forward to that dinner date, mr. alberich."

"as you should..." he hums.

kaeya's m.list | main m.list

・ﾟ✧ please consider reblogging if you enjoyed ♡

[whomstress]

A Doll and her Favorite Stuffie

Riding this crazy writing inspo as long as it goes.

Swapped au Circus au based after @xentepez designs on twitter.

Ragatha thinks over her relationship with her special relationship with her precious Stuffie.

Few adjustments to the original au for personal plot. Jax is a crybaby light blue stuffed bunny and Ragatha is practically Barbie doll who kinda looks like Jessica Rabbit just with a more PG dress.

Ragatha ruled this place. If she was going to be stuck here as a knock-off Barbie, this was going to be her dream house. The ring leader, Pomni, was easily manipulated; the AI was annoying as hell with her chaoticness and stupid adventures, but they did care about the characters comfort. A normal person might appreciate that someone was trying to keep them sane, but Ragatha cut through the bullshit. If anyone knew how to get out of here, it was her, and if she wasn’t going to tell them and treat them like playthings, then she could play too.

All Ragatha had to do was bat her eyes and say something was "wrong.” With the illusion of a circus, she would snap her fingers to change it. They didn’t always fall for it, unfortunately. Everyone may complain that she’s selfish, but when they need something, they come straight to her. Even if Gaggle’s design was based on royalty, Ragatha was the queen of this hive.

They needed something; she’d get it, and in return, they put up with her games and demands. Gangle wanted a room built for royalty glitz and glam galore. Her room was full of digital furs and jewelry, with a bed and wardrobe that filled up half the room in less than a week. Zooble had endless spare parts to change into in a blink of an eye. Caine asked for bigger bathrooms. The oddly shaped jester was unable to fit comfortably before. Even Kinger, the resident loon, asked for a secret place to go when he needed to be alone. Well, secret to everyone but her.

It made her feel amazing. These people would fall apart without her, and some did. No one could deny she was needed, and everyone came to her. Well, almost everyone.

Jax. The one person who never asked her for anything, and she meant anything. Even when he was literally splitting at the seams, cotton puffs were falling from his body. He really didn’t ask for anything, but being the Queen Bee with a hold on one of the worker bees rubbed her the wrong way.

She started off by offering anything he could want, but he denied her. Sometimes she’d see his eyes long for something, and she’d think he’d finally give in, only to see him sigh and give up. He even offered to give her some of her wants at no charge. She couldn’t wrap her head around him, and it made her both intrigued and bitter. Ragatha soon decided he was her new favorite toy. Sure, she couldn’t get him to take anything, but he was a people-pleaser. And God did she like to be pleased.

Starting softly, she’d make his personal space her own. Legs on his lap, lounging on his shoulders, pulling on his floppy ears, making him yelp and jump. Which was adorable, she had to admit. Then, having him carry her around like a princess when she got bored or just refused to walk anymore, occasionally going into his room to take a nap on his bed because she could At first, she did it cause she thought it would set him off, but he just gave her a plush quilt that came into the room and slept in his chair. She remembers calling him a dumb bunny and leaving, feeling an unfamiliar heat in her body and face, but still coming back.

Eventually, she did find things that made him tick, but in an unexpected way. Going back to his ears while he was carrying her on another adventure she got bored on. She decided to feel a patch he had recently put on his ear that made her curious about the texture. She petted it much softer than she meant to, and she felt him shudder and nearly drop her yelling for the first time since he’d been here. “Don’t!”

Ragatha should've been furious for him raising his voice at her, but he adjusted her so she was farther away from his ears, and she could feel his heart beat practically beating out of his chest and his face engulfed with the sweetest deep blue blush she’d ever seen. Something clicked in her brain, and she giggled softly and low, snuggling closer to him. He tried to keep his gaze ahead even when he felt her eyes bore into him. Jax gulped when she pulled up and whispered in his ear, “Good to know. What a funny bunny!"

From that moment on, her teasing turned in a completely different direction. Ragatha was much more touchy, and his space was hers now. She loved watching him crumble under her stare. Making herself so irresistible that even Mr. doesn’t ask for anything would bend his own rules just to bask in her sweet touches She reveled in the way he’d melt for her, almost never granting him the first touches or kisses, connecting them in a way they didn’t let anyone else. He had to prove to her every time how much he wanted her. Like she wanted him.

Examining her nails on his bed, her eyes drift to the lanky, plush bunny, sniffling as he finishes stitching a patch on his ear. A smile stretches across her lips as she spots an opportunity too good to pass up. She moves quietly to stand behind him and puts herself in view of the hand mirror he’s looking at to examine his stitchwork. Spotting her, he jumps in surprise and rips the leftover thread hard from his ear, knocking himself down and causing a new set of tears to fall.

“Jezz Stuffie, it’s one thing to be a cry baby, but do you have to be so clumsy too? It makes it hard to like you.” She winks, flopping herself directly into his lap instead of helping him up. His breath hitches at her weight but then settles for whatever she has in store. It’s not good to fight her too much; he learned that not long after he got here and has been reminded every time after. She smiles sweetly at him, but it's predatory, like a lioness eyeing a gazelle, and he reaches for a gloved hand to nervously scratch at his floppy ears. She pinches his cheek a little rough and pouts, "But you’re much too cute to let that stop me.”

His face flushes a darker blue, and despite enjoying her attention, he knows she’s just messing with him and frowns. "Y-You shouldn’t tease people like that; it isn’t n-nice.”

“Who did this to you, Stuffie?” She hums senselessly and tugs at his newly sown ear, and he winces and whines a bit, which makes a mischievous smile spread on her face.

“You did. L-last night. Remember?” She snaps her fingers as if she really forgot and nods. She was a little rough with him last night, wasn’t she? It’s not like he didn’t like it as much as she did, given the way he encouraged her at times.

“I’m sorry, does it really hurt?” She says, giggling, and this makes him pout and look away.

"Awww, don’t be like that bunny doll. I can make it up to you. I’ll be nice today.” She says this, bringing her lips to the newly stitched spot in a long, soft kiss. Jax gasped with a shiver. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?” She says cooing, closing in on his personal space. Eyeing him the entire time as she leans in, reveling in the way his heart starts beating so fast she can feel it under her palm and his flush turning a deeper blue.

“Not r-really.” he whispers, just as she’s about to place a kiss on his lips. Even as his eyes are hooded, he waits for her to move in.

Ragatha stops, though, and pulls back. “What did you just say?”

Oh no.

“I-I meant-” He starts to defend himself. But she instantly interrupts him with a glare.

“Go on.”

He tries to get the courage to speak up again, but all he can muster is a hushed, “You said you’d be nice.”

As much as she wants to pull exactly what he meant in this very moment, Ragatha, despite popular belief, didn’t actually like when he looked genuinely scared of her. Sure, she liked making him anxious and squirmy, but that was his default anyway. She frowns before blowing out a huge puff of air, forcing herself to relax a bit. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate it. You know I’m not going to hurt you.” She says moving back away from him more. Looking away with a serious pout this time.

Jax calms down, instantly feeling guilty, and moves to bring her back to him. She brushes him off, and his face gets a bit more serious. “I’m sorry.”

This was not the right thing to say, as she glared while still looking away, now crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “Don’t apologize. Tell me what you meant.”

There’s an awkward silence, and he watches her and finally says, “Are you going to cry?”

Her head snaps at him, and her anger is back in a moment. “No, Jax. I’m not going to cry just because my boyfriend thinks I’m a manipulative monster. I’m not a pathetic child like you." She spits out the last part.

He initially winces, but then a look of sympathy comes over his face. He knows her. She’s doing this because she feels weak. If there’s one thing she never wanted anyone to think, it was that she was anything less than a person with a will of pure steel.

She’s angry, but he can see the hurt in her eyes as well. He didn’t mean to upset her, so he gives her what she wants and says, “I never said that. I j-just meant that sometimes I’m not sure you like me.” Her expression turns to a frown, and he continues, "Sometimes I feel like I'm more a g-game than anything. And i-if we weren’t stuck here, you wouldn’t want me…”

For a moment, she examines him, softening before glaring again and hopping back completely into his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist and grabbing his overalls, pulling him in like she’s going to headbutt him, causing him to yelp. “Listen here, you dumb bunny. I have never and will never do a damn thing I don’t want to. Are we clear?”

He nods with a gulp, and she searches his eyes for any traces of doubt left and must be satisfied because she pulls back with a smile, brushing out his overalls where she gripped them. “Good. Now that that's clear, I think you owe me something.”

“I’m s-”

She stops him. “Not that.”

Once again, she adjusts herself on his lap, so she lazily lays her arms around his neck from above, giving him another predatory grin. She grabs his ear and pulls it back until his neck is exposed, and she instantly works on leaving her brand on his skin. He gasps, wrapping shaky hands around her. Letting out a whine, asking for more.

“Silly rabbit.” Slowly moving back, she goads him to open his mouth and descends with a hushed “Tricks are for kids.”

[beautifulhigh]

Every nation ought to have a right to provide for its own happiness.

"And that's when Henry knows: He doesn't ever want to go back."

In which Henry does go home with a request for his grandmother - and for Parliament.

Teen, 12k, book canon compliant.

---

Yes, Jen is finally embracing her Firstprince era and writing fic for them. Much love to @wtfuckevenknows for her comments and @capseycartwright for basically demanding I write this. Like I needed convincing.

This is just something sweet and fluffy and hopefully a little funny and a bit sexy with a tinge of canon-compliant angst (Henry misses his dad. A lot). Mostly it's about two boys in love and working towards their forever.

---

Henry flies back alone, overnight on Monday. He kisses Alex a goodnight goodbye, petting David gently as he walks down the stairs, heading out of the front door before climbing into the back of the waiting car to take him to JFK. He tries to sleep on the plane but very little sleep will come; his mind is racing with what he's about to do.

He'd sent word the previous week, asking for an audience with the queen, with his family. He'd only told them that he had something to ask, something he needed to do in person.

He's met at Heathrow, standards and protocols in place. Bea had insisted Shaan be kept on after Henry left for New York and so it's his familiar face greeting Henry which provides the smallest amount of comfort for him. It's his final week in service to the Royal Family: with Ellen's second term almost over and Zahra no longer working 26-hour days, they're finally taking the plunge.

Shaan and Henry had managed a fair few conversations over the last year or so regarding the immigration system of the United States and how shagging someone with status in the American political system both helps and hinders applications for Green Cards. The engagement ring that has been in place on Zahra's hand for the last few years certainly helped with his and now there is a fixed date for his one-way ticket heading west.

(No one really knows yet, but they've set a date for two weeks' time. The plan is to get married and throw a party and make the announcement then. Zahra hasn't told anyone, but Shaan isn't as good as his fiancée at keeping things secret, especially when it comes to his relationship with Henry. Aside from Alex, before Alex, Shaan was the only person Henry could trust and that was rewarded with a private 'Save The Date And Don't Tell Anyone Not Even Alex' message.) 

Henry knows there is no one better placed to support Zahra as she forges her career post-White House. Someone who will make sure she eats, has fresh coffee, and a neatly pressed suit. There were times when Shaan was literally the only reason Henry didn't outwardly reveal to the world that he was actually falling apart at the seams. It's going to be nice having him a little bit closer, even if he won't be working for him anymore.

As Henry disembarks the plane, Shaan looks him up and down but says nothing. Henry knows he looks tired; he knows the jet lag is going to catch up with him, and he feels like his internal organs are going to vibrate their way out of his body with how nervous he feels.

Keep reading

[i-fondued]

Ghost | Sinners in Secret | Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty Six - The Wedding Night Incident Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader/Sister of Sin x Papa “Terzo” Emeritus III Rating: Explicit Warnings: Plot, smut, etc. See AO3 for full list of tags! A/N: ** INSERT 'I WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC AND VANISHED EXCUSE HERE' LOL! no but for real I'm sorry I fell off the planet, long story short my ten year relationship fell apart, I started my post-semi divorce hoe stage with someone I work with, lost all motivation and inspiration to write, have insane/mindblowingly good sex, see Fall Out Boy and BMTH at Fenway Park and managed to squeeze in time to see my first ritual at which I acted like a feral goblin LOL

As always, this chapter is has been reviewed by my beta, @lurancyvenom whom I love! Thank you for coming to stay with me and coming to the ritual with me, literally has been the best week of my life and I cried the whole way home from the airport LOL <3

Full Chapter List - HERE AO3 Link - HERE

No sooner had I heard the sound of the lock flicking closed behind me did I feel hands tugging my veil off my head, tossing it to the side. Someone’s lips were already pressed against the skin of my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh, and I could no longer hold in the whimper that bubbled up in my throat. I felt Terzo chuckle against my skin as he stepped close behind me and his lips brushed against my bare shoulder. His hands settled on the curve of my waist and he pulled me back firmly against him. 

Suddenly feeling almost boneless, I couldn’t help my head rolling back against his shoulder, eyes shut, as he pressed featherlight kisses into my skin. I felt as though I was basking in the warm glow of Mediterranean sunshine as the heat pooled in my belly and in my chest. Gods, it seemed an eternity had passed since I’d had them so close to me, and I was drunk off of the sensation of them touching me together, finally at the point we’d all been waiting so long to reach. 

Strong hands cupped my jaw and I locked eyes with Copia’s mismatched gaze, filled with liquid fire. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to mine in a soft kiss filled with many light emotions. 

“...Ti amo…” he mumbled. “Amore… mia moglie… nostra moglie…”

The tone he used made a shudder slip down my spine, a gasp shared between our parted lips.

“Mm… la nostra amata moglie, Cardinale,” Terzo chuckled behind us. “Now she is all ours… nobody else's…”

Again, like twin flames, they pressed featherlight, open mouthed kisses to my skin. My chest, shoulders, cheeks, chin - anything within reach. I was panting and we hadn’t even moved from in front of the doors yet. 

“I love you, both of you...” I whimpered as Terzo rocked his hips, and obvious hard cock, against my ass. “You’re mine…”

Copia growled, deep and possessive, and he tugged me away from the doorway towards our bedroom. I followed along, almost like a marionette, and I took Terzo’s hand as we moved to bring him with me. I couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from my lips, and I blushed at the roguish look in my Papa’s eyes. Once we were in the bedroom, Copia made quick work of tearing the dress off of my body. Literally. I couldn’t help but gasp at the sound of the ripping seams, heat instantly pooling between my legs, and I locked eyes with him as he groaned. 

“Oh Tesoro…” Terzo chuckled behind me, his hand snapping out and cracking me on my bare ass. I jumped, letting out a quiet gasp. “How positively sinful… naked for us?”

I purred under Terzo’s touch as his hands, bare and warm, kneaded the stinging spot as he stepped close enough to grind against me. I felt drunk as I stood there panting, my eyes unfocused as they locked with Copia’s, the heat and lust evident in his hungry gaze. Copia stepped close to us, one hand settling at my waist as the other reached out and tipped my chin up, and he pressed his lips to mine in a kiss so searing it took my breath away. I whimpered as one of my hands reached out and cupped his jaw, my other reached back to grope at the swell of Terzo’s cock. 

The shorter man behind me let out a hiss between gritted teeth, resting his painted face against my shoulder as he rocked rhythmically against me. His hands settled at my hips before one slipped between my legs and ghosted against my core. I moaned into Copia’s kiss, heat flooding my veins, then tore away from him to snake one hand into Terzo’s hair and tug his lips to mine. 

He chuckled into my frenzied kiss, his fingers skilfully plucking the strings of my arousal in a way that only he knew how. 

“I want to taste you, Topolino,” Copia muttered, his hands sliding from my waist to curve around the swell of my breasts. I whimpered, burying my face into Terzo’s neck. “On the bed. Now.”

The sharp growl of the last word sent another shiver down my spine, and lust pooled between my legs. I kicked off my shoes, dress long abandoned on the floor, and slipped into the massive four poster. I watched as they both tugged their tailcoats and vests off, kicking off their own shoes. I couldn’t help the giggled shriek as Copia’s hand wrapped around my ankle and he tugged me to him, settling between my legs and trailing soft kisses down my chest. A soft groan slipped out before I could stop myself as he pressed gentle, teasing kisses against my hips and thighs, his fingers featherlight as he caressed my core. 

“Copia…please…” I whined, hands reaching down to thread into his dark hair. “No more teasing…”

“Ah, ah amore…” he spoke, and I jumped at the feeling of his breath against the apex of my thighs, a shudder running through me. “It is our wedding night, no? There is no rush…”

I felt my hips jump as his fingers slipped just slightly inside me, teasing me as they ran back and forth against my wet slit, but never went beyond barely grazing against my clit. I felt the bed dip and turned to see Terzo, positively feral as he looked down at me. He’d stripped naked already while I was distracted, and my eyes instantly drifted to his cock, my mouth practically watering. Gods I’d missed them, this feeling of being enveloped in love and passion and lust. 

“I need you, too…” I whimpered. While one hand remained curled in Copia’s hair, I couldn’t help as I reached out with the other for Terzo. The third Emeritus son was never one to last long when it came to me, not when I begged, and he smiled lasciviously as he slid next to me. 

“Always, Tesoro…” he purred, settling tightly against me to press soft kisses to my chest, collarbones, and bare breasts. “Anything for you.”

At that moment, Copia began to tease me with the tip of his tongue. I gasped, throwing my head back and arching my spine as his fingers spread me open and his tongue lapped at my core. My cunt clenched tightly as he groaned, his nose buried against me, and I rolled my hips in an attempt to get any friction I possibly could. His fingers suddenly thrusted into me while he sucked on my clit, and I felt my thighs clench against his head. The thread of my orgasm pulled tight, a strangled moan falling from my lips as I rode one husband’s face while the other murmured in my ear words of praise as he ground against my hip.

“Sweet girl, la nostra dolce ragazza…” Terzo murmured in my ear, his hands coming to settle against my throat. “Look at il tua Cardinale, si? Look at the way he devours you… I want you to look at him as he takes you apart.”

A broken gasp ripped its way from my throat as Copia slipped two fingers inside of me and curled to caress the sweet spot deep within me. I looked down and locked my gaze with Copia’s, a positively sinful look in his eyes. I was shaking, panting, and my fingernails dug into his scalp as he timed a flick of his tongue with a curling of his fingers and I saw stars. My orgasm ripped through me with little warning, my hips writhing against his mouth, and a strangled moan filled the room. It clearly had been too long since I’d been able to let them pluck the pleasure from my body. 

Copia pulled away and crawled his way up my boneless body, leaving wet open mouth kisses against my skin. My nerves felt frayed but I could tell by the look in their eyes that neither man was finished with me. I shuddered as Terzo tugged on my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. 

“My turn, Tesoro…” he chuckled darkly, a wolfish smile on his lips. Even after all this time I couldn't help the blush that spread over my cheeks.

Suddenly, with an ungraceful yelp, I felt myself flipped over and onto my front, my face in Copia’s lap while Terzo pushed my knees apart. I looked up at Copia, his eyes filled with so many emotions and heat that I couldn’t help the smile on my lips. He shifted slightly and I could see his cock in all its glory in front of my face, then gasped as the tip of Terzo’s tongue ran up the back of my thigh, followed by a kiss to my slick folds. 

My hand moved without thinking, curling around Copia’s cock tightly and moving in time with Terzo’s gentle, exploratory kisses to my core. I was panting and arching back against him in time with the movements, a whimper slipping from my lips before I could stop it. Copia drank in the sight of us greedily, his eyes hungry as he watched his lovers, his spouses, take pleasure in each others bodies. I felt the Cardinal’s hips begin to rock with the movement of my hand and I locked eyes with him as I finally took his cock, dripping precum, into my mouth with a groan. 

I watched as Copia slowly leaned back against the pillows, his arm behind his head as he held my gaze. I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine. Suddenly there was a crack of skin on skin before the heat bloomed on my ass, and I couldn’t help the hiss that slipped out around Copia’s cock.

“Concentrati, amore…” Terzo chuckled behind me, a dark and mischievous sound. “We would not want to disappoint il Cardinale, sì?”

The feeling of Papa’s bare fingers sliding in and out of me, the pad of his thumb brushing teasingly against my clit with a feather-like pressure, it was almost too much. My eyes were hooded as I locked my gaze on Copia, who for his part was panting and lightly thrusting into my warm mouth as I bobbed up and down slowly. He groaned and his hand slipped to lovingly cup my jaw, his thumb brushing my cheek before twining his fingers through the hair at the crown of my head, urging me to pick up the pace. I moaned as I took Copia as deeply as I could, still not the entire length of his cock, and shuddered as Terzo slipped another finger inside of me. Papa curled his fingers and gently pressed against the spot deep inside me that made my legs shake and my arms almost give out. 

“That’s it, amore,” Copia hissed, hips bucking up at a faster pace to match my movements. “Una brava ragazza per me…”

“Ah, ah, Cardinale. We do not want to lose you so soon, hm?” Terzo chuckled, pulling away from my core and the building pressure began to ebb. I whined, but that didn’t stop the shorter man from wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me back against him. “Our lovely bride still has much in store for the evening…”

Copia’s cock popped out of my mouth as Terzo yanked me back and away from the other panting man. The look in Copia’s eyes could only be classified as borderline ghoul-like, feral and fiery. I could practically hear the growl deep in his chest as I was pulled away.

“Terzo…” Copia said, his voice low and menacing. “You better have a good reason for stopping Sorella…”

“Why of course, Cardinale… always.” Terzo chuckled, his hand snaking up and around my throat to hold me in place as he gripped my hip with his other hand.

I felt him under me, his cock hard and straining as I attempted to grind back against him. He chuckled, pulling me against his chest, and whispering against the shell of my ear.

“Papa gets what Papa wants, sì, amore?”

All I could manage in response was a keening, whimper-like sound. I knew it was all for the other man in the bed with us. I was a pawn between these two powerful men, a beautiful prize to be won in their unspoken battle of pleasure. Not that I was complaining. No, I was happy to be the one receiving all the attention from them.

A light squeeze of my throat brought my attention back to the moment as I felt Terzo settle behind me, his other hand gripping tight to my hips as I panted and tried to roll my hips against him. His chuckle was a deep rumble against my bare back as he slowly ran his cock against my dripping cunt, a broken gasp slipping from my parted lips. 

“Pazienza, dolce ragazza, pazienza, sì?” Terzo’s voice deep as he whispered to me; his breath hot on the shell of my ear, my breath ragged. “A little tease for our dear sposa…”

I felt the pleasure rolling deep in my belly and I couldn’t help but look at Copia, heat filling my cheeks as I took in the sight of him. His hair was a mess; between my fingers curling in the strands while he ate my cunt like a starving man, and his own hands running through it to push it back away from his eyes, it looked wild. His paints had been smeared on his lips, some almost certainly between my thighs, and the large panda-like eyes were muddled around the edges from sweat. He looked disheveled and undone, something the very reserved Cardinal never let show. I couldn’t help the small smirk that appeared on my face as he locked eyes with me, knowing full well I was the one responsible for this panting mess of a man.

Suddenly Terzo pushed his hips forward, the tip of his cock popping deliciously into me as he edged forward. I gasped, eyes snapping wide as I arched my back and tried to turn back to look at my Papa. His hand on my throat slid upwards and under my jaw, pinning my head to meet Copia’s gaze. The Cardinal was enraptured, his gaze locked on mine, his chest rapidly rising and falling.

“Look Tesoro, look what you do to il nostro soffocante cardinale…” Terzo purred, his hips slowly ebbing and flowing against my shaking body. “Let us give him a good show, eh?”

I cried out as the tight grip on my hip slipped to my lower stomach as Terzo used my arched back against me and began to thrust into me at a punishing pace, the angle perfect as it allowed him to lave against that sensitive spot deep inside me. I shuddered against him, small pants slipping past my lips, all while I obediently kept my eyes on Copia. Terzo’s lips pressed softly against my neck and shoulder as his tongue and teeth gently grazed against my over-sensitive skin. I watched Copia’s hands clench and unclench, something he only did when struggling with a decision; a thrill running up my spine at the thought of what it could possibly be.

I could feel the embers of heat in my belly begin to grow into a steady flame, my thighs shaking as Terzo held me tightly in place. The noises I was making began to grow in both frequency and volume as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside me. I was fighting to keep my eyes open as my nails dug into the soft sheets below me. 

“Terzo…please…” I begged, my voice almost ragged as I panted.

“Are you close, amore?” Terzo purred, the hand around my throat coming to cup my cheek and turn my gaze to look at his mismatched eyes.

“Y-yes!”

The coil was so tight it was almost painful, my breath was labored, and I knew my lips must have been swollen.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, mismatched eyes flashing for a moment as he kissed me, suddenly, possessively. 

The hand holding my jaw gripped my wrist, wrenching my hand from where I was clawing at the sheets and shoving it between my thighs. His finger guided my own at first until my sex-addled brain caught up and took over the aggressive movements. I was moaning and panting into his mouth, my head falling back against my shoulder as his movements became less and less precise. I knew he was as close as I was, my eyes drooping closed as I felt the last strands of the rope holding my orgasm deep in my belly begin to fray. A smack on my ass made me yelp and my eyes flew open, Terzo’s smug face looking right at me as my body began to shake with the effort of holding my orgasm back.

“Eyes on me, amate,” he growled, and a whimper slipped from my lips. “Vieni per il tua Papa…”

The wave of my second orgasm of the evening ripped through me, a strangled cry bursting out before Terzo’s lips were on mine again. I shuddered in his arms, the pair of us falling forward slightly as he pounded into me before I felt his hips falter for a moment. His cock twitched inside me as he followed me over the precipice, both of us panting in the afterglow together. I slumped, boneless in his arms as I tried to gather my breath.

“Dolce, bella ragazza…” Terzo muttered as he pressed soft kisses to my bare back.

I smiled, slightly delirious and exhausted as I stretched out my burning thighs. I could feel the chuckle rumbling in Terzo’s chest behind me.

“It looks like I won the bet, Cardinale,” Terzo preened, and my eyes slid open, watching the two men as I adjusted my position to settle back against the pillows. “Amore looks… come si dice… cock wasted?”

“Cock drunk.” Copia’s voice was low and gravely, my eyes drifted towards him. 

The expression on his face was dangerous and I couldn’t help the thrill that ran through me. There was only one thing that face meant, and I was quite looking forward to what was in store. 

“She looks pretty okie dokie to me, yes?”  

I couldn’t help the snort that slipped out, my hands coming up to cover my mouth a second too late, and the arched eyebrow on Copia’s face told me all I needed to know. 

“On your feet, Topolino…”

His hand grabbed mine as he slipped from the bed, practically dragging me along after him as I struggled to make my legs work. My body was already deliciously sore as I moved to follow Copia, whose mismatched eyes flicked between my own and Terzo’s slightly shocked face from where he sat. We stopped at the foot of the bed, Copia coming to stand behind me as he pressed a hand between my shoulders to have me bend at the waist. He gently nudged my legs apart, widening my stance as I placed my hand on the ottoman at the footboard. I whimpered slightly as I felt Copia’s hand ghost over my swollen cunt, already beginning to drip at the multiple ideas of what awaited me. 

“You see, Fratello…”

“That is marito now, Cardinale…” Terzo snickered.

“Mi scusi, marito…” I didn’t need to see Copia to know the look on his face was murderous. “La nostra sposa and I have been together longer than you and her; naturally I would say I know her body better than you do, no?”

There was a sharp edge to his sickly sweet tone, and I felt my skin prickle. I couldn’t see him but I could sense him, almost like prey trying to stay still to avoid the eye of their hunter. I knew my breath was coming in quick pants, heart thundering in my chest.

“Per esempio…” A sudden sharp crack of his hand on my ass made me jump, though I had enough sense to keep my gasp as quiet as I could. “I know that she prefers a rougher hand at times, sì Topolino?”

Another crack of skin on skin and I wasn’t so lucky as to keep the cry in this time. I heard Copia chuckle as his hand gently ran over the reddening spot, my instinct taking over as I pushed back against his gentle touch.

“Y-yes Sir.” The words didn’t seem as confident as I said them out loud, tone warbling at the end. I couldn’t help but let my eyes drift to Terzo. 

His breathing, previously calm and collected, was now borderline panting. Even from here I could see the way his pupils were blown wide as he watched Copia and I, his cock already hardening again between his thighs. 

“Una brava ragazza… I had her trained so quickly.” Copia’s voice was coming from behind my right side, my heart thundering as I tried to brace for the next swat of his hand. “She took to this so swiftly, so well…”

I jumped as his fingertips just barely brushed against the column of my spine, like he was trying to feel out each and every vertebrae along the way. His hand stopped just at the base of my neck, lazily drawing a small circle. My skin prickled, goosebumps breaking out all over as I tried to not shake under his soft exploration.

“She reminded me of someone…” He was just in my peripheral vision on my right, I was practically eye level with his cock and I had to resist the urge to drop to my knees and finish what I’d started earlier.

“She reminds me of you, my dear marito.”

The noise Terzo made was so borderline inhuman, I couldn’t stop my head tilting up to look at him. He had scooted forward on the bed, closer to us now and sat back on his haunches. I dared to look over my shoulder at Copia, feeling emboldened by the distraction of Terzo, and the look on the Cardinal’s face made me almost stop this little exchange in favor of an evening more akin to a romance novel.

Copia’s face may have the sharp edge of a dominant taking charge of two submissives, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings. They were soft and full of warmth that was nothing close to the steaming exchange happening in front of me. I knew there had always been an unspoken bond between them, a tension that never felt quite like two close friends. This was as close to a confession of love I had heard from Copia, and my heart clenched at the idea of my husbands not only in love with me but also one another.

Terzo clearly felt the same way as me, if the goofy grin on his face was anything to go by. Papa slipped off the bed, coming around to us. His hand on the small of Copia’s back caught the taller man’s attention. Gently and with more emotion than I thought was possible from the normally dramatic satanic pope, Terzo pressed a soft kiss to Copia’s lips. The Cardinal’s arms came around the smaller man’s waist and he tugged him tighter against him, the kiss growing heated as their lips parted. I couldn’t help as I slowly straightened up, blushing as I watched them. After a moment Terzo pulled back, a small soft smile on his lips as they rested their foreheads against each other. 

“Ti amo anch'io, Francesco,” Terzo chuckled, stepping back slightly and coming to me. 

His eyes were warm as he pulled me into his arms, cupping my cheek with one hand and slowly pressing his lips to mine. There was so much emotion in that simple action I thought I might actually cry, my arms slipping around his neck as I pulled him in. He chuckled into the kiss before stepping away slightly, turning to look back at Copia with a wry look on his face.

“No more of this game, eh Cardinale? Let us show her how we can work together to give her the best night of her life…”

Twin pairs of mismatched eyes turned to me, a blush spreading over my cheeks as they smirked at me. I felt Terzo’s arm wrap around my waist and pull me towards the bed, Copia’s gaze on my nude form as I followed obediently.

I slipped onto the bed, reclining in the middle of the mattress, and watched Terzo as he crawled toward me before settling between my legs. I felt his hand as it slid up my thigh, sending goosebumps over my skin. Terzo leaned forward and pressed soft kisses to my jaw and I couldn’t help as my eyes fluttered shut. 

“Amore… keep your eyes open,” Terzo chuckled as his lips slowly slid down my neck and his teeth nipped the sensitive spot by my ear. “We would not want to miss il Cardinale joining us, sì?”

I felt the bed dip as Copia came to slide himself behind me, and I leaned back against his bare chest, my head now resting on his shoulder and ass nestled against his hardening cock. I arched my back as Terzo’s lips slowly slid down my neck, across my collarbone and between my breasts while Copia’s hands slid from my upper arms, ghosting against the underside of my breasts, and came to settle on my hips. I felt him lean me forward slightly, a gasp bursting from my lips as he slipped his hand between my thighs, teasing my clit as he whispered to Terzo and I.

“Who is going to get the pleasure of your cunt this evening, Stellina?” the Cardinal growled, emphasizing his words with a rough roll of his hips. I moaned, resting my head against Copia’s shoulder while his fingers lazily pressed against my clit. “Mi chiedo chi avrà il piacere di scopare il tuo culetto stretto…”

There was a sort of strangled sound in the air, though truth be told I wasn’t sure whether it had emanated from Terzo or myself. Copia’s cock was now between my legs as he rolled his hips against mine, sliding back and forth against my slick cunt. I shuddered at the feeling as Terzo pulled my head forward to press a searing kiss against my lips. I moaned wantonly, feeling like a wooden marionette with the strings cut as he pulled me into his arms and settled me above him.

“Ride me, amore mia. I want to see your face when you come undone for us…” Papa groaned as I slid down on his rigid cock. A shudder ran down my spine, head thrown back and eyes hooded as I moaned his name.

I gave a few experimental rolls of my hips, before I looked behind me and locked on Copia’s face. His cheeks were flushed, hand roughly pumping his cock while spreading a slick liquid all over his length and fingers. I felt the bed shift as Terzo moved his legs to make room for Copia to settle behind me. I squirmed, rolling my hips against Terzo and I felt Papa’s hands grip my hips to hold me in place. Suddenly something pressed against my ass and I couldn’t help but tense up as Copia spread the lube.

“Stellina, you will need to relax…” The Cardinal purred in my ear, pressing his fingers against the tight muscle. “I will not hurt you… we will take this slow, yes?”

“Y-yes…” I gasped softly, cunt clenching as he gently teased me with his fingertip. “Yes, Copia…”

“Una ragazza così buona e desiderosa…” Copia groaned, finger now sliding in and out of meding in and out of me. 

Terzo groaned below me, his hands gripping my hips tightly to prevent me from rolling against them both. My own little sound of pleasure slipping from my lips, my hands planted firmly on Papa’s chest to keep myself upright as my thighs strained with the effort of keeping myself still. I let out a strangled cry as Copia slipped another finger in, my nails digging into Terzo’s skin despite his hiss of pain. I took a moment to adjust my position into something more comfortable while Copia scissored his fingers slightly as he slipped them in and out slowly, stretching me and making me feel more full than I ever had been before. Again, almost tenderly, Copia waited for me to adjust to the change before moving again. It wasn’t tease me anymore…”

“Copia…” I whined, feeling wanton as I rocked against him. I could feel Terzo straining to hold himself back. “Please don’t tease me anymore…”

“Are you sure, amore?” Copia groaned as I arched back against him again, the curve of my ass pressed against him. 

My only response was to moan into his neck as I buried my face against him. A deep, rumbling chuckle emanated from the Cardinal and I shuddered as he pulled his fingers from my ass before pushing me forward gently. His hand pressed against my lower back, causing me to arch my hips for him.

“Era da tanto che non condividevamo una donna così, sì marito?” Terzo hissed, his hands still gripping my hips almost painfully while I tried to squirm to find any sort of relief from the growing heat in my belly. “Una ragazza così coraggiosa…”

I felt the head of Copia’s cock brush against the tight muscle and I gasped, nails again digging into the bare skin of Terzo’s chest.

“Rilassati tesoro…” Copia mumbled in my ear, the slow push forward inside of me causing him to hiss at the feeling of me tensing up.

I couldn’t help the high pitched, strangled sound that slipped past my lips. My eyes fluttered shut, and Copia paused to give me time to adjust to the feeling of both of them. Copia’s hand on the small of my back slipped around to my lower stomach, pulling me and stretching me to the perfect angle for him to slip in. Terzo below me was shaking and panting, his expression almost pained, and I felt as he just barely shifted his hips. I could feel not only both of them inside me but the moment they brushed against one another through my walls, the heads of their cocks nudging each other. 

There were stars behind my eyes and a pulse deep in my belly as I tried to adjust my position while the two men inside of me began timing their thrusts to accommodate the other. I could feel Terzo shaking like a leaf below me; I knew he wouldn’t last long like this, and I couldn’t help but whimper as Copia pushed forward deeper inside of me. 

“C-cazzo, Stelina…” Copia groaned, resting his head against my shoulder blades as he panted. His thrusts faltered slightly and I knew they both were closer than either would like to admit. “Una brava ragazza per noi…”

A shudder ran through me and I bit my bottom lip to hold back a keening sound as Copia’s hand slipped from my lower belly to brush slightly against my clit. Terzo watched us with rapt attention, his face visibility flushed through his paints. 

“Do you see what you do to our Papa, amore?” Copia purred into my ear, his hips grinding against mine as he pushed me to rest more of my weight on my hands. “Don’t you see how he burns for you?”

I rocked my hips as much as I was able to in my position, Copia’s fingers skillfully plucking at the last strings of my orgasm. Both men groaned at the same time, and I couldn’t help the cock drunk smile from appearing on my face. In that moment I knew that as much as these men liked to think otherwise, I was truly the one in charge of our combined pleasures. I couldn’t help but lean forward, hands moving to tug Terzo up as much as he could, and press a searing kiss to his lips as I felt the sudden snap of my orgasm. He swallowed my desperate cries with a moan of his own; I could hear Copia hiss and swear but my mind felt like it was floating. 

Another few staccato thrusts from Terzo below me, and I felt his cock twitch inside me. His hands gripped my hips so roughly I knew I’d have bruises in the morning. He rolled his hips along with the pulse of my aftershocks, both of us shuddering at the feeling. Behind me there was a growl from Copia who pushed until he was fully hilted inside me, my high pitched keening sound ringing in my ears. The Cardinal tilted my neck and buried his face before biting down hard, not enough to pierce the skin but enough to sting. I arched back against him, shaking in his arms as the three of us slowly came down from our high. I was panting, entirely boneless, and unable to contain the goofy smile on my face as I flopped onto Terzo’s chest. Copia pulled gingerly out of me with a gasp before collapsing next to Terzo and I; an arm lazily slung around us best as possible. 

“Woah…” was all I could manage to say, my consciousness floating high above us still.

“I could not agree more, tesoro,” Terzo chucked, the sound rumbling in his chest as I listened to his heart pounding.

I looked up at him, resting my chin on my hands, and smiled sleepily at him before turning to Copia. He looked like he’d just run a marathon, chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. I reached out to him, cupping his cheek fondly and gracelessly leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. I felt Copia smile into the kiss, his arm slipping from my waist to cup my jaw almost possessively. I pulled away, sitting back slightly to look at them both with a soft warmth in my chest. 

“I love you, both of you.” I smiled, tears welling in my eyes. “I cannot imagine what my life would be like without you two, thank you…”

“Oh Stelina…” Terzo crooned, hand coming up to brush the tears away from my cheeks. “Do not cry amore, you will make this old man cry too…”

“Satana sia buono,” Copia chuckled as he sat up closer to us, practically wagging his eyebrows at me. “The only time I want to see tears in your eyes tonight amore is from pleasure, eh?”

I felt my cheeks flush, a shiver down my spine, and I smiled as he cupped my chin and pulled me towards his lips. Somehow I knew none of us would be getting much sleep tonight.

[hopeful-hugz]

@strawberry-barista Liked the Countdown Studios Starter Call

"I suppose most of the new additions to the cast aren't too bad..." Amy sighs, glancing down at her tail and the clearly missing patches in it's skin-quilted form. The holes were too big for her to hide it with her more human-looking glamour at this point. Yet despite literally falling apart at the seams... she'd come by to visit Hanekoma again anyhow. "Hyde's friend Martingale is an efficient worker- I've been sharing the lab with her- and the kitten he's brought home recently hasn't been as much of a hassle as I thought it would be. Even the two contestants he insisted I assist in bringing back from a horrific game loss aren't too bad."

Quite a bit had happened since her last visit. From what it sounded like, the quiet and borderline-somber studio had been starting to blossom into an actual home, thanks to Leah's Co-host. Something the undead shadow seemed to be some semblance of content with.

Mostly.

"But there's one that has been absolutely abhorrent to work with. Another shadow like myself." Handing over her phone, Amy lets a video play of a young man made hollow glass, inside his body seemed to be a bubbling liquid that wasn't unlike soda. Like the woman in front of him, he had an aether-like tail, split into two tips at the end and seeming to be made of a fine clay and sand. Honestly, the shadow looks almost like Hope's brother; Teal.

The video itself is security camera footage of the bubble-blowing shadow stealing a pad of post-it notes from on top of a machine, crumpling up one of the tiny sheets and popping it in his mouth. The little yellow paper floats hear the top of his head, slightly obscured by white and grey hair. After that, there's the sound of a door and the glass-made young man scurrying off into another room. "Homunculus... Hom for short. My other 'brother' in a sense; if only because he is the shadow of your daughter's timebound brother. He's done nothing but cause trouble in the lab. Most recently that being 'accidentally' releasing the specimen I need to make the patches of flesh to mend my body. I'm not used to emotion, but he manages to aggravate me to what little emotional capacity I have. I'm not sure what to do with him at the moment. I cannot exterminate him, Hyde and L are both too fond of him."

[diamondbreakingboi]

Chapter: 1/1

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: Transformers (IDW Generation One)

Relationship: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet

Characters: Drift | Deadlock, Ratchet

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Sleepy Time

Summary: After a long day, Drift and Ratchet finally have time for themselves.

...

Short snippet for my beloved old married couple! I LOVE these two and I've always wanted to contribute something for them, so here you go! I hope you enjoy it!

...

Drift dived into the soft bedding of their large berth as soon as the door to their apartment opened.

He curled his entire figure around the plethora of blankets. He poked his head out to watch the other, patiently waiting for berth time. No one could blame him for wishing his conjunx was in berth with him.

“Come on,” Drift squirmed and flopped around in the blankets so Ratchet could see his pout.

If only he was looking in his direction, he would immediately drop everything he was doing and fall victim to Drift whims. It happened one fateful day when Ratchet literally dropped what he was doing and gave Drift his attention, which happened to be the mech’s leg that was currently being reattached. The mech was fine and Ratchet was upset for several days after, but it is a day that Drift refuses to let Ratchet live down. It’s not everyday you fluster the great, former, CMO Ratchet enough to make him forget his lifelong profession and current actions.

“Quit your whining, I’m almost done,” Ratchet called.

He was rearranging the scattered datapads from earlier in the morning. Assorted medical datapads with old and new techniques alike. He was brushing up for his next lecture only to be interrupted by an early emergency. Ratchet helped out at the local clinic in his spare time, despite being retired for several vorns now, much to Drift’s chagrin. But to appease him, Ratchet did allow, not that he needed it yet, he did appreciate Ratchet graciously giving it nonetheless, Drift to come along and give his assistance there.

Ratchet was being too slow, and while he could get up to help, he’s far too busy being comfortable and decidedly stays there annoying his conjunx, like a good conjunx should. “Ratty! I’m sleepy!”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

Drift smiled brightly. “Not enough.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m so cold without you here,” Drift complained.

“I don’t know how. You practically own a thousand blankets,” Ratchet grumbled. “There’s almost no room for me in there.”

Ratchet made his way over to the berth finally.

Drift giggled as he hid under the blankets. After a few more moments, Drift heard Ratchet clear his intake behind him.

“Are you gonna roll over?” A servo rubbed his shoulder gently and moved him so his body turned, but he smashed his face further in the pillow. “Did you hear me, Drift?”

Drift hummed and shrugged. “Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.”

“I can't because last time I checked, that’s my pillow,” Ratchet chuckled and poked Drift's shoulder.

“Not anymore,” Drift giggled, rubbing his face against it, sending a mischievous smirk towards Ratchet.

Ratchet pushed lightly against him. “You were one complaining about being cold," Ratchet said. "So, come on, scoot.”

Drift’s spark fluttered under Ratchet’s gentle glare and how his protoform scrunched up around his optics and laugh lines. Drift smirked. “Make me.”

Ratchet barely raised an optical ridge before diving for him, servos first.

Drift busted out laughing as Ratchet relentlessly tickled his sensitive sides, easily digging into his seams from years of practice.

Drift tried wiggling out of his grasp and tried grabbing the other’s hands but as his laughter rippled through them, Drift could not hold off the other. Despite being strong enough to push away mechs triple Ratchet’s size, he didn’t want to, he wanted to stay stuck in Ratchet’s arms for the rest of his life, however long or short it remains to be.

Alas, as with most things, fate had other plans. And his frame had limits. His intake and sides ached out, seeking an end to the joyous abuse..

His protests bubbled out in between his gasping laughter. “Stop, stop! I yield!”

“Then move,” Ratchet chuckled, ducking down to kiss Drift’s nose.

Drift rolled over to the other side of the berth with barely enough room for the other.

Ratchet laid down on the berth. He slowly vented, then looked over to Drift. A soft smile played on his dermas, content and besotted under their soft glow.

“Goodnight, Ratty,” Drift said. He smiled brightly despite recharge catching on the edges of his optics, slowly and softly consuming.

Ratchet rolled his eyes and let the other nuzzle up underneath his chin and curl up into his strong arms. While it took him forever to relax in another's presence, it comes far too easily now, almost as if his very frame was built to be held by Ratchet.

Ratchet kissed Drift’s forehelm gently. “Night, Drift,” he murmured.

Much like the nights before and the many to follow, there they recharged in each other's arms, soft and warm, under that golden, caramelized, fading sun.

[stormyoceans]

Now that you've seen Vice Versa in it's entirety (multiple times), what's your favourite PuenTalay moment? Feel free to make a list if you can't choose just one ;)

FDKSGFKDGSFKJ GLAD YOU ALREADY GAVE ME THE OPTION FOR A BULLET POINT LIST BECAUSE THERE’S LITERALLY NO WAY I COULD EVER PICK ONLY ONE MOMENT i can give you a top 10 in cronological order and even that is gonna cost me blood sweat tears and whatever’s left of my sanity…. which admittedly is not a lot so HERE WE GO!!!!!

1. bathroom meeting in episode 1. truly the moment the blueprint the alpha and the omega the beginning and the end the genesis the impetus the single most scene of all time. talay is standing there with pee hands telling this famous actor he just met that he has a big head and puen is just giggling twirling his hair kicking his feet going ‘oh my god stoppp you’re soooo cute!!!!’ IM EMBARRASSED FOR BOTH OF THEM BUT MOST OF ALL FOR MYSELF FOR LOSING MY SANITY OVER THESE CLOWNS

2. NIVEA BATHTUB SCENE IN EPISODE 3 MY BELOVED. somehow this isn’t one of the most replayed parts of the episode and i have beef with people because of it. like yes, it’s a product placement. yes, it’s cheesy as hell. STILL!!!!!!! y’all are really telling me you DON’T need to be forcibly escorted into a padded room every time you hear puen say “if this can be used to wipe away dust, i should use it with your heart. i think your heart hasn’t been used in a long time”???????????? WISH THAT COULD BE ME i see puen using the cotton pad on talay’s chest and suddenly there’s an entire mental health crisis intervention team in my room pulling out the elephant tranquilizers to keep me sedated

3. bed scene at the end of episode 6. this scene knocks me flat on my ass every single time i look at it. it’s about the vulnerability and comfort of it all!!!!!! the way it parallels the scene in episode 4 in tun’s apartment where puen tells talay “one day, if there’s a problem or fear, you can tell me”!!!!!!! and talay does!!!!!!! and puen is there for him no questions asked!!!!!!! and then they’re holding on to each other and spooning and cuddling while my last half functioning braincell is holding on for dear life grip slipping fast and these fuckers haven't even confessed yet!!!!!! ep 6 was really the moment i started breaking apart at the seams and it shows

4. GREYLLERY CONFESSION IN EPISODE 8. LITERALLY NO WORDS JUST SCREAMING SHAKING CRYING THROWING UP SPINNING COUNTERCLOCKWISE ON THE FLOOR WAILING. look i know im biased but if you don't think this is one of the best confession scenes in the history of television you're just lying to yourself. the fact that it happens when the lights are out to emphasize that their feelings aren't about the bodies they inhabit but about who they are????? talay cupping puen's face as if he's holding the most precious thing in the world in his hands????? puen being so overwhelmed with emotions he needs to grab talay's wrist to ground himself????? THE KISS PARALLELING THE ONE IN EP 4????? the tear falling down puen's cheek and the ear graze and the hand at the small of talay's back just enveloping him completely?????? I NEED THE HEAT DEATH OF THE UNIVERSE TO TAKE ME NOW

5. the entire beach reconciliation in episode 9. i feel like this moment is a bit underrated and yet if someone asked me to pick a scene that perfectly sums up the puentalay dynamic i think this is the one i’d go for, because it really shows the one thing that sets them apart from all the other pairings to me, which is the willingness they have to make things better and try to understand each other. any argument they have never lasts too long because they love and need and care about each other so much that they’re always ready to set aside their pride and come together to work things out. im not even kidding when i say they’re the kings of communication!!!!! i also think that we as a fandom should talk more about puen calling talay’s name being enough to stop talay from having a panic attack and puen not knowing that talay drowned but still understanding that something was wrong. THE ROMANCE THE CONNECTION THE LOVE

6. THE HAT SCENE IN EPISODE 9 AKA THE SINGLE MOST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME. i know i say that a lot but THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN THAT WOULD BE MORE THAN THIS. like do you get chills every time you rewatch this scene or are you normal!!!!!!! i swear puen's face alone is enough to have me committed to the psych ward, especially the moment right after talay admits he is falling for him. i simply wanna know what the directions for jimmy were here.... look awestruck to the point of reverence?????? look undone overcome and made whole again in the span of 2.8 seconds??????? he is giving adoration tenderness wonderment devotion love and im giving rabid animal frothing at the mouth clawing at the walls of her enclosure

7. NOM NOM SCENE IN EPISODE 10. head in hands about to partake in fits of female hysteria any time i remember this scene was improvised. i honestly don’t know what to do with that knowledge. this is the one scene we were all looking forward to since the trailer dropped, what made me think ‘oh, maybe these two will actually be good together’, my most favorite thing about puentalay (along with how good they are at communication) which is the playful nature of their relationship and the genuine fun they seem to have with each other.... and it’s all because of jimmy and sea. when your lead actors are so comfortable with each other they spontaneously come up with THEE most boyfriend thing i’ve ever seen!!!!!! we do not engage in parasocial relationships in this house but i owe them my life

8. THEE Reunion™ in episode 11. i genuinely can't have more than surface level thoughts about this scene or else i'll actually go insane and not like quirky funny insane, but like isabelle adjani in the tunnel scene from possession insane. there are just not enough words to properly convey the sheer incomprehensible immensity of everything happening here. the heartache the longing the realization the relief the comfort the tenderness the understanding the joy the love. truly changed the trajectory of my life my outlook my values the very foundations of my personhood i will never be the same

9. kitchen scene at the beginning of episode 12. yet another scene i can't think about for too long otherwise i start dying from multiple organ failure. i've never seen two people be more domestic in love and enamored with each other in my entire life like THE BACK HUG????? “WHATEVER COMES FROM YOU IS SO GOOD”????? PUEN’S HANDS ON TALAY’S WAIST????? TALAY CUPPING PUEN’S FACE LIKE HE DID IN THE GREYLLERY CONFESSION????? “I THANK YOU TOO FOR BEING BORN SO THAT I COULD LOVE YOU”????? FOUR KISSES IN A SINGLE SCENE????? this is how the rest of their lives is gonna look like and im honestly too mentally unwell to process any of it

10. ending scene in episode 12. PEOPLE DIED BECAUSE OF THIS SCENE!!!!!!! it’s me. im people. and i swear it’s not just because of horny puen, but because it’s seriously the most perfect ending they could have ever given them. the two of them fixing the RV together parallels the scene in ep 6 where they did the same in the alternate universe, and they actually gave us a visual representation of their journey and of how much their relationship has grown through the pink trumpet tree: what was once a small potted plant is now a 25-meter-tall tree with strong roots that won’t ever be moved, just like their love. they painted each other’s life pink forever and i will be on my death bed surrounded by nurses and my last words will be i would die for puentalay and then i will die for real!!!!!!!!!!!  

[CURRENTLY THROWING UP BLOOD BECAUSE I HAD TO LEAVE OUT SO MANY MOMENTS like the pinky promise and helmet scene in ep 3????? everything in ep 4????? the snow scene in ep 5????? the 12.960 minutes/777.600 seconds scene in ep 6????? the reconciliation in ep 7????? everything else in ep 8????? the “we got to see the same moon” and the river bank scenes in ep 12????? IMAGINE WINNING SO MUCH THAT A TOP 10 ISN’T NEARLY ENOUGH]

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 30: Tears of Pain and Tears of Joy

He was free.

Sort of.

It had been a year of hell, both literally and figuratively. A year of wanting to do what he wanted. A year of trying to get home. A year of dreaming of his loved ones. A year of regrets and misgivings and yearnings.

And disappointments.

Zelena still lived. The dagger wasn't in his possession, but, remarkably, he trusted that it would be soon enough. And he didn't give a flying fuck what Regina thought, that witch was right. She was going to die by his hands at his first opportunity.

But for now, he retreated. It was his own choice where to go, and he knew right where he wanted to be. Not at home. Not his car. He wanted to be back at his shop.

The magic that the Fairies put over it to protect Belle kept him from entering at first, but with a wave of his hand, he tore that spell apart and stepped inside.

The little bell rang out a joyful greeting of "welcome home" that he never thought he'd take for granted again. Part of him expected Belle to be there. Evidence of her was everywhere. For once the shop was clean, someone had taken every bit of dust from every nook and cranny and banished it elsewhere. It smelled of her. Her scent of lemons and roses was just as woven into the fabric of it now as his own was. And the back room…the back room was a mess. The cot was made but mussed from someone sleeping in it. One whiff told him exactly who that had been, confirming his suspicions from his outing for Hook. His black bag was on the table. One look and he knew various potions that he kept on hand as extras were missing. There were other things that lay out on the table, a few ingredients as well as bowls and a pestle and mortar that still had residue in it from something recent. And there were books that lay out on the tables in piles almost as tall as him, small paper markers stuck out between the pages. He grabbed one from the top and opened it to the marked section…it was about time travel.

At that realization, he lost his hold on reality.

Suddenly he was glad Belle wasn't here. He was glad he was alone in a place like this, glad that he could take a few minutes and let himself fall apart the way he needed to.

He wept. Harder and longer than the day he'd been told Bae had died at the hands of Tamara. His body carried him to the cot where he could let his legs go out from under him, and he could hold the pillow Belle had been using close, squeeze it, and let every emotion he had been suppressing out of sheer survival come pouring and tumbling and blubbering out of him.

He wept. And he wailed. And he let sorrow claim him as the Dark Ones silenced, and he reveled in all that was lost since the time that he'd last been in this shop.

He wept until his stomach hurt. Until his eyes burned. He wept until his body shook, and he needed air. He wept until there was nothing left.

And then he took a breath. And then another. And then another.

It hurt to breathe. Every beat of his heart felt like a betrayal. The part of his heart that contained his grief seared with every second that he lived and his boy did not.

This was the hard part.

He hadn't expected that.

In the last year, he'd faced challenge after challenge. He'd been trapped in the depths of hell and outrun Hades himself. He'd been separated from his family. He'd nearly ripped the foundations of magic apart at the seams. He'd been held captive against his will and made to do terrible things with his mind and his magic and his body. He'd danced on a piano wire to survive it. He'd been driven to madness, sharing a brain with his son and then given all his memories over to the woman who killed him.

But this…this was the hardest part. Living when his son did not. Going on when his son could not. Taking step after step knowing his son never would.

This was the hard part.

But dying for him, a Dark One, was not an option. Running away to be a hobbit somewhere was not what Bae would have wanted. He might not know the mind of his son for certain anymore, but the impression that his memories left behind told him that it wasn't right. To choose not to live when Bae had been denied the option…that was a terrible choice to make.

One breath. Then another, he pushed himself up off the bed, choking back the pain and tears that threatened him as he did. He felt light and off balance. But then he took a step. And then another. He measured his breaths as he moved about the back room, running his fingers over the table and bits and bobs he encountered there just to give himself another sensation to focus on. Then he moved out to the front room because he needed a break.

He wandered. And he let his mind wander as he did. He was only just beginning to consider going to the hospital to look for a familiar face and escape the seclusion when the bell behind him chimed. After the last year, the noise alone had him on alert, and he whipped his head up to look into the mirror, afraid of what he might see…

He was almost embarrassed to admit how long it took him to register the smiling face he saw reflected in the mirror as Belle.

A second later, he'd turned around, half expecting her to be a hallucination, but the second he realized she was still there, he moved to her, his body still drawn to hers even if his mind felt unworthy. He'd barely taken four steps as she ran across the room, set her bags down, and then threw herself into his arms. Or maybe, given how tight he was holding her back, he'd thrown himself into her arms. He didn't care which it was. All he cared about was that she felt real, and whole, and just as loving as she'd felt before all this madness had happened. He had so many questions about the last year. There was so much he wanted to know, but for now, he was just content to be in her arms, take in her scent, and have someone there to watch his back as he looked after hers.

"I knew you'd be back," she whispered in his ear as she ran her fingers through hair he suddenly wished he'd washed.

He had to fight back a snort of laughter at her words. Not because of disbelief or humor, but simply because it was either laugh or sob at the understanding.

Of course, she'd believed he'd be back. She always believed in him.

"Your unfailing faith…constantly astounds me…" he breathed.

After all this, he was certain that any other woman would have run as far away from him as fast as their legs could carry them. But not her. Not his Belle. No, she'd stand and face down a Wicked Witch threatening to kill her even after…after…

"And after everything I did…" he marveled.

"It wasn't you," she insisted. "It was…it was Zelena."

He wanted to weep again in gratitude that she saw it. But memories he couldn't spin away clawed to the surface. How good it felt to throw Hook into the trunk of that car. The way he'd schemed Orpheus' way out of the Underworld to deliver a hat to Jefferson because he hadn't been there for him. How he'd chosen who would die and who would live at Zelena's command. After he'd let Neal down. After he'd raged at her after the first time she'd kissed him…

"It wasn't always Zelena," he admitted, wishing desperately he could toss every bad decision he'd ever made off on her, but knowing that he couldn't. "I will never comprehend why you continue to stand by my side."

"I love you," she insisted without a moment of hesitation. "Always have…"

Always will…

Emotion swelled inside of him. The Dark Ones were issuing their warnings as they sensed something inside of him shift. He ignored them as he recognized it.

Now. The time was now.

It hadn't been perfect a year ago when he'd wanted to ask her, and it wasn't perfect now, but he'd be damned if he was going wait another year and let anything else happen to threaten-

Before he could get down on one knee, Belle glanced away and to her bag. Something was bothering her. Something he hadn't seen before now. But before he could ask what the problem was, she moved to her bag and pulled out…

The dagger.

The Dark Ones held their breath as she held it, as he did his assessments, looking for signs that it was a fake. It wasn't. It felt just as it always had. He was surprised he hadn't felt it when Belle initially walked into the shop, but now…he couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"How did you get that?" he asked, his voice suddenly hard to find.

"Regina gave it to me," she answered. "To…'to make amends.'"

That bitch. She'd promised she'd give it back to him!

"But also, because she knew I wouldn't abuse its power."

No, she wouldn't. Clever little hero. A heart like Belle's was the surest way to clear her conscious and make sure that sister of hers never had to fear him again.

"I want you to have it," Belle stated, unexpectedly thrusting it out to him.

The Dark Ones' interest piqued in his head suddenly, in shock and awe at what was being offered to them. It wasn't just freedom…it was revenge.

For the same reason it piqued their interest, it left him utterly confused as he stared down at it.

"Why?" he questioned, even as every single Dark One screamed in his head to shut up and take the damn thing already.

"Because I believe in you," she answered sweetly. Innocently. Unsuspecting.

For that reason alone, he almost didn't want to take it. He knew the second he got his hands on it, Zelena was dead. It was the one thing that he knew she'd trust him not to do! But he didn't think he could live with himself as long as she lived. But…

"It's yours," Belle urged. "You're a-you're a free man! Just promise me one thing…promise me you won't go after Zelena, you're…you know you're better than that."

Was he? Because he didn't think he was. And with a chance like this…

It's the promise of a silly girl, Rumpelstiltskin! Not a command! Take the dagger…there are so many loopholes around this deal it's almost too easy, Nimue hissed in his ear.

A way around the deal. A loophole. One to settle his mind and bloodlust and then…no more. Just this last time, and he'd be done. He and Belle could start a life together. An honest life with a good marriage. That was what he wanted. And with this dagger, he knew exactly how he could get all of it.

"Oh, Belle," she sighed as he grabbed it up out of her hands and looked down at it. He turned it over and over, his magic tracing it, mapping it perfectly. "What you are giving me is more than I could ever give you," he whispered. "But I will try."

He raised his gaze to meet her eyes, to make sure they were on his. With that distraction secure, he made the switch. His dagger, he stashed it in the back room as his magic quickly worked up a copy in his hands. He'd make it right. He'd make it all right in the end. It was just this last time. It had to be, because after tonight, he intended to never think again about Zelena or anything that lay before. Only what lay ahead…

What was that tradition from her village?

"This…this is trust," he stated, suddenly feeling like there was a frog sitting in his throat waiting to steal his words.

In her country, for a promise of an exchange of vows, a ring was not presented, but rather a symbol was presented to one's intended. This was a proper symbol indeed. And, with any luck, one that would solve a potential host of problems.

"It means you trust me with all your heart."

She nodded, her smile stretching ear to ear in a cozy sort of way that told him she hadn't yet caught on to what he was doing. "I do," she answered perfectly.

Perfectly.

"And I shall trust you with mine…"

An exchange of a symbol…

"Take it…" he insisted, holding it out before her, trying to remember the words a suitor would have said, words he was sure she'd recognize…

"I am now, and for all the future…yours."

He'd gotten them right. He knew he'd recalled them correctly the moment her eyes went wide and her breath hitched. She looked down at the dagger with shock and back at him in recognition...and doubt.

"Wait…what…" her smile vanished as her eyes fluttered. There was a suspicious twinkle in her eyes. Her heart was racing. "What are you saying?"

Only the thing he'd been dying to say for over a year now…

"Will you marry me?"

For a moment, he honestly wasn't sure if he'd spoken the words out loud or if he'd simply imagined them. The look of skepticism clung to her face like a child clung to its mother. But finally, the small smile on her face broke its bonds and stretched into a grin that was brighter than the sun itself.

"Yes," she smiled with a nod. "Yes!" She took the dagger away from him, but he was overjoyed to see her cast it quickly aside, back to her bag, away from them both before she repeated a happy "yes" one more time and then shot into his arms.

She kissed him, and he welcomed the embrace, returning her affection with every bit of the vigor that he'd wanted to for the last year of watching her. And when they broke apart, and they were content to go back to simply holding one another without any sense of who started it, he felt his pain mingle with the joy in his chest.

He was going to marry the woman of his dreams.

And his son was dead.

Yes…moving forward would always be the hardest part.

[rove-bogge]

🌌 If your OC has a nightmare, what’s it most likely about?

Content Warning: Some body horror imagery used. It starts with a noise of thread ripping. Collapsing and treading at the seams with horrible pops that make his heart tremble. Slow and agonising like someone pulling bits of skin from his bones with small hooks as he is pulled apart at his literal seams revealing squirming and hissing insects at his core. Falling out like blobs of meat that squirm and writhe on the ground screaming piercing his skull as he feels himself crumbling apart.

Insect drying out once exposed to the air as they wither away into dust and sludge on the floor. His chest tight as he feels like he can't breathe anymore no longer able to grasp anything as his skin flops away like rejected burlap burst open and useless unable to hold his insides in anymore...those insides that are rapidly crawling and writhing trying to avoid the suffocating fate that awaits them as they hit the ground in wet slaps.

The last one is able to hold its breath as it scurries frantically looking for some faint hope of survival. It's dizzying as it squeaks and cries trying to escape from the light and noise. It's so close to getting out of this dangerous place with a background drumming noise he hates so much. Escape is close if his little legs can scurry fast enough.

CRUNCH!

As the boot slams down on him Rove jolts awake, pounding an ache in his chest as he feels like he might drop dead any second as he gulps air like water into his lungs, sweat dripping from his skin setting a tremble down his spine. Lips quivering as dry sobs mix with retching combines a mixture of cries and a sickening feeling stuck in his throat.

Rove doesn't have normal nightmares like most people his age. He doesn't not fear monsters under his bed with teeth ground sharp, snake-like fingers and spider hair... He dreams of words turned truths that scar deep under his skin. His nightmares feel like death an inevitable fate perhaps. Maybe a metaphoric prediction.... one each magic user should fear and head caution of...

Magic will eventually eat them if they are not cautious and for some it is only a matter of when not if...

[sweettodo]

a simple competition.

⟿ Hisoka Morow x freader x Chrollo Lucilfer

Includes : threesome, toys, smut, not even a good plot but yk, consumption of alcohol

word count : 2,7k.

my last little surprise for you guys, some more threesum action .... here you go puppies. THX FOR 300 [ almost 400 rn :) ] <3 !!! your favorite men at your disposal... [y/n is aged].

fun fact, I'm eating takis rn, are these spicier than usual or am I imagining things ? i’m also watching ‘malcolm and marie’ AMAZING movie, i highly suggest it, the dynamic of the two is so detailed, such a good movie.

••

Maybe it wasn't a clever idea to drink, but once you attained that nice and warm sensation in your gut, there was certainly nothing stopping you from finishing the already half-empty bottle of pink whitney.

Laying sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling as the room slowly spins around you. Content and relaxed with your position.

It wasn't your fault, Pakudona reassuring you that it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun tonight, that Chrollo wouldn't heed if you crashed here for the night, he was tipsy, manspreading on the other end of the couch, eyes puffy and glossed over, enjoying the quiet.

Music was playing thirty minutes previously, but as the night went on, one by one, the others hit the road to sleep off their intoxication, it was already past midnight.

One person had yet to leave, that was Hisoka... of course.

He wandered back into the living room, plopping down next to you and your friend on the couch, "leaving anytime soon? Y/n?"

You shook your head, "staying the night." Hisoka's arched eyebrows rise, a little smile tugging at the niche of his mouth.

"Is that so?" Chrollo sits up, staring at the kaleidoscopic man, a sarcastic undergone on his tongue.

"That's what happens when you drive here, and drink" You nod, "although I didn't quite intend on you staying the night, Morow." He hums, Hisoka pinches the corner of the thin card, waving it back and forth teasingly.

"I can't let you have our playmate all to yourself," you roll your eyes.

"It's not like that," you mutter, staring the magician in the eyes, "I couldn't leave if I wanted to."

"That is true," Chrollo interjects, "that doesn't mean you want to leave though, is it?" you shrug.

"No, I wanna stay, got an issue with that?" you ask, he shakes his head.

"Of course not- although, I suppose Hisoka would be better off on his way."

You estimated things would only get progressively worse from here, the moment Hisoka's bloodlust began to fill the air, you felt this was your cue; before you're able to leave the room, Hisoka's hand is fastened around your wrist, sitting you back down.

"Oh, you can't flee now," dread fills your face, "come on, we might as well finish the conversation."

You and Chrollo both knew what he was talking about. No matter how petty or pathetic, it appears to be that the rivalry between the two never seemed to subside, even drunk.

"Go on, since you have so much to say."

"Am I wrong for thinking my friend is a pretty girl? I seem to remind her more than you do."

"You seem to think you own her, it's pitiful honestly, " Blushing, you look down at your thighs, "do you think she's pretty, Chrollo?"

"I do. I think she knows that right?" you peek up at him, he gleams and tilts his head.

"Look at her, my, you must like us flattering you." You shake your head.

"That's because you neglect to tell her more often, does Chrollo ever call you pretty?" with Hisoka pushing Chrollo's every button, tensions were surging, both men now at the edge of their seats- literally.

"No, he doesn't," you speak, the magician letting out a deep chuckle, you felt like you were being scrutinized, the eyes burning into you felt poisonous and dour, you felt minuscule compared to them.

"I could do so much better than call you pretty, right kitten?" your heart sinks to your stomach, gulping hard. It was too hard to look at them in the eyes as you sunk further into the couch.

"Are we making you nervous?"

The inquiry continues.

"Yeah- you are." You retort, "you guys are talking about me like I'm not here."

"Then let's ask the lady herself, y/n." Looking up to meet Hisoka's gaze, "who do you think could take better care of you?"

Heart pounding out of your chest, your stomach filled with butterflies, "I- I don't know, I've never thought about it." Laughing, you look to see Chrollo, who's standing to his feet.

"I think I know a way to help you decide," smug smile peeking from his face, "unless you don't want to?"

A single nod is all they needed to know, Hisoka standing to his feet, seeing how you sat on the couch as still as a statue, "please don't be so tense, you know how good we are to you." Hisoka slowly picks up your hand.

He's steering you to your feet, "what do you have in mind, Chrollo?" the man leading you two upstairs.

"I think I have something that'll work out for all of us."

The dress you wore to this get-together now seemed like you were exposed, bare, and vulnerable, you knew what their agenda was, you didn't fancy the idea of being the center of attention.

Chrollo slowly clicking open his door, walking in, and promptly turning on the light, you're led to the side of his king-sized bed, his room was both contemporary and warm, comforting feeling; the walls a deep vermilion, the sheets plush, soft and black tones.

"We should leave it up to our little kitten to decide," the buttons on his shirt slowly coming undone, stopping at his sternum.

"What do you think, Morow?" Hisoka looks at you with low eyes.

"I'll go first."

Chrollo stalks towards you, sitting there falling apart at the seams, Chrollo's large and reaching behind your ear, thumb gently caressing your jawline, side to side, "you okay with this? Sweetheart?" you nod, the name sending jolts between your thighs.

Hisoka's rubbing your bare leg, sitting next to you on the mattress as his fingertips trail up and down, his hand stopping inside your thigh and pressing a leg open, Chrollo clasping your other knee and you lay on your back

"I'll get some time to please you, Hisoka gets the same when I'm done, yes?"

You're breathless, Hisoka grabbing you and pressing your back against him, his hands pinching the seams of your dress, "cute little dress- you should wear it more often for me." He hums, rolling it up, your thighs buckled together while lifting your back off the mattress, the dress sitting bunched up at your hips, the panties you wore sitting on your hips.

"My, who knew she would wear something so- revealing." Arms linking around your own, Hisoka keeps you completely locked in place.

"Did you wear these for me? Kitten?" Chrollo asks, shaking your head no.

Tugging at the little strong which hardly kept you covered, “I'll keep these, yeah?” you nod, the pants of Chrollo’s fingers barely ticking you, brushing against your already anxious body.

"Stay still for me, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe.

Hand leaning over past Hisoka, he's opening up the drawer beside his bed.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the little pink toy, compact in nothing bugger than four inches long, he sits on the bed in front of you, bringing the little object to your core.

He switches it on the lowest setting, the only noise in the room was the quiet buzzing of the vibrator as he barely touches your clit, the tiniest contact with the toy having your chest rise and fall, "keep these open for me, okay princess?" his fingers hook below your panties, pulling them down and placing them beside him.

"Such a pretty pussy, don't you think, Hisoka?" You're gnawing on your bottom lip from the teasing little touches with the toy, he was doing this on purpose; your legs laid open, the other man holding your arms to where you couldn't do anything if you wanted to.

"It is, I'm sure it's even prettier when it's cumming,"

Chrollo finally presses the vibrator onto your clit, he leans over your cunt, spitting, your mouth opens, the saliva hardly cooling your excited cunt.

He uses his free hand to finish unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the floor, he leans down leveled to your cunt, holding your leg over his broad and muscular shoulder, his tongue licking a stripe towards your occupied clit. Your body shakes, digging further into Hisoka's chest, he holds you tighter.

"Fuck, p-please!" you gasp, wanting to dig your hands into his hair, thrashing against Hisoka's arms, "let me touch-" your pleads fall on deaf ears, Chrollo’s tongue swirling into you in sinful ways, your legs twitching, the toy too much to handle.

The euphoric feeling of the overstimulation sending a pool of cream right onto Chrollo's tongue, lapping up every drop of you.

You were dizzy, Chrollo drinking up all of your essences, his hand pressed into your thigh to keep you from buckling onto him, your back grinding against the pressure of Hisoka's growing erection, his hands had grabbed the straps of your dress, one by one pulling them down and releasing your tits from the braless dress.

It's almost too good to be true- the man spending a dangerous amount of time eating your pussy like it was his very last meal, tasting everything he possibly could, the vibrator maintaining its spot in little circles around your swollen and screaming clit.

Ripping orgasm after orgasm out of your body, you're dripping sweat, he pulls off of you, your cum covering his reddish swollen lips, chin soaked. You looked a wreck, makeup streaming down your face, legs numb, his head coming to yours, he kisses your panting lips, releasing you from Hisoka.

The taste of your cum filling your mouth, his tongue licking past your bottom lip and into your mouth.

"Take this off." tearing at your dress, peeling it over your head, unzipping his pants, "you're gonna straddle me and stay still, is that okay with you, kitty?"

"O-okay, what about Hisoka?" Grabbing your hips, you straddle him. He raises you a little.

"He's gonna watch me make you cum a few more times-" hissing in the air as he assists you to slide down onto his cock, the stretch was unbearable, but you push through, trying not to slouch over in pain.

"-hurts, bad!" You sob.

"You take me so well, it'll only hurt for a second, promise."

His hand's move, one to your waist and one loosely around your throat as he holds you up to get a better grip on your already weakened body.

Keeping eye contact with Hisoka as your body is demolished by the man beneath you, eyes boring into you seductively, captivated by your mess of a face.

You felt as if you were being torn in half, crying out his name as he knew just how to fuck you; fucking your pussy just right.

Fucking you so hard you were going numb.

"Gonna cum! Gonna cum again!" you screamed, head falling back as you searched desperately for air, Chrollo rolling his hips into you as he released you, slumping to his chest, his chest stick from sweat.

"You wanna be filled with my seed, kitty?" Nodding in his shoulder.

"Please fill me- I want your cum,"

The feeling of his cum seeping down his cock and deep into your beaten-up cunt, his breath heavy against your ear.

You sit up, large arms wrapping from behind you and pulling you off of your straddle, Chrollo getting off the bed to clean himself off as Hisoka sits you on the bed, tucking your hair behind your ear gently, smiling as you look up at him, blurred eyes.

"My my, I don't think she can handle it, or can you?"

"I-I can, trust me." He smiles, pleased with your answer, his soft hands taking up your arm before leaning you back, onto your back, he was sweaty, so his shirt was clinging to his body, his hair was messily draped over his shoulders, pulling his tie loose while standing between your open legs, "let me see your wrists, princess."

He's leading you against the bed frame, linking your hands together and finishing off the knot around the post of the frame, the man getting on his knees between your legs, letting his shirt hand open as his hands work at his slacks, unbuckling the leather belt and tossing it to the side, "you look so innocent, tied up and quiet as a mouse, even after you just got fucked out," he pushes down his pants, erection throbbing from underneath his underwear.

The area between your legs throb, he was beyond ready to feel your walls tighten around him, he was ready to hear you begging for more.

He needed to one-up Chrollo.

He lifts your hips, your legs propped against his thighs while remaining restrained, his tip aiming into you accordingly before pushing into your beaten cunt.

His arm propped, flexing as he grips the headboard, drilling into your cunt with no tenderness, he spares you no pain as he ruts into you, ready to split you in half the instant he saw you spilling cum at the hands of his rival.

The size of him left you perplexed, the way he was splitting you open while bringing you to an indescribable state of heaven had you a sloppy mess, the thick cock he had with his veins filling in the little nerves you had yet to feel seconds earlier. He filled you, and he filled you well.

Hisoka fucks you until your head is blank, eyes seeing white, one of his hands gripping your hip, keeping you from laying fully on your back.

You try to cry put to him, and he notices.

He slows only slightly, rolling his hips back and forth into you so you can speak, "s-so good, it feels so good!"

Each rut of his hips sends you into oblivion, the way his hips bumped and clashed against your body left you spitting out a mantra of his name, Chrollo inches away from you, rolling your perked nipple in between his fingers, sending chills up your body.

Hisoka brings his eyes to you, "joining in, my friend?" Chrollo pulls his hand back, you almost find yourself whining.

“Did I fuck you better, y/n?” Chrollo taunts, his lips barely pressing against the life of your ear, “is Hisoka making you feel good?” Hisoka's beautiful golden eyes stalk you, waiting for your answer; stabbing right into your soul.

“Answer him, go on, kitten; did he fill you as good as I am?”

The questions were throwing you in for a loop, your stomach twisted, digging your head back deeper into the pillow of Chrollo’s bed.

“Fill me, please- daddy.” You cry, you longed to touch him, to feel his soft hair as he pummeled into you; you tugged on your wrists softly, already weak, the tied limbs going numb and tingling.

Before you know it, another orgasm is torn out of you; groaning out as you tightened and clenching around him, body once again convulsing, legs tightening around Hisoka’s waist. Each time they made you cum, the more came spilling from your cunt, it was almost unreal how much the bed was soaked, how soaked your thighs were, Hisoka’s pants being stained in the process.

This pretty little soaked pussy, sucking me in so good.” Panting, his head falls back, his dick quaver’s while his thrusts become more staggered, hand gripping tighter around your already sore hip.

His seed bathes both you and his cock, hips sputtering as he slowly slips out of your abused cunt. your head spinning, a panting mess at you blink and stare at the ceiling.

You could barely move, the men in the room throwing on clothes, hearing zippers, you lift your head.

Chrollo hands you a blanket, draping it over your body.

Sitting up, the blanket around you, you look at the two men who were fiddling around doing nothing but looming around the room.

While Hisoka buttons up his shirt, he tilts his head towards you, “tired, princess?” you nod.

A devious smirk dances on your lips, they look at you confused, “perhaps though, I might need another round, you know- to decide who was better.”

[moonlight-prose]

Could we please see a reuniting hug with sam Wilson either after being on the run or after the snap?

(gif by @theavengers from this incredible set!)

Finally

a/n: when i say that this is one of my favorites, because i'm a whore for reuniting fics. literally give me that sweet sweet goodness.

prompt list: [ REUNITE ] - having been apart for some time, sender, upon seeing receiver for the first time, sprints to give them a hug. (be emo w this okay PLS–)

word count: 803

pairing: sam wilson x reader

warnings: angst, fluff

They had gathered the injured at the base. People practically poured out of the building until it was bursting at the seams. Avengers gone for years - finally reuniting with their families - and people who had been waiting. For five years they waited. Hoping for the arrival of their loved ones to come home; to stay permanently after the tragedy that befell the world.

You sprinted through the building, seeing injured people getting treated, doctors and nurses hovering around as they tried to tend to the wounded as best they could. Except you weren’t there from battle. You were there from your apartment.

After standing in the middle of your living room, television on and showing destruction unlike any other, you began to see something you’d never thought you’d see again. Missing people. Coming back to life. New York was a mess; people showing up where they had vanished from, leaving you to try and figure a way out and back to the Avengers tower. Back to him, because he was alive.

Had to be alive.

“Can I help you?” a nurse asked, his hands covered in what looked like blood, only it was a different color.

Shaking your head you glanced around the filled room, trying to see a way through, because you had to see him. Had to touch him. Know for certain that he was alive, that he had returned home to you.

“Are you here for someone?”

“Yes - I saw that they - I’m here for Sam Wilson.”

Nodding he began to walk away, in search of a man who was well known around here. Someone who had fought with as much might as he possibly could, making people question if this fight meant more for him. If he was fighting to go back to someone. He was. He had been yearning to find you, to see what had become of you within the last five years. If you still...if you still loved him.

You heard him before you saw him. His voice shouting over the crowd’s noise, your name echoing back to you. He had gone searching for you the second the nurse told him someone was here to see him. In actuality he expected Sarah to be that someone. That she’d come to pick him up, but then he heard your name. Heard that you were waiting, and he was already sprinting out the door. Ignoring the pain that shot through his side from the wound he received.

“Sam!” you shouted, pushing past people until you nearly landed into an open place on the floor. “Sam!” He had to hear you; had to find his way through, and you could feel the sharp sting of tears that built up in your eyes.

Because what if it wasn’t actually him. What if you were simply hearing things?

That is until you saw him. Frantically searching the area until his eyes landed on you, relief washing over his face as he finally saw you. Finally felt his heart settle back into place, because you were here. You had come here for him. Without a second thought you began to sprint in his direction, not caring that your bag had fallen on the floor, or that you were crying and probably looked like a mess.

None of it mattered. Not when he was there, looking at you like you were his whole world.

“Sam,” you sobbed out, colliding with him and feeling his arms tightly hold you in place. His face burying into your neck as he breathed in the smell of you. As he finally came home completely.

“I’m alive. I’m here baby,” he whispered, feeling your tears hit the skin of his neck, your body shaking with what you hoped was nerves.

You pulled away, cupping his face to see his own tears fall, to see the smile that you had missed so dearly. “Five years. I thought you weren’t - that they couldn’t -”

“They figured it out,” he replied, thumbs wiping at your eyes. “Sorry I took so long.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, quickly turning into a sob. “It’s okay. You’re here now.”

Dragging you closer he kissed you and it set things right again. Set your heart back into place and pushed air into your lungs for the first time in five years. Because he was home, he was kissing you. Clutching him closer you returned his kiss until you couldn’t breathe, until your chest hurt from it, but the pain was tangible. It let you know that this wasn’t imaginary.

Let you know that he stood before you, as real as he was five years ago.