#like thank you for enjoying my writing

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Feelings Thawed

Character; Cater Diamond

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.

“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.

Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 

He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.

You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.

He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.

Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”

Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”

You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”

Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.

“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 

The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”

Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 

It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[themeraldee]

Awkward sex prompt: homelander figuring out how to control his strength with a human reader, who still wants rough sex, but would prefer to be alive at the end of it.

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 1.2k | Homelander x gn!Reader | Realistic sex. Communicating during sex. Choking. Penetration (but not specified). Fluff at the end.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“But I want you to.” 

It really should have been no surprise to Homelander when you requested he goes a little rougher on you in bed. At first he was taken aback, stopping the pace he was fucking into you with, jerking his head back as if offended, choking on his breath in surprise. You know who he is, bringing up the use of his strength is no small ask. But you’ve shown the signs before. He could hear the spike in your heart rate anytime he’d showcase the incomprehensible strength he possesses. Whether it was him moving heavy objects, accidentally bending steel frames in his penthouse or breaking furniture—like that one time he ripped the headboard off during a particularly fine blowjob—you loved it. Though he never thought that your dirty little thoughts went straight to him using that strength on you. 

“What if I can’t hold back?” He looks down where you’re right below him, all flushed and spread out for him. He’s been giving you a damn good time but it’s like you can never get enough of him. Always wanting more, more, more.

“You can. You’ve been doing it your entire life. Adding a tiny bit more pressure isn’t gonna change anything.”

The one thing Homelander loves about you the most is the pure trust you have in him. After all you’ve seen of him you still believe that there’s no world in which he would purposefully hurt you. So to hear you all but beg for him to use strength that has more than decimated many gets his heart soaring. The feeling of acceptance and unconditional love blooms warm in his chest spreading all the way out to the fingertips currently wrapped around your neck.

“Come on, what’s the point of being the strongest man in the world if you can’t rough me up a bit? I’ll tell you if it’s too painful okay?”

Your hand sat on top, your fingers tracing over his as you squeezed your hand.

“A little more.” You guide him verbally and manually. Your hand is still squeezing around his own until you reach a point where you’re satisfied with his confidence to do this himself and you pull your hand away. “Yeah, that’s it.” You squeak out a little breathlessly as he restricts your airflow.

“That’s good?” He asks, choking on his words halfway at the way you squeeze around him while he’s still lodged firmly inside you. He jerks with his movement, giving you a very short snappy thrust but after your little intermission where you taught him how to choke even this little sensation made you moan.

Homelander’s eyes widen when he realizes the sheer potential of your request. Not only could he hear your heartbeat, your shaky breaths and moans, he could now also feel them. Right against his fingertips. The moan vibrated against his hot skin, your heartbeat constantly thrumming all around him. He felt it in the way you were tight and clenching around him and now he felt it under his grip.

He released his hand a little, settling the palm of it in between your collarbones.

“See? Wasn’t that good? I love feeling your strength, let me have a little more of it.” You say it with such conviction, inviting him in, accepting him exactly—no, especially—because of the way he is.

The last thing Homelander wants is to not be able to fulfill your needs. As much as the thought of hurting you—actually hurting you—kills him, if it’s something you find excitement in he’ll be damned if he doesn’t deliver.

He pulls you down the length of the bed a little bit to give himself more space and with a grin he pins your wrists above your head, holding them down against the mattress with little effort. He knows he’s doing something right when that startles you, you let out a cute yelp that quickly turns into a moan. God, he could eat you up with the way you’re looking at him. But he’s gonna need to leave that for round two. Now he’s here to fulfill a wish.

He slowly picks up the pace. He’s thrusting slow and deep while his other hand freely explores your body underneath him, giving it generous squeezes as he goes. He’s testing the give of you. Learning where he can apply the pressure you so desperately crave. 

He’s fucking into your faster now, grunting at the sheer heat of you surrounding his cock with every slide. His hand glides up your body, settling back on your neck. He gives you a look as if he was warning you of what’s to happen. Yet he still manages to catch you off guard. With the snap of his hips and the iron-clad grip of his hand your eyes widen in what Homelander only translates to fear.

Immediately, he lets go.

“Why did you stop?!” You look at him, your own hand gliding across where his hand was squeezing a second ago, as if to chase the phantom feeling, recreating it yourself.

“Why did I stop? You got scared and I don’t want to fucking kill you!” He sounds angry but it’s mainly to hide the genuine worry that comes with this irresponsible play. It’s already hard for him to hold back anytime you’re having normal sex. Wanting him to rough you up conjures very different imagery in either one of your minds.

“Baby, the scary part is the best bit. I know you’ll stop before it’s too much. You can feel the give of my body. Let yourself feel that, okay?” You say softly, soothing his fears. In your entire relationship he’s not managed to hurt you, you don’t imagine it was about to start now.

“Now come on, I wanna cum with your hand around my neck.” You give him a cheeky smile that breaks him out of any doubts he had about manhandling you the way you’ve requested.

He’s given you exactly what you’ve asked for. Just enough squeeze and pressure that you feel so overwhelmed with the greatness of his presence pinning you down and nearly squeezing the life out of you that you succumb to your release. Homelander follows you there, unable to hold off after seeing the way you look at him with such adoration right after he let your airways open fully and you regained your senses. 

After you’re both beyond blissed out you snuggle up to one another, locking the jigsaw pieces of your bodies together.

Homelander traces a finger across the bruised finger marks wrapping around your neck. Part of him relishes in the way he’s managed to brand you where you won’t be able to hide it easily. Even with a scarf or a turtleneck, any slight move of the garment will expose the impressive size of your lovingly placed bruises. 

The other part of him isn’t that happy about it.

“I hurt you.”

“Duh! I wanted you to!” You scoff as if it was the most obvious thing.

His fingers trace over them some more before he leans in, placing a soft kiss against the marred skin.  

“You’re fucking crazy.” He lets out a little disbelieving laugh as he pulls you closer into his arms.

“Yeah, you’ve been rubbing off on me.”

“Nope, this is all you.” 

“Maybe. Hey, can we try spanking next?”

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @infinetlyforgotten  @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he still dreams of you and wishes for another chance to make you his, some lines are inspired by hakujitsu by king gnu

warnings: reader is rather lively/bubbly,

notes: TYSM FOR 100 !!!, a/n (yapping) in tags

wc: 1800

Hoshina Soushirou still dreamt of you. Every once in a while, you’d come to visit him in his sleep and it would make him believe that a miracle had occurred, that he had another chance. Every time, he would tell himself that he would never let this go, that he would give it his absolute all this time.

Yet, every time, he would wake up from this dream.

And every time, he would feel his heart drop at the realization of that. He was disappointed, and he knew, but there was no reason to be. It wasn't like anything had happened between the two of you. He liked to believe there was something going on— something more than mere acquaintances or friends, but he knew there wasn't. It must've been all in his head because the last time he had heard of you was before you were moved to the first division. He hadn't heard a single word from you since then, nor has he said anything— but that was just the way it was. There was nothing to do at this point anyway.

He wasn’t with you for all that long, and it was probably just the fact that both of you joined at the same time that naturally started the first conversation. He was far more weary of everything and far less cheerful at the time, and you didn't even work with him most of the time being a researcher, but you didn’t mind that one bit. If you had something you wanted to say, you would tell him and he’d just have to listen. At first, he had no idea why you kept talking to him when he paid hardly any mind, but after a while, he found comfort in your conversations. He had started to look forward to talking to you.

It had only been a few months before the defense force noticed how spectacular your work was and quickly called you over to the first division. There wasn’t a tearful farewell, or even a casual goodbye for that matter. You disappeared along with a cheerful ‘I’ll see you around!’ while you were moving your boxes out and he would hear those words ring in his head for the years to come— in your voice. Yet, at the time, all he could do was force a smile and nod.

It had been so many years since you had moved, he didn’t even know what you looked like now. Probably still stunning. Definitely still stunning. Although he had the chance to see the 1st division officers a lot, you were a researcher who worked behind the scenes. Naturally, there was no reason he'd bump into you, and he didn’t. He never did.

He loved to remember you, but he hated to think about you. He loved to remember the way you would laugh at his silly jokes, the way you would ramble on about the work you had to do daily but would still put in your all, and the way you would always visit him with some cold tea when he trained late into the night if you were still up as well. Actually, he hated thinking about the tea— it would make him start thinking about you. He would think about how you were now, if you were still pilled with work, and if you remembered him.

If he bumped into you, would you remember his name? Maybe if he cracked a lame joke. Maybe if he gave you a few days to think about it. Maybe if he started listing the things you talked about— his most treasured memories. Maybe then you’d say his name again.

See? This is why he hated thinking about you— he had things to be doing.

It wasn't like this happened everyday and it wasn't that big of a deal. It just ruined his day a little when it did happen. So if he had to say, he hated dreaming of you.

As you took over his thoughts again, the emergency alarm started to buzz, as if to tell him to snap out of it. He was thankful, he couldn't still be daydreaming like this.

A smaller-sized identified grade kaiju had appeared near the first division quarters, so the third division was doing more backup work this time. Hoshina was taking care of the smaller kaiju in the vicinity that had spawned from the presence of the honju. It felt nice for him to be doing work, it took his mind off his ramblings and cleared his head. He wasn't too worried about the honju, however. Although it was an identified grade, it wasn't anything they hadn't dealt with before and as much as he liked to tease Narumi about how he was always better at smaller kaiju neutralization, he knew Narumi was extraordinary at what he did.

At least that would have been true for any other kaiju of that size and strength, but Narumi seemed to be struggling far more than expected with this one. From his earpiece, he heard Okonogi notify him that the 1st division was asking to send Narumi some help if possible, and he immediately rushed over.

Yet, by the time he got there, Narumi had already neutralized the kaiju in question, although horribly beat up.

“I don't need your help, Hoshina!” Narumi still managed to yell while on the floor, absolutely bleeding out.

“Oh, shut up, do you want to die?” Hoshina asked. It didn't take an expert to see that Narumi’s condition was concerning.

Narumi soon fell quiet, probably unconscious, while Hoshina found his earpiece lying on the floor near him. He picked it up, hoping it'd connect to the first division just in case they had lost connection to his vitals.

“He's unconscious right now, but he seems to still be breathing. However, he's bleeding dangerously from multiple spots. I think a few ribs might also be broken,” Hoshina said. “There aren't any kaiju nearby at the moment and I'll take care of them if any do come— bring the stretcher right away.”

He waited a moment, but there was no response from the earpiece.

“Hello?” he asked, hoping for a response. After another moment, he heard it.

“Hoshina…?”

It was you. He would still recognize your voice from anywhere. Oh, how he missed you. His eyes were wide and he had nothing to say all of a sudden. You remembered him. You recognized his voice.

You remembered his name.

“Thank you for your report, we lost connection to some of his vitals halfway through. The medics should be there in a few minutes,” you said.

“I'll stand by,” Hoshina said and kept Narumi's earpiece in his ear. He had nothing he wanted to tell you, not one thing in mind, but he wanted to be on the line with you— even in silence. The medics came in a few minutes like you had told him and took care of Narumi right away.

“They got here, he should be fine now,” Hoshina said, as if you didn't already know. He just wanted something to say to you.

“I missed working with you,” you said and he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps he'd wake up from this dream again. Perhaps he'd open his eyes and be utterly disappointed again. But he knew there wasn't even a hint of romantic affection in your words, just the respect you've always had for the work he did, and how you missed doing this job with him. And he did too.

“Yeah, I did too,” he said. “I still do.”

You chuckled a little and he could still picture you smiling. “That made my entire year,” you said. “Probably not the time for this, but we should catch up sometime. If you don't mind, of course.”

Made your year. What did you mean by that? And If he didn't mind? Oh, you didn't know how many times he's dreamed of this day.

“I'd love to,” he said. While he was a little embarrassed to imagine the rest of the first-division team hearing this conversation, that was not going to stop him. He'd be an absolute fool to let this chance go. He has promised himself to give it his all this time.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked quietly.

“Sorry?” you asked, hoping he'd repeat that. You heard it, but you were afraid you were so delusional you were starting to hear things. Your heartbeat quickened and you waited patiently, hoping it wasn't all in your head.

“Do you have a lover?” he asked a little more clearly, but obviously still nervous and flustered. You had never seen him like this, ever.

“No,” you replied, a little too quickly. “I do not.”

Relief washed over him and he felt his heartbeat quicken. Oh, thank goodness you didn't have access to his vitals. He was going to make you fall for him somehow.

“…do you?” you asked quietly, after a moment.

“Me?” he asked. “No, I don't.”

“I see,” you said, but he could hear the soft delight in your voice. He would never miss it.

Perhaps he'd just go for it. There was nothing for him to lose at this point, and he had made his feelings plenty obvious already. If you didn't want him, he'd just try again. He's tried countless times in his dreams already, what's a few more?

“But I'd love to be yours,” he said and heard you gasp quietly. That one he couldn't read. Was that a little too bold? Far too sudden?

“Did I hear that right?” he faintly heard you scream, asking your fellow first division coworkers. That made him laugh, you hadn't changed one bit. “I’ve loved you forever, Hoshina.”

There was absolutely no way. He was going to wake up soon, he just knew it. Well, might as well indulge in the dream for now, then.

“I've definitely loved you for longer,” he said.

“Hoshina, I'm going to kill you if this is a dream,” you said, and that caught him off guard. Yet, even that sounded nice to him, and that made him smile. He'd get to see you, at least.

But it wasn't a dream. The way your voice fluttered his heart could never be felt through a dream. The way your laugh filled his soul could not possibly make him feel so warm through a mere dream.

“I cannot wait to see you,” you said softly, your voice so full of love it made him melt.

He couldn't either, but that wasn't exactly what he had on mind this entire time.

“And I cannot wait to kiss you.”

[astorythatwritesitself]

yes good day hi I am being COMPLETELY normal don't look at the tags about this Valentine's YCH from @valkblue 😭

[ikeasharksss]

hey im curious

feel free to rb & explain your answer in the tags!

[ex0toxin]

awughhh silly shipchart.. my canonverse hcs 🧠

og post

[a2zillustration]

I've been waiting for an excuse to tell you why Croissant is called Croissant for SO LONG

| First | | Previous | | Next |

[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[butchcarmy]

the jaw all white outfit from the sags… so many weddingday!carmy thots…

UGH he looked so good in the all white!! Those pics of him got me thinkin about taking the clothes off of him…although he's putting the clothes on in those imgs… let's just pretend…

Tags: suggestive, wedding night, telling carmy he’s pretty, undressing him

“You looked so handsome today,” you tell him when you're alone. It's the two of you in your bedroom after the wedding, still dressed in your formal attire. His suit remained fairly pristine throughout everything, especially given how you couldn't get your hands off him. To be fair, he wasn't much better in that regard.

“You were more beautiful,” he replies quietly. He pulls you in, hands gentle on your waist. “I still can't believe it.”

“What, that we're married?” You run your hands down the white lapels of his suit.

“Well, that’s one way to put it. I just…still can't believe that I got to marry you.” He's smiling again, like he's been doing all day. “Didn't feel real until I saw you walking down the aisle.”

“Didn't feel real through all the planning?” You tease, and he sighs. The planning was a huge source of stress, even through all the joy that came with it. “I know what you mean, though. Seeing you in this suit, I just…”

“Liked seeing me dressed up, huh?”

“Yes,” you whisper, carefully unbuttoning his jacket. “Couldn't stop thinking about taking it off of you.”

You kiss him on the lips, slow and sweet. He tastes faintly of the wine you both had earlier at dinner. You kiss his cheek, his jaw, and he tilts his head back when you trail your lips down his neck. Your hands gently take his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms.

“You’re so pretty, Carmy,” you continue softly, your fingers unbuttoning his shirt now. He chuckles, likely in equal parts affection and bashfulness. “So, so pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?” His cheeks are flushed by your praise. You’ve undone the last button, creating a sliver of bare skin down the front of him. You slide your hands under his shirt to gingerly take it off of him.

“Oh my god, yeah. You’re gorgeous. I swear I’ve told you this before, baby.” You’ve slipped his shirt off, and now he stands before you bare chested. You openly rake your eyes over his figure, running your hands over his warm skin. You start at his happy trail, go up his toned stomach, and smooth your thumb over the faded triangle tattoo on his chest.

“You have, I just…” Your thumb runs over his nipple, stiffening it, and he inhales sharply. “I, um, have never been called pretty before…I think.”

“What?” You gasp, aghast. How could you have missed this? Have you really never called him pretty before? “Well, clearly I need to tell you more often. Because you are. You’re my pretty boy, and I get to have you all for myself.”

“Mm, I’m all yours, beautiful,” he murmurs back, pulling you into a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you so much. So, so much.”

“I love you too, Carm,” you say, your chest full of affection. “I’m so happy you’re mine.”

“And I’m so happy that you’re mine.” He surprises you then, sweeping you off your feet and throwing you onto the bed. He’s peppering your face in kisses, and you can’t help your giddy laughter. “Let me show you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“I like the sound of that,” you reply, somewhat breathless. Carmy just smiles, and he starts taking off your clothes. He’s not gonna take it easy on you tonight.

[hailsatanacab]

Happy Ghouls and Gangs DPxDC Bang event posting week!! Here's what I've been working on for the @dpxdcbigbang 🥰

Summary:

It’s a normal day for Alfred Pennyworth. He spends it taking care of the manor and watching over its inhabitants, just as he does every other day. It’s an exhausting, never-ending task, that he wouldn’t change for the world. But that night, he is confronted by a stranger in his rooms with a copy of every single soul-binding contract he’s signed for the protection of his family. The new Ghost King wants to update his terms and conditions.

Alfred POV, Ghost King Danny, with some Post-Vivisection goodness and only a little (a lot) of blood and gore and medical fun, but that's for later. Not for the squeamish, please check the tags!!

Snippet under the cut!

It’s a normal day for Alfred Pennyworth.

He wakes up early enough to be ready to greet Master Duke with breakfast when he shambles into the kitchen, he cleans, he greets the rest of the manor’s residents when they finally make it downstairs, he cleans, he goes down to the cave to rouse Master Tim from another sleepless night, he cleans.

It’s a quiet day, or as much as one can be when the place he calls home is filled with vigilantes.

He drops off Masters Damian, Tim, and Duke at school and uses the rest of the trip to pick up some groceries for dinner. Coq au vin tonight, he thinks, it’ll be perfect for the changing of the seasons. A mushroom and lentil substitute for Master Damian will do lovely.

The rest of the day is spent preparing the meal and doing a spot of gardening before it’s time for the school run again. He can’t help but smile fondly as he listens to them needle and tease each other, only stepping in when it starts to become too pointed.

Yes, it’s a normal day for Alfred Pennyworth. It’s at night when it all changes.

There’s a ghost waiting for him in his room. 

A soft glow emanates from the creature’s vaguely transparent body and a crisp frost creeps slowly across the floor, sparkling in the darkness like diamonds.

“Mr. Pennyworth?” it says, the voice bouncing off the walls so that it sounds like hundreds of beings instead of one.

Fear squeezes at his heart and the air in the room turns dark and heavy, so that Alfred struggles to breathe. His mouth is dry, his head is swimming, and he’s not entirely sure if he’s going to survive the night.

[yaekiss]

okay. the will wood song as vampire childe. a reverse of that oh so beloved fic based off a lil ask of mine.

the way he loves your pure, unadulterated humanity as you breathe down his neck when you’re on top of him. you’d have him squeeze his scarred thighs together if they weren’t pinned open from your pounding into his pretty and greedy hole.

he begs for your attention either way. his bratty words as he tries to set you off, wanting to drain you of your blood to have you even a part of his body. he begs and begs, taking in every careful breath of yours between his own moans of pure bliss and his sucking of your blood. the way he looks on with dazed eyes as your own roll back when you tell him to detach… but no　♡︎　he’s not doing that.

vampire childe who is just your silly little parasite! despite his expensive tastes, he likes it when you drag him to some seedy club’s bathroom and take him in the stall where anyone can hear him. his tab’s forgotten as he makes up for pissing you off from letting others ogle at him, such lecherous monsters he’s much better than, at least, that’s what he says as he’s holding onto the dirty mirror, seeing the possessiveness in your gaze as you surely leave bruises on his hips and ass.

IHDSWJHD I can't believe I wrote so much for Bloodied Fangs... something about exploring the different dynamics of vamps I guess idk what came over me. I think your asks just do something to the writing part of my brain. Hmm. Rambling under the cut again, I think I'm losing it

On a side note, if anyone reading this would like a full fic based on a prompt/request you might have, do check out my ongoing event!!

ANYWAYS! sorry I have worldbuilding(?) brainworms I have to get out first b4 everything else as usual sigh. I think a vamp!Childe is bloodthirsty in ever sense of the word. If we're going by the more popular vampire tropes, he might enjoy the boost to his abilities (i.e. heightened senses, supernatural strength) although I am curious to see how it would affect the use of his delusion and his Foul Legacy state.

Would additional vampiric features manifest themselves in the Foul Legacy state? Sharpened fangs, torn and roughed up bat-like wings?? Would mixing the powers from the delusion and vampirism produce any backlash? If the delusion draws from the user's life force, what would happen to a vampire who's immortal? One can only speculate.

Perhaps it's the genuine concern combined with natural curiosity in your expression when you pose these questions to him that continues to draw him closer and closer to you. How sweet of you to worry over him, he swears he can almost feel his now non-functioning heart skip a beat when your warm hand cups his face. He drinks in your warmth, constantly clinging to your side like some leech.

Which is why he loves it when he managed to rile you up, the contrast you show him is addicting. He knows what he's doing when he licks at the salt rim of his glass, shooting you a coy look as he consciously ignores the way the other patrons of the club are eyeing him. He knows he's won when you're dragging him off to the bathroom, a possessive glint in your eyes. Meanwhile, Childe is beaming when some customers whistle at the spectacle.

You sure that those outside can definitely hear his moans over the trashy upbeat music the club is blasting on the speakers but the man before you doesn't seem to care at all. His fangs sinking into your skin, the familiar taste of your blood settling on his tongue. The flavour is intoxicating, heady, rich. Infinitely better than whatever that drink he ordered just now was, how could it even compare?

He feels you yanking at his hair, trying to drag him off you and saying something along the lines of, "C'mon detach already, haven't you had enough?" The answer could not be more clear to him, how could such a small taste of you ever be enough?

If he drains you of everything, doesn't that mean your entirety will be a part of him for all eternity?

Bonus!! can't really figure out how to link it to everything I wrote above but I think he'd really like it if he could drink your blood while you're fucking him. Something about lapping away at your neck/wherever he chose to bite, acutely aware of your heartrate speeding up when he clenches down on you, your blood laced with the sharp sweet taste of bliss and arousal. He could simply drown in it all.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

If you'd like to request a full fic of your own, do consider checking out my event post!

[demonslayedher]

I finished posting the unabashedly educational Sword Fic.

It includes a detailed (but hopefully beginner-friendly) explanation of all the steps of making a Nichirin blade from a sunny mountain like Mt. Youkou, a touch of swordsmith and metalworker folk lore (including demons), meta about what must make Kimetsu no Yaiba's swordsmithing methods different from real life methods, some character exploration for Haganezuka and his polishing method, vocabulary and additional resources in the chapter notes, and hopefully, an endearing, silly POV character to learn this all through.

[crystallizsch]

Trouble? You're only in trouble if you get caught. So don't let me catch you ~

uhhhhh say hi to jamil and yuusha's kid jas(mine) pt 2 (also here and here are like my only two other posts of her)

HFDDF OKAY SO - i actually had these unfinished sketches from months ago of jas as a nrc student and scarabia housewarden

this sneaky little bastard (affectionate) had never left my cranium she was just sitting idly by

im sobbing i hate jas so much (lie i love her)

jamil and yuusha still aren't supposed to have a kid so i just imagine this to be an alternate timeline for them 🤧🤧🤧

soooo info dump time ---

━━━━━━✦ scarabia housewarden nrc jas

jas has a vice-housewarden who is her childhood best friend (figuring out if i want them to be twst rajah or abu)

also thinking about if i want yuusha to be a staff member in nrc with grim or just dead during this time (why? just because)

no further info tbh, scarabia housewarden jas is just vibing

━━━━━━✦ child jas stuffs

i'm SO indecisive about her design as a toddler/preteen lowkey 😭

she was very sweet as a toddler but somewhere along the line she just became more carefree and chaotic

jas is a mama's girl but is more alike with her father than she cares to admit

octavinelle trio and heartslabyul duo + grim are like the honorary uncles (jas's favorites are floyd, ace, and grim bc they sometimes enable her with shenanigans)

even though jas has favorite uncles, najma is the favorite favorite. i imagine she's just the cool aunt

if mama yuu is "shrimpy" then jas is a "tiger prawn" (bc rajah)

jas LOVES doing people's hair including her own; would rather do them by hand rather than by magic

jamil showed jas how to breakdance once and it became ingrained in her personality ever since

(there's probably still more about her that i'm forgetting but this is it for now)

━━━━━━✦ bonus future jamiyuu stuff because i miss them

jamil took yuusha's last name surprise surprise (if they get married)

i imagine after nrc they'd be travelling together actually, not necessarily settling down

(i'm REALLY not 100% on them settling down and having a kid but i still love jas a lot so im so conflicted) (that's why aus exist 😔✨)

(and if hypothetically they do settle down i think yuusha being staff in nrc with grim + maybe jamil who travels for work (or being a house husband??? maybe they alternate roles) can be adorable ideas)

━━━━━━✦ (i also had this thing that i never posted about that one trope of a fankid finding themselves in nrc bc of portal/time/mirror shenanigans)

(jamil found both of them asleep somewhere and refuses to wake them up)

also some bonus tidbits about this scenario with them:

💜: Is she a family member of yours? How'd she get here?

🐍: I have never seen that child in my life before now. And there's no way I could have missed news about a new relative of mine.

💜: You know how ridiculous it sounds if she's related to me. I'm not from here. She even looks more like you!

🐍: Jas has the same color of eyes as you. Didn't you tell me she mistook you for her mother?

💜: ...Yeah, but I don't like what you're implying.

🐍: Well, I'm not exactly happy with this either.

they're just both in denial of the implication of this child existing and neither of them is saying it out loud.

and the angst/wholesomeness(???) of jamil asking jas's full name and hearing that she has her mother's last name instead of his

eventually they grew attached (unfortunately) until somehow they send jas home to her original timeline

and then they finally have a real conversation about what all that was about

anyways thank you for reading if you've made it this far;;; end tweet

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: a reader that keeps messing around w him and at some point they mention they like him but then hoshina thinks theyre just playing... ..but they r not and he doesnt quite get it at first because hes so used to them joking around and then he ends up overthinking the whole thing until reader actually goes up to him to kiss him (or hug him very tight!!!!!!!! or both maybe!!!!!!)

maybe he liked them too but that thought didnt sit right with him because he doesnt believe hes worthy of something like that

notes: mentions the reader's face "flushing", reader is rather lively/outgoing, reader is not a fan of horror and is more a fan of romance, reader is a hoshina stan, one part is inspired by a scene in wakaba no komorebi, omg why are there so many notes I'm so sorry TY FOR THE REQ!!

wc: 2800

A new day, a new chance for you to shoot your shot at none other than your vice-captain of the third division.

You were always messing with him. This ranged from embarrassing pranks a grade school boy would menace his crush with, all the way to borderline hitting on him. There wasn’t a single day you’d forget to remind him he was stunning, and you’d always be bragging about him to the officers in the first division, regardless of the fact that you had absolutely nothing to do with the things you were bragging about. Simply put, you were loud about Hoshina.

Yet, every day, he'd brush you off and tell you to get to work. You didn't let that mind you much though, because you could tell he wasn't actually upset. You liked him unconditionally, and as long as you weren't actually bothering him, you couldn't care less if your feelings weren't returned. Well, you did care, but that wasn't going to stop how you felt for him.

Now, you said all of that, but naturally, you were still scared to just put your feelings out there so you hadn’t actually told Hoshina you liked him. You assumed he knew, but if you said it out loud, you’d have to hear an answer. And that, you were not ready for.

However, you weren’t going to stop messing with him anytime soon. Hoping one day he’d actually fall for you and one day you’d have the courage to properly tell him how you felt.

You were in the cafeteria with the rest of the division, having your breakfast while mindlessly scrolling through your phone, when you saw a post about a new movie in theatres. Immediately your mind went to possibly inviting Hoshina and you scrolled right back up, trying to find out what it was about. Horror. You sighed and continued to scroll. Horror was absolutely not your favourite.

“Oh, is it finally out?” you heard a voice from behind you say— your favourite voice say.

“Would you like to go?” you asked, whipping your head back to see none other than Hoshina Soushirou. Just the sight of him and your heart would flutter. How you loved him. “Together? Us? Just us? You and me?”

“Oh, like we have time to go,” he said.

“Man,” you said, knowing he’d say that. The entire defence force in general had been a lot busier ever since the appearance of so many identified grade kaijus. However, it did make you wonder if that meant he would if he did have time. No, he’s just declining your invitation politely, you’d tell yourself, bringing you back to your senses.

You’ve done this since always, and you do this every time without fail. Whenever a new shop had opened, or a new movie to watch had come to theatres, you'd always shoot your shot— hoping he'd say yes one day. Yes to a date.

Although you were used to getting turned down, it still wasn’t the best feeling. Recently, you've been letting it get to you far more than you used to. Maybe after all these times, the rejection did start to have an affect on you. Maybe you were falling for him even harder recently, or maybe you were starting to hope for your feelings to be returned.

Perhaps a relaxing day at the movies was exactly what you needed. Maybe you’d ask for a day off next week— just to go watch a movie you liked.

So you did exactly that, you filed a form to Captain Ashiro, requesting a day off anytime the next week. Preferably on a Tuesday, because movie tickets were cheaper on Tuesdays.

A few days later, you were called over to her office. You assumed it was just to let you know if you could have your day off and if so, when it was. To your surprise, when you walked in, it wasn't Ashiro but rather Hoshina there, working away.

“Hoshina?” you asked, pleasantly surprised. “I didn't expect to see you today.”

“You didn't?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “But this is my office?”

“Your office? I thought it was Captain Ashiro’s?” you said.

“It used to be, but I took it over a little while back,” he said. “It's just a lot faster for me to do the paperwork.”

“Oh… I see,” you said, rather surprised you weren't already aware. There was a moment of silence.

“It was rather recently that I had officially started working here,” he said, somehow noticing that you were dejected. Oh, how did he always know exactly what to say? You were never going to get over him at this rate. “Anyways, you requested a day off next week?”

“Um… yes,” you said. Now you felt a little awkward about going to a movie alone, and you really hoped he wouldn't realize where you were going.

“On a Tuesday… are you going to see that movie after all?” he asked and he noticed you stiffened a little, so he immediately followed with, “Sorry, you don't have to answer that. You're absolutely free to take that day off.”

“I am,” you said. Half a lie, because there was no way you were watching a horror movie, let alone by yourself. But you were going to the movies. That was true. “It's been a while since I watched a movie in theatres, I realized.”

“I've never gone alone actually,” he said, imagining you were planning to go alone. “Or are you going with someone?”

“No, I'll be by myself,” you said, but instinctively you asked him out again. It was practically in your subconsciousness to do so. “Unless you'd like to tag along?”

There was a long pause before he said anything, and his unreadable expression only made the silence feel longer. You were expecting a quick rejection again, so the silence was absolutely killing you— you hadn't expected it one bit.

“Actually, I'd like to,” he said. “If that's okay with you, of course.”

You couldn't believe your ears. What did he say? You couldn't have possibly heard that right. What had he said?

On the other hand, he had no idea why he said yes. Why after turning you down all these times? Why now? He had turned down every offer of yours because he knew you were just messing around. You didn’t feel about him the way he felt about you. He knew this because you had done this since the moment you joined, and you couldn’t have liked him back then— you hadn't even know him yet.

But still, he hoped you were serious.

“You're joking,” you said.

“Were you?” he asked. This must be why he said yes. He wanted to know so badly— he was rather exhausted of playing the guessing game with you.

“Not at all,” you said. You thought he had known, but perhaps not. “I've never been. Not for a moment.”

“Then, let's go,” he said with his poker face on, but he was a little shaken. He didn't think you were at all serious, let alone that serious.

“Hoshina, is this a date?” you asked, and you could tell your cheeks were flushed. However, there wasn't much to be embarrassed about at this point, so you might as well have asked before you drove yourself insane.

“Okay…” you said, but you were spaced out. You had no idea what had prompted this all of a sudden, but this was the moment you had been waiting for, for your whole life. Yes to a date.

A date? Was it a date?

“Would you like it to be?” he asked. You had no idea what he was thinking.

“Yes,” you said. “Of course…”

“Then, let's go on a date,” he said. “On Tuesday, at 2pm. I'll pick you up from your unit and we'll go and watch a movie.”

It was yes to a date. A date with none other than the love of your life. You were going on a date with Hoshina Soushirou.

You left the office soon after, thanking him as you left, and you were lost in thought. You truly felt like the world around you had stopped, but at the same time, the time passing was a blur. You thought it’d be forever before your long awaited day, and you’d have plenty of time to calm yourself down and prepare, but it had rolled around before you knew it.

You put on what you personally thought was your best date outfit, but you had no idea if he’d like it. You really hoped he would. Now, you were sitting around, waiting for him to come pick you up. It was still 10 till 2, but he was always ahead of schedule— he hated making people wait, so he was always early. A few minutes later, you heard a few footsteps and some rustling outside your door, and you were pretty sure it was him. You waited for a knock, but it wouldn’t come.

Quickly, you opened the door and it was him, waiting by your door with his phone in his hand, opened to your messages with him.

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry, were you waiting?”

“No,” you said, immediately. “I just finished getting ready. Why didn’t you knock?”

“Well, I’m early,” he said. “Didn’t want to rush you.”

Gosh, you were on a date. With him. You had actually never seen him in anything other than what he wears at the defense force, and as much as you liked that training shirt he had on, he looked so incredibly gorgeous today. And this was just for you. He wore a black corduroy turtleneck, and a simple long coat to go over it. You were still so lost, how had you gotten to this point in the first place?

“You’re stunning today,” he said to you as he smiled a little and you swear you felt your heartrate spike. Did he even know what he was doing?

“Not to mean you aren’t usually…” he said immediately. “Sorry, I never say the right things when they count, do I?”

“No, I thought my heart was going to stop,” you said, frankly. This was the way you always were, there was no point in getting flustered all of a sudden. “You’re gorgeous everyday, but even more so today.”

“Well, I’d have to be glad our date is today then,” he said.

While the two of you walked to the theatre, it was rather quiet. Far more quiet than you usually were. Suddenly, you were so nervous, and there was nothing to say to him. So many questions filled your head but none of them felt appropriate to ask. You felt like the spell would break if you took one wrong breath. You wanted to know why he was here with you today. Why he said yes all of a sudden, why he took a precious day off to go on a date with you, and what he was thinking when he said yes. You wanted to know how he felt about you, or at least how he felt about this date.

“I’ll go get us tickets,” you said, as soon as you got to the theatre. “Please pick a snack and a drink in the meantime, I’ll get the tickets quick.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, I’m getting the tickets, and the drinks and snacks, for that matter,” he said. “Besides, we haven’t even decided on a movie yet.”

“We haven’t?” you asked. “I thought we were watching the movie that came out the other day?”

“What? Why would we?” he asked, genuinely confused. “You don’t even like horror." He pointed at another poster on the wall. "Why don’t we watch that one? Romance is more your type of thing, isn’t it?”

You thought you’d cry. If there was one thing that was worrying you about this date, it was the movie. Horror really wasn’t for you, and you weren’t sure if you could watch the movie without showing it.

“How did you know?” you asked.

“It’s obvious,” he said. “You’ve never asked me out to a horror movie, have you?”

Just how did he notice? “But didn’t you want to watch that one?” you asked.

“Please, I can watch that whenever, on my own,” he said. “I’m here with you today. I’d be a horrible date to make you watch it with me.”

“Thank you,” you said, starstruck. “At least, let me pay for it then?”

“No way,” he said. “I’m taking you out today.”

“No, I asked you out,” you said.

“Don’t care!” he said and went off to get the tickets and snacks.

You were in love with him, and you were going to tell him. You were sure he knew, but you had to tell him properly. It wasn’t even that you were hoping for him to return your feelings, you just wanted to tell him.

You thought you wouldn’t be able to focus on the movie at all, but you were, strangely enough. You were watching a cliche romance movie that couldn’t possibly be about you and Hoshina, no matter how much you tried to stretch the narrative, but you loved it. It was a sweet movie, a type that you've always loved, and you were watching it with the one you always loved. You couldn’t be happier.

So as soon as the movie was over, you went for it.

“Hoshina, I love you so much,” you said, and kissed him. On the lips.

His eyes were wide and his cheeks were faintly flushed. You weren’t expecting that, not even for a moment.

“You’re serious?” he asked.

You were confused, did he think you were playing around all this time? “Yes, of course,” you said. “I’ve loved you for forever.”

“Since… when?” he asked.

“Since the day you saved me, 3 years ago,” you said, immediately. It was like you had waited all your life to answer this. “You definitely don’t remember, but I remember like yesterday.”

He wouldn’t reply, but he was still looking at you surprised, so you continued on.

“I thought I had told you this actually. Not the part that I liked you, but the part that you saved me. I joined because of you, Hoshina,” you said. “Yes, you’re my vice-captain and the love of my life, and I’m one of your officers, but you were my hero and I was your biggest fan for all this time.”

Something in him shifted. It felt like someone had woken him up from a weird haze, and showed him how much colour there is to the world. You joined for him. Not for Mina, not for Gen, but him. To you, he was a hero. To the one he treasured most, he was irreplaceable.

“I love you too,” he said, with the softest smile you had ever seen from him. He was serious, you could tell.

“No way,” you said.

“I do,” he said, but he could tell that you were a little skeptical, or at least puzzled. “I love the way you work hard, the way you joke around, but actually care so much. I love the way you give everything your all. I love the way you always smile when you see me— it makes me feel so special. You make my day, absolutely every single day.”

It took everything in you to stop yourself from sobbing, but that made Hoshina laugh. He kissed you this time, and tears rolled down your cheeks anyway.

Wiping your cheeks with the pad of his thumb, he kissed you on the forehead.

“I absolutely adore you.”

BONUS:

Later that day, you were going to open up the one cardboard box you still hadn’t unpacked. The one filled with your posters and merch of Hoshina you had collected through these years. You were hiding them, because you thought it’d be a little too weird if you had those just hanging around, but finally, they’d see the sunlight. You would never have even imagined this day when you had those in your room, dreaming of him. If only you could tell your past self— just how thrilled you would’ve been. Well, not that you were any less thrilled now.

The next time Hoshina came to visit you in your room, he was utterly flustered, it was absolutely adorable. He couldn’t believe people actually bought the merch they sold of him, let alone put them up— and in the room of his loved one nonetheless. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, because it made him so incredibly happy.

He was thrilled that you did, in fact, love him the way he loved you.

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[cyclogenesis]

Every Single Other Universe. Logan/Wade, post-Deadpool & Wolverine, Explicit. 12,470 words.

In which Wade and Logan and their variants are being hunted down by a hater from the Void and are thus tasked with hunting the hater back. Weirdly, all of their other variants are dating each other in their respective timelines. Does that seem meaningful to anybody else?

Read it on AO3!

[dawn-moths]

Hello how are you can I request Ronald with at frist shy looking and inocennt s/o,but she is actually really nasty and freaky and like some smut in there to i would be most thankfull i love your blog,lots of love😘😘

hello!! |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ

i hope you like what i came up with. enjoy!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ronald Knox x Female Reader

word count: 4,000+

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, reader is described as being/dressing feminine, reader is called “good girl, baby” and referred to as "princess", the nickname “daddy” is used for Ron, sub/dom dynamics, size difference, finger sucking, reader is carried, minimal prep, masochist reader, rough sex, biting, choking, hair pulling, nipple play, cock warming, aftercare.

***

It always starts this way, it seems.

What begins as otherwise harmless kissing quickly evolves into something much more explicit. Much more obscene.

Because, just before things start to get a little more heated, you find yourself straddling Ron’s lap, your mouth hovering over his as you both breathe in each other’s air, panting like dogs left out in the afternoon heat.

You, his precious baby with the face of an angel and the mind of a little devil only he’s allowed to know.

You, his own personal little porn star.

And you’re shameless. Eager. So enticing that it takes every ounce of will he has not to just hook his thumbs into the waistband of those pretty lace panties he knows you love to wear and tear them to shreds, to push you back and pin you down to the couch and fuck you until there’s tears in your eyes and your voice has gone raspy and raw from all the sounds of pleasure he’s forced from your throat.

You, his shy little sex kitten, always teasing him in those skirts that are just a little too short, those necklines that are just a little too low, your body’s soft curves the kind that the ancient Greeks used to sculpt statues of, chipping away at cold marble until a woman was found somewhere among the jagged rock. Reverent. Ethereal. Sacred.

Only for him.

Only, you do feel a little bit of shame, if you were being completely honest with yourself. It makes itself known in the way your cheeks heat, in the way your blood goes icy-hot with embarrassment at how you must look like this. How debauched and needy and on your way to no doubt becoming a complete and utter mess by the time this session is over.

But that’s the thing about you.

The more shy you acted now, the more desperate and dirty you’d be for him later.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Ron asked with one of those soft, charming grins spreading across his spit-shined lips, his voice low and soothing. He gently gripped your chin between his fingers and turned your face, which you’d momentarily tried to hide by nuzzling it into your shoulder, back up towards him, coaxing your nervous gaze to follow. “What is it?” he further questioned, though with a lilt of an amused chuckle laced into his hushed tone. “Things movin’ a little too fast for ya?”

In response, all you could manage was a squeak and another attempt to retreat and hide your shy little expressions from him again, but he was faster that time and caught you before you could really escape. When his smile refused to falter you knew he wasn’t going to let you off easy.

“No, no, no,” he said, tone woven with mischievous mirth. “Don’t hide…” Then, leaning in close to whisper in your ear, his lips nearly brushing the shell of it as his warm breath wafted against your neck, he murmured, “Seeing you get all flustered is one of my favorite parts…”

Ron knew that your whole sweet-and-innocent act was merely a mask to cover what you both knew was really true about you. And that was the undeniable fact that you were quite the little masochist. You liked it when he got rough with you. Left you a trembling mess by the end of the night after covering you in the shape of his bite and several shades of bruises from the press of his fingertips.

But, even so, it wasn’t like that shyer side of you was entirely fake, either.

Your innocence, whether it was surface level or not, was one of the things that had drawn Ron towards you in the first place, after all. Because who didn’t love a girl who seemed like a little darling on the outside only to discover what a little devil she was hiding underneath all those coy smiles and cute little dresses and lacy lingerie.

Your tender sweetness also happened to pair well with Ron’s proclivity to tease.

“Don’t be mean…” you whined, the corners of your mouth pulling down into one of those adorable little pouts Ron loved to be the cause of.

At this, Ron merely let out another one of those low, borderline sinister chuckles under his breath. He placed both his hands on your hips, readjusted your position over his lap to spread your thighs a little further, pulling where you were no doubt becoming more sensitive and needy down to brush against where his own arousal was growing from under his trousers.

Upon feeling him rubbing against your core you couldn’t help but let out a helpless little whimper, the first flare of impatient need coming to life inside of you.

“Y’know…” Ron reminded you, reveling in every little wiggle or squirm he felt wrack through your body as he pressed you even closer against him, “if you just tell Daddy what you want, it’ll be a whole lot easier for him to give it to you…”

You were shy…

Until you weren’t.

“I want…” you began, voice a shaky little plea. “I want your fingers in my mouth, Daddy…”

The request came out as more whisper than words, your head feeling dizzy from the rush of blood that raced upward to burn from your chest to the tips of your ears even hotter than before, the embarrassment almost enough to cancel out your eagerness, though not quite.

“Oh yeah?” Ron taunted, a slight growl to his voice now as he felt his own desires threaten to spill over the edge, the arousal welling to the brim within him from the thought of it alone. “Well then…” He pressed the pad of his thumb to the plush of your lower lip, gently pulling down to coax your sweet little mouth open wider for him. “Guess I have no choice but to deliver on what my baby needs…”

Slipping one of his long, slender fingers along the slick warmth of your tongue, then two, feeling you sucking the digits down further until they disappeared all the way up to the seam of his palm, your throat bobbing as the tips of his fingers brushed against the back of your gag reflex, Ron couldn’t help but gulp as well, trying to keep his composure the best he could.

“God, baby…” he sighed, as if in prayer. You curled your tongue around him, coating his fingers further in your thick saliva, at which point Ron slowly pulled them free, dragging them flat across your tongue and shuddering at the thought of how your mouth would feel encasing other parts of his body, before wiping some of your spit across your kiss-swollen lips.

The more disheveled or dirty you became, the more beautiful Ron thought you were.

“Daddy…?” you asked, that syrupy shyness drizzled back over the word like you were still his innocent little angel causing his cock to twitch in his pants. You didn’t miss the way he was beginning to shift and squirm as well, likely just as impatient as you now, if not more so. “Do you wanna…?” You glanced over your shoulder at where the bedroom door was open just a crack, as if trying to tempt you with the promise of what lay inside.

Ron followed your line of sight, glancing back to you when you turned to meet his emerald gaze again. A smirk fissured across his boyishly handsome features, his own little demon stirring back to life.

He nudged your nose with his, hummed out a melodic note of affirmation, and then, the next thing you knew, he was hoisting you up to carry you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his big palms cushioned the backs of your soft thighs, the silky flesh spilling between his strong grip.

He nudged open the door with his foot before swinging it closed in the same manner, not wasting a second before he had you lying back on the bed, pinned beneath him like a rare butterfly he’d worked hard to collect and had no intention of letting go.

Grabbing up both your wrists in one of his fists, Ron used his free hand to begin pushing your skirt up around your waist, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and rising a wave of chills over you, taking a moment to knead you there as you gently writhed under his hold, trying to squeeze your legs together to create even just a little bit of friction for yourself. But Ron recognized instantly what you were trying to do and coaxed your legs back apart, wanting to be the one to get you worked up himself.

You knew your panties must be soaked by now, the expensive lace likely ruined just from his teasing alone, but it wasn’t until he slipped two of his lithe fingers in through the side to glide through your delicate, drenched folds that you truly realized just what a mess you really were.

Ron let out an amused, prideful breath of a laugh. “So wet for me…” he half praised, half teased, applying pressure to your throbbing clit, making a gasp and one of those delectable little whines escape from your throat. “Just like that…” he said, rubbing skillful circles against the tender, swollen little bud. “So good for me,” he cood. “Always such a good girl…”

He let go of your wrists to use both hands to begin removing the ruined lace from you, encouraging you to help him in discarding it along with your skirt, and once you were left bare below the waist for him, Ron took a moment to admire you like that, all spread and vulnerable for his eyes only.

“So beautiful, baby…” he sighed, entranced. “You’re perfect…”

Ron thought you had the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen, all pink and glistening like the dewy petals of a rose, but he knew that the sight of it was nothing compared to how it felt squeezing around his cock. It was a sensation he was addicted to. Just the mere memory of your most recent time together was enough to make him feel like he could lose all control, becoming more desperate to satisfy his desire by the minute.

Lucky for him though, he knew you liked it rough, so if he didn’t take the full time needed to prep you, you wouldn’t necessarily hold it against him.

You both were still half clothed, and the humidity of the room and the body heat being exchanged between you two was near stifling. You needed the rest of your clothes off soon or else you’d become so hot and frazzled you’d hardly be able to think. Not that you needed to when in Ron’s hands. He already knew what you wanted, what you liked, though, lucky for you, he also wanted the rest of your clothing off.

“Arms up,” Ron told you, already gathering the hem of your top in his hands, halfway to tugging it up your chest, eyes unable to help but catch on the sight of the pretty matching bra that currently cradled your breasts. You obeyed without hesitation and soon found yourself fully exposed, the room now feeling a few degrees cooler.

Ron began hastily unbuckling his belt, the strain of his erection having grown painful with how hard it was trying to free itself from his trousers. He quickly discarded the remainder of his clothing, biting back a groan as he took his pulsing length in his hand, though couldn’t stop the punched out, “Fuck—” that escaped his lips when he slid it between the silky petals of your dewy folds, gathering more of your slick before lining himself up with your tight little entrance.

You wanted him to take his time, allow you to feel every vein and ridge of him, but for as much as Ron usually indulged you, it seemed that tonight time was going to have to wait.

“Now be a good girl for me,” he instructed, already sounding halfway to being out of breath, “and hold still for Daddy—”

With his hands gripping your hips hard enough for bruises to bloom beneath his fingers and one quick, harsh thrust, Ron buried himself down to the hilt inside of you. You let out a broken cry, head thrown back and neck craning as you felt yourself suddenly split by the familiar aching pleasure his cock provided.

And it hurt.

It hurt so much.

But you fucking loved it.

“That’s it, baby…” Ron panted, hunching over you while you both took a moment to adjust to each other’s bodies. “Good girl… Always so good at taking my cock…”

He was peppering chaste little kisses along your temple and jaw, a feeble attempt to distract you from the stringing stretch he’d just forced your body to endure as well as an apology for the soreness he knew you’d feel tomorrow because of it, a thin sheen of sweat already beginning to break out over the both of you.

But soon, all you could focus on was the slow drip of euphoria that was on its way to taking over your brain, some of the pain numbing as it gave way to pleasure.

When Ron first began moving, it was slow and rhythmic, all prior rush gone from his intentions. But the more your cunt clenched around him, the more erratic he seemed to become, hips stuttering in their motions as he struggled to keep a consistent rhythm. And by the time you were whimpering out a pathetic little, “Choke me,” well…

Ron just about lost it.

One hand rested over the delicate curve of your throat, Ron wanting to feel the hammering of your pulse for a moment before he cut off your air supply. Your eyes glittered up at him through the low light, so much love and trust and dangerous desire all wrapped up in your gaze. He held you in suspense for a moment, waiting until the frantic rise and fall of your chest slowed to something much steadier and controlled. Then, after you took your next inhale, his grip tightened, squeezing around your neck and making your eyes roll when you realized, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t breathe.

Not unless he allowed you to.

Ron kept careful count of the time going by though, knowing your limits, having committed them to memory, and when you first gave his wrist a tap he knew you were backing out prematurely. When he refused your first request, he felt your pussy flutter around him, the adrenaline on the verge of surging through you and breaking away into panic. Your vision started to blur and you tapped again, and that time, Ron obliged.

You sucked in a gasp of air, panting in shorter, more panicked breaths for a moment while his hand still rested over your throat as he admired you like that.

He’d ruin you and you’d gladly let him.

But something then seemed to occur to him as his fingers traced down to the line of your collarbones and the supple flesh of your breasts.

Those perked little nipples of yours were looking awfully neglected. And what kind of boyfriend would Ron be if he let that stand?

You let out a squeak when his mouth found the first pebbled bud, being gentle at first, teasing you with his lips and tongue until you were arching your back to push further into the wet warmth of his mouth. Ron had to hold your hips down as you began to squirm, wanting to feel every little shiver, tremble, and twitch your body made as he granted you more pleasure, each reaction felt as your cunt massaged his girth to varying degrees.

As his mouth tended to one side, his fingers took care of the other, only switching when he felt like your reactions became less intense. You were so sensitive everywhere he touched you, it seemed, so delicate to his ministrations, he could play you like a harp. And, in return, you’d make the most beautiful, melodic music for him as his fingers pulled at your strings, your moans the prettiest sound he’d ever heard.

But once your stomach started clenching in rapid succession, Ron knew he had to take a short intermission on this song you two were composing together. Just long enough to ensure you made it through to the encore, at least.

Lifting one of your legs, Ron threw it over one of his freckled shoulders to spread you even wider for him, sinking in so deep you swore you could feel him in your tummy, the mere implication making another rolling wave of arousal course through you and causing Ron to breathe out another one of those helpless, stuttering curses. His muscles clench as he rolls his hips in to meet yours, back to being slow and controlled.

But you needed more.

You needed it rougher.

“Harder…” you pleaded, breathless and wanting. 

Ron readjusted the both of you, once again taking your wrists in his grip and pinning them both beside your head, something to anchor you down for what came next, but you coaxed him to let you lock your fingers with his. It feels more intimate his way, and already knowing how rough he can get when you ask for it you feel better knowing that this simple act of handholding will help to balance out the consequences of his strength.

Ron starts to pick up speed, each time pulling almost all the way out before spearing his cock back into you, likely hard enough to ensure he was going to have to take care of you all day tomorrow, his poor little baby too sore and raw to even get out of bed on her own. 

But that’s ok.

That’s what he’s here for, after all.

His glasses begin to fog and his breathing is reduced to shallow panting, the shimmering veil of sweat that covers you both thickening under the growing humidity emanating from your bodies.

When the next request to roll off your tongue is a slurred whine of, “Bite me, Daddy…” Ron doesn’t hesitate that time. He lets go of your wrists, leans down and sinks his teeth into the tender spot between your neck and shoulder, letting out a desperate whine of his own when you followed up with a pained, shuddering exhale of, “Harder​​—”

You let out a yelp as you thrash beneath him, Ron increasing the pressure until the skin breaks and he tastes blood. But he doesn’t let go. Not yet. Because your trembling little hands have formed tight fists in his strawberry blonde locks, pulling so hard at the roots that his scalp prickles with sharp, staticky pain. Just when it was becoming too much, you yanked his head back hard enough that he takes the cue to unlatch his bite from your flesh, pink-tinted strands of saliva keeping his mouth connected to the new wound he’s gifted you for a moment before he created enough distance to have them break.

You were both panting and shaking, like two animals on the verge of death, and when he saw the vicious red indents carved out in the shape of his mouth, saw the blood that was trying to well in the deepest parts of the injury where his incisors had pierced straight through, Ron felt a small sense of dread for a moment. Because, as much as this has become to be expected between the two of you sometimes, he couldn’t help but fear he might go too far. That he might hurt you for real, in a way you wouldn’t get some sick sense of pleasure from, and that you’d stare up at him with fear instead of love.

But, looking down at you now, all he can seem to find as he searches your gaze is that beautiful, tender adoration that he’s pretty sure he would die without at this point.

But now it was time to finish this.

You were both close to the edge.

Ron preferred when you fell together.

Once again, his motions become rhythmic and savoring, ever the master of the push and pull between control and carnality, though kept up the speed needed to match each other’s oncoming orgasms.

He’d come to know your body so well, how it reacted and responded to his, that the moment he felt your stomach return to its rapid fluttering, like a little bird taking flight, legs tensing as your cunt constricted around his cock harder than before, he knew you were mere seconds away from coming undone. After three more thrusts, he’s right there with you, spilling his balmy warmth into your tight wet heat as you gush your glistening arousal all over his cock, both of you making a mess of each other in tandem before all that heady tension begins to slowly bleed away, leaving the both of you to fall slack and satisfied, the air heavy with the scent of your unrestricted love.

But Ron doesn’t pull out just yet. He likes to feel the aftershocks, the way your pussy flutters weakly around him as he goes soft, both of your combined juices drooling out of your abused little hole and staining the bedsheets below while your bodies are still one.

Once some of his senses returned to him, Ron carefully pulled out, bringing a trail of cum along with his blushing cock, and scooped you up in his arms so you could lay draped across his damp chest, his hair a tangled, tousled mess and his glasses smudged, yet something about him being disheveled like that only added to his charm.

He liked to let you doze off, if you wanted to, gently stroking your arm or your back or your hip with one hand while your eyelids became increasingly heavier until they had no choice but to fall closed, allowing him to tend to you once you’d fallen asleep. But when his fingers lightly traced along your shoulder and you winced, sucking in a small, sharp hiss, Ron remembered the mark he left there, the blood having rusted over to glaze the wound closed, but only just barely. Now that some of the adrenaline had worn off, he knew you must feel the sting, all the cuts and bruises he’s caused you flaring back to life and pulsing with the aftermath of the pain.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he whispers to you as he carefully shifts you over to lay your heavy head on the pillow, venturing into the bathroom to gather all the things he needs to help nurse some of those wounds born from the heat of the moment.

You wait patiently for him to return, blinking open half-lidded eyes to gaze up at him as he reclaimed his seat on the edge of the bed. He praises you as he cleans the bite, tells you what a good girl you were for him, how brave you are when he dabs some disinfectant on the imprint of his teeth and you barely even whimper at the sting of the salve. He looks over your neck, the bruises darkening, and asks you if it still hurts. You shake your head, say you can barely even feel that one, and he hums out a note that alludes to being pleased, but also hints at something secretly prideful as well.

Because who would’ve been able to guess what a high tolerance for pain his perfect little princess hid so skillfully from those around her, a dirty, sinful little secret concealed beneath cute, flouncy little outfits and pretty hair and glossy lips.

But, the best part, it was a tolerance only Ron got to test.

A standard he got to help create.

“I know it hurts, baby…” Ron murmurs as he carefully cleans your sore little hole with a warm washcloth, gently dragging it through your folds to collect all the cum that’s begun to glaze over your skin and harden into salty crystals. “But you’re being so good. Almost done…”

Once he’d dressed you in one of his oversized t-shirts and placed a goodnight kiss to your forehead, Ron tucked you in under a clean blanket and returned to the bathroom to take care of his own mess. He tried to make it quick, knowing there’s a good chance you’d already be asleep before he’s able to curl up next to you, but when he returns and you’re still awake, he can’t help but give you another one of those soft smiles.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he kindly reminded you, though he’s glad you did.

When his chest is pressed to your back, his warm arms wrapped around your middle, you unexpectedly shift to turn and face him. He considered you with a slightly puzzled glance, but then you were leaning forward to press your lips to his, your tongue teasing at one corner of his mouth before pulling back.

“There was a little blood,” you told him, those adorable doe-eyes of yours that could just about hypnotize him glittering in the dark, “but I got it…”

Ron sighed out a tired chuckle through his nose as he tugged you in closer to his chest, letting you get comfortable as you found the right angle to intertwine your legs.

“Night, baby,” he cooed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too…” you replied, already sounding halfway to a dream.

And, as if he ever needed a reminder, Ron falls asleep feeling like the luckiest man alive.

Lucky, because he’s the only one in the entire world who gets to call you his.