#my brain farted out and I can’t think of the others I wanted to tag

[batwynn]

Listen. The moment you get an older than 45 queer romance going in media I’m thrilled and I just don’t gaf if it’s sad, ‘Bad Rep’, light and happy, plot B, not ‘serious enough’, ‘too serious’, Can’t Happen Because One of Them Only is in Love With the Other Inside a Mind Split Work Place, Not Safe For Work, etc. I don’t care. I want it to exist and I will thoroughly enjoy it.

I grew up hearing about all the friends my mom lost in the queer community. I grew up knowing that those people would never have a romance that aged with their bodies. That they’d never have these kinds of stories. That the people who did survive still face hatred and violence just for holding hands in public even after living through this shit for so many years. So, yeah. I want to see the older queer couples in love, ok? I don’t care if it’s not the Young People Aesthetic or ‘Good Representation’ or wtfever. I just don’t care. They deserve to age, and love, and be messy, and be real people, and have stories told about it.

[irisintheafterglow]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)

wc: 1.9k

cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you

note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers. 

“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being. 

“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile. 

“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter. 

“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back. 

“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”

“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”

“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”

“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”

“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon. 

“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”

“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”

“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?

“Look, I’m not interested in any–”

“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello. 

“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”

“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake. 

“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper. 

I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime 

A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you. 

“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.” 

“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine. 

“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.” 

“You want me to workout with you?”

“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.” 

“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”

“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.” 

“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”

“You too. Talk soon, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[ccrites]

Signal Lost

I've had something happen to me that's so incredible and that I could have never hoped, something so touching and so unbelievable that it made me rethink a whole lot of stuff: a wonderful reader on Ao3 started reading my long-form fic (101k words!!!) and commented basically every chapter after a certain point. And wow, I would have never thought something like this might happen.

And yeah, it is my first fic with plot in it, yeah I will never believe it to be perfect, but it's good enough. And receiving all those emails from Ao3 really was the highlight of my days over the course of which I saw said reader slowly go through all my favorite parts!

And so I wish to give it some spotlight here, while I'm finishing up my school year and work and whatever! I will post this here for now, but I will drop chapters every few days and make a Masterlist for it this weekend. (nvm I don't have the energy to do this any time soon lmao) I have too many loose ideas in my head so this is just to pass the time till the brain worms wiggle all in the same direction

So without further ado:

Link to AO3 here : Signal Lost - a John Price x reader fic

----- here's a blurb to pique your interest!

“I don’t think I’ve ever received a document as classified as this one. What am I supposed to do with it, Kate?” he says, dragging his thumb across the pile of papers, each file filled with more ink than the last.

“You asked for proof, there’s your proof,” Laswell says.

“You said you’ll bring someone competent, and who can help us, this doesn’t tell me shit.” He stares blankly at the screen, tired. She stares back.

“The Captain specifically asked to keep this under wraps.”

He rubs at his face, scratching at his beard. It’s getting long again.

“Who is he, anyway?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

He groans again, picking up the file on top. No photo, no name, no age, no height, weight, no nothing . And he thought Simon was secretive.

“What can you tell me?”

“It’s the closest we’ve ever gotten to him. Did things a particular way.”

He shifts through the papers. “And the discharge?”

“Left after the entire team got wiped out. Messy stuff.”

“That why he doesn’t show his face?” He bends forward, grabbing the cigar from the ashtray and bringing it to his lips.

“John.” Her voice carries a heavy warning.

“Just sayin’,” he says, biting around the cigar with one side of the mouth. “What kinda captain doesn’t go down with his men?”

“Got enough guilt as is. You’re lucky I convinced them.”

They both remain silent. They know the missions would be a slippery slope. One wrong move and a war is started. He puffs a cloud of smoke.

“Anything else?” John asks.

Kate looks to the side, her face illuminated by another screen. He can see her hesitate, her lips are pursed in a thin line as if she’s debating her options.

“You’ve worked together before.”

His face lights up. “Finally! Who?”

Her face immediately hardens back up. “Can’t tell, John, my hands are tied.” She sighs. “You were still a Lieutenant.”

Years ago then. He mentally catalogs everyone he’s ever worked with, but he knows that at that age, he was throwing himself at every available mission, wanting to make a name for himself. “So an old fart then? How’s that gonna help us?” If the guy was a Captain when he was still a Lieutenant, and he felt himself grow old, he can’t imagine who Laswell is bringing back from the dead.

Laswell’s face distorts, he knows he’s pushing her buttons, but he has to know.

“Not older than you John.”

His eyebrows raise. “Oh?”

---

or

returning to the military to hunt Makarov is hard enough, to do it with your past lover is even harder. a "friends to lovers to enemies to friends and back to lovers" story

---

Tags and other CW: will be posted for each chapter containing warnings for more hardcore stuff (i.e., torture and angst namely), but this is a fanfic, with smut, so if you want all the tags feel free to check the ao3 link bc there are a LOT and I am lazy to retype them all here

[thedevilishlyangelic]

Tagged!

Tagged by @shadowy-dumbo-octopus

Tagging @platypusafro @gharashambles @deacf-coffee-is-a-sin and anyone else who even thinks about doing this, you’re tagged too!💙 no pressure though!

3 Ships:

Geralt/Regis(witcher): This is the first paring I was introduced to in the witcher fandom years back and it has and never will leave my brain. The monster hunter x monster pairings has my soul in a vice grip and it aint ever letting go. Those two old farts will forever hold a dear spot in my heart.

Dettlaff/witcher oc (witcher): I can’t help but ship my OC Dessi with that sensitive dark hair and brooding vampire because she is the light that will never burn his gentle soul. The games did that man dirty in the dlc at the end. Like how the fuck do you make the manipulated victim the monster and killing him the good ending while saving his lover(human) who practically tortured the vampire by making him believed she was being held ransoms/in danger, so she can make him kill what he believes are innocent people with the lover’s sister being the last(does not quite happen) victim. (I can write a damn paper on how I feel about that dumb deal)

The Commander (OC)/Trahearne (Guild Wars 2) I am so in love with this MMO and when I first met Trahearne and through out the core story as he grows as a leader, I just couldn’t help but imagine how my character would be falling in love with that sweet salad. Still grumpy how they did him in the Heart of Thorns expansion because people wanted to complain. 

First ship

Honestly can’t remember but I know they were self inserts. I know they were with the supposed ‘villains’ of the stories because apparently i’m just like that. Shoot I had a crush on Crowley from supernatural that a friend and I both cowritten our OCs with mine of course with the king of hell. 

Currently consuming:

Soon to be coffee as I got it brewing. (I got distracted with the coffee and then other things happened and didn’t come back to continuing this post till hours later...oops)

Currently watching:

Does watching a game playthrough count? cause it is GOW: Ragnarok but only a lil bit at a time since i’m either working or sleeping. but OMG Kratos growing into being a proper dad and of course I have a soft spot for talkative know-it-alls that support the main character AKA Mimir. 

Last movie:

It was a while back but it was The Old Guard. That shit was amazing, and I need a sequel like PRONTO!

Last song:

Filthy Freaks by Bones UK

Currently reading:

I was reading the witcher series but after the last move, I have all the books packed up and i’m going to move again in a month or so i guess so I just haven’t unpacked them..but I probably should get those books out since my counselor said it would help with my creativity and since reading has always been a positive impact on myself. 

Currently craving:

A really good soup. like eggdrop soup or french onion soup. I’m always in the mood for a soup. Updated, I found some canned Potatoe leek soup and got excited thinking it would taste the same as what I would get in the college dining hall but alas, the cooks would make it from scratch and from a can its only ‘meh’.

[souyaszn]

BIG SHOT! ⁂ [ ryūguji ken ]

18+ content! minor, ageless and blank blogs will be blocked if they interact with this work.

﹡dibble in this n’ drabble in that!

﹡synopsis: strength kink came thru and went bonkers man. i’m so sorry that i’m not sorry.

﹡wc: 927 words.

﹡includes: use of the word cunt. strength kink. dubcon if u squint. mating press. creampies. implicit mentions of squirting. implicit mention of multiple orgasms. one mention of bruising. overall messy sex. man folds you like a pretzel what did you expect to happen?

﹡xtra! this was gonna be titled baki bc i was listening to the trippie redd song, also thought of how baki and ken are both dense as shit, but then big shot by guapdad 4000 played and i said YEAAAAAAAAAAA. and then i got carried away. y’all know how my head dizzies when ken’s involved. btw i started off strong and then my brain started farting so if it sucks near the end have mercy 😮‍💨

﹡tags! @nozomiasl @asilentshout @kawargi @poutsies @kontentious

thinking about the way ken naturally manhandles you. has no idea that the strength and height he’s been using to his advantage since he was twelve years old subconsciously shows its face in the bedroom. on you.

he s w e a r s he’s being gentle when your legs are flailing and your feet hit his chest, a reflex reaction of your body trying to accommodate to him and his heavy cock that tries (correction: trying, succeeding) to bully its way through your walls by its fat tip. just wants to feel the bite of heaven your pussy holds again, craves the sensation of all of his length dragging and pulsing along the velvet grip that massages his cock that’s a guarantee with every stroke, but you won’t. let. him. not even when he asks you nicely, when a low “open up, baby. wanna fuck you properly,” is met with a resistant whine of, “s’too big, ken. can’t take it.”

an answer that’s just… absurd to him. you’ve taken him hundreds, no thousands (maybe millions) of times before, now’s no different.

intends to prove that to you when his thumb touches the glistening skin on your clit, rubbing pressured circles into the nub that has you keening, your pussy weeping and your feet kicking him again, the heel pressing on the pec covering his heart, pedicured toes brushing against his nipple.

but you’re open, just like he knew you could be, and he’s sliding in deeper— every inch of him welcomed, celebrated even with a pulse of wet that has his jaw clenching so hard the teeth grind— so close to bottoming out until you wail, lower limbs flailing blindly until they catch him in the abdomen, right where his scar was. the strength of your kick revives a pain ken thought was long dead, curses tumbling out from his lips one after the other.

strike three.

strong ken whose arms hook beneath the back of your knees to gently redirect your legs up to your chest in a mating press, has your ankles centimeters away from dangling under your ears as earrings. ken who doesn’t realize that his entire body and all of its weight—rippling and tensing muscles flush against you—now looms over you intimidatingly, caging you between him and the mattress, rendering you incapable of evading him.

ken who, with newfound albeit manufactured freedom, bottoms out in seconds, nestling himself to the peak of your pussy and laying a figurative flag there. leaves it there when he draws back, pulling out until he’s almost completely out of your addictive cunt; and shifts its placement whenever he drives back into you, consistently moving the goalpost with every thrust.

ken who, when you cry out, is there to swallow your moans and steal your breath in sloppy clashes of lips, teeth and tongue. your muffled whimpers only give him energy to keep fucking you stupid like this; which is why he only pulls away when he’s out of breath and panting. just makes it easier for him to reset, using those precious seconds to return the spit he took from you during your kisses, combined with his to rest on the back of your tongue in a fat glob of white that disappears as quickly as it landed when you swallow it eagerly, tongue lolling out as if to beg for more.

ken, who stretches your body and your pussy at the same time, cotton candy pink enclosed around his girth like a glove. whose balls slap a percussion beat against your twitching clit whenever he pistons his hips, sop and squelch of your cunt clearly audible regardless of how he’s making you wear your feet as earmuffs.

ken, who knocks into your cervix like it’s in his way and he wants it to move, cock imposing as it curves its way up to, beyond and away from that gummy spot that has your toenails scratching the headboard, and right up to your womb.

ken who couldn’t give a single, solitary fuck about the slick sliding down his shaft and onto his balls (and the sheets), the wetness that’s polishing the inside of your thighs and covering your ass, or the film of white cream that decorates his shaft. he’d already made you cum more times than you can count and squirt for half of that. what he’s focused on now is him, chasing his high as he’s pounding you into the mattress, practically molding the shape of your body into the sheets.

you’re a whole new person by then, begging in soprano squeals for him to go deeper, fuck you harder, stuff you full. ken, who by default, becomes your genie the way he’s exceeding your wishes, promising to do just as you ask and then does that when he thrusts himself all the way up to the hilt. leaves no spot untouched as heaps of his cum coats your walls in hot white streaks, slight grind of his hips sending it right back up your womb the same time you clamp down on him, greedily swallowing the load he’s graciously feeding you, moaning delirious thanks and praises all the while.

ryuguji ken, whose struck by short term memory loss the next day when he sees you limping, genuinely stunned when he offers to eat you out and you all but run out of his arms, complaining that you’re sore and swollen.

was he really that rough with you last night?

[spacelasagna]

School Rivalry AU headcanons

warning: long. So long. 8 pages worth of long.

@music-note120 @smolbisexualmess @coronahamilton1964 @peanutbell I’m tagging you all, space cadets, you made me do this and I love you for it. NO REFUNDS THO.

A while ago I promised some headcanons for [this] and [this], so despite my initial fear of writing and posting anything, now I feel comfortable enough with sharing. I mean, I’ve never met more supportive people.

First of all, I have absolutely no idea what high school football is like (or cheerleading for that matter), my expertise comes only from guilty-pleasure watching Glee. Where I come from school rivalry is not really that popular I think? Or maybe I’m just oblivious, I wouldn’t be surprised. I can pay attention for like half a second before my brain looses connection.

English = hard, I can’t stress that enough. Enjoy!

I mentioned in one comment that the thought process behind Owls design literally involved sitting my dumb bottom cheeks down to google “which animal danger to mole” and internet gods proposed owls, so. My brain farted: “owls occasionally hunt moles, moles=ground, owls=sky, one flies the other doesn’t, amazing, it was meant to be”;

I fiddled with colors for two hours. Canon already showed us that for Moles it’s violet, navy, some gold, then I had to color in Douxie’s varsity jacket and nothing worked. At one point I’ve given up. Black it is, I love black, can’t go wrong with black;

For this AU just remember any 80’s, 90’s, 00’s vibes teenage drama movie you’ve ever watched and it’s probably accurate to what I was going for;

There’s no magic in this AU. No trolls and trollhunters, everything is plain and mundane, Strickler’s the principal at AOH, others probably work there too (Blinky as school’s counselor, Aarghaumont as the sweetest janitor and Draal’s like, a security guard that’s very dedicated to their duty);

Douxie hc:

I don’t really think our emo-kid cares much about sports or this weird popularity contest that determines hierarchy in schools? But again, I blame Glee for athlete Douxie. I really liked this part in Glee where Kurt joined football team, found out how to do things his own way and succeeded because of it (also jocks dancing to Single Ladies, come on). So Douxie embodies best of both worlds in this AU, he’s a humble misfit with artistic soul who also happens to kick like nobody’s business and so he receives lots of kinda unexpected attention from different people, also those he doesn’t particularly want to be associated with;

He tries to be nice to anyone though, while his heart truly belongs on stage and he mostly looks forward to extra-curricular theater rehearsals;

That’s where he met most of his true friends, including Zoe; first year of high school started and they were already breaking rules. They got detention assigned in auditorium, had to sort through a massive pile of props and then clicked with each other instantly, two peas inside a pod doing improv renditions of classic plays, mocking Shakespeare in tacky costumes. Of course the teacher busted them eventually for neglecting their detention duties, but they were more enraptured by their goofing around than mad and instead encouraged them to join drama club;

That’s how Zoe and Douxie became Team Rocket ended up finding their place among other theatre kids;

This Douxie loves freerunning and is surprisingly good at some sports, so by second year his coach made him try out for the team, which Douxie wasn’t thrilled about, but he likes experiencing all sorts of new things, so he hesitated only a little before agreeing to take up Owls’ kicker position;

Zoe had a blast when she heard about it, she was like Janis in Mean Girls, instantly asking for any gossip on Owls’ meatheads/cheerleaders;

She just likes knowing things and holding all the power of information. She keeps tabs on all kinds of people. Mostly for any future revolutions she plans on leading to dethrone bullies at the Academy;

Douxie doesn’t enjoy gossip, but he does share similar opinions with his bestie, so he happily indulges himself in spilling all the tea when they meet up almost every evening at their favorite dingy cheap diner for milkshakes. Then he describes every drama he’s seen or heard of while spending time with his team;

They’re not all that bad people, sometimes just misunderstood big softies or folks too pressured to be someone they don’t want to be, so Douxie tends to stick with those instead. He tries to support them and encourage some soul searching lmao, realize your true potential, Brian, forget about toxic masculinity and let me paint your nails dude;

At one point Zoe and Douxie start a garage band, to reach people’s hearts with their awesome rebellious music and Ash Dispersal Pattern is born;

If wizards&magic are not a thing here then maybe Merlin’s the headmaster at Arcadia Oaks Academy and not many people know that Douxie is actually adoptive son of the principal;

He rocks some serious dark eye circles, he’s having a very complicated relationship with his sleep schedule. Douxie took a part-time job on top of his football practices and drama club activities, while also trying to keep up his good grades. Maybe he overworks himself to make the most of his time. Or maybe he’s just trying to get HIS ADOPTIVE FATHER TO NOTICE HIS EFFORTS Merlin get a grip sheesh;

When overly stressed to the point of almost panicking, he rarely, but still smokes;

Archie’s not a cat, they’re a person now. Archie’s a snobbish librarian working at the Academy that’s more a parental figure to Douxie than Merlin, guiding him, giving advice on various things like asking out a cute cheerleader and offering a nice cup of hot tea every time Douxie comes. Besides drama club, library is the place where Douxie spends most of his time, preferably at later hours;

Douxie just loves the peacefulness, that smell of paper and how empty it gets after sun starts to set outside. Archie even saves Douxie his favorite spot in a far corner, right next to a small window, should he ever feel the need to sit down and wind off;

And Archie often finds this tired boy sunken deeply in a beanbag, right in that corner, so they don’t interrupt him and just cover him with a blanket, letting him nap for however long he wishes;

Nobody questions that Archie practically lives in the school, they’re so mysterious that you make up scary creepypastas about it but don’t dare to actually ask;

Krel hc:

It’s not like it was his dream to become a cheerleader, far from it actually, but his sister insisted that they should do something fun this junior year and sign up to something together. It sounded nice and thoughtful in theory, in reality no one was surprised when she chose cheerleading, considering one of her best friends, Mary, was cheer captain, while her other best friend, Darci, was a mascot;

So Krel got fed up with the idea as soon as it came up and Aja got frustrated too. Then she decided that she won’t pass this chance just because he’s prejudiced, and told him she’ll go for try-outs with or without him;

And obviously he took it personally, because he won’t be spending yet another year being called Kevin by her sister’s many, many friends. Popularity? Sign him in, he’ll get as popular as Aja just to prove a point and then he’s going to have a great summer;

So he goes to those try-outs for cheerleading team with her and knocks those girls’ socks off with his performance, clapping, stomping, throwing in some impressive flips and a split jump for garnish; 

That panic at the janus order disco episode still haunts me to this day (because of that cursed flossin), still, Krel did a handstand AND a frontflip out of nowhere just to show off his sick dance moves so I’d argue he’d make a nice addition to cheerleading squad. There’s some serious flexibility hiding in that body I’m telling you;

He’s actually greatly appreciated among his teammates and most cheerleaders don’t really question his ideas: he helps immensely with choreographing. Where he may lack a little with acrobatics – pulling of complicated stunts is more Aja’s expertise – he makes up with his dancing. He comes up with transitions for their routines, so changing from one pose to another goes more smoothly, which gives their team’s performances a unique vibe;

They’re also trusting him with choosing their music. His feel of the rhythm is inexplicable and he can easily remix anything to fit more with team’s ideas. It helped with refreshing and elevating their whole repertoire;

Cheers that Mary writes for them are unmatched;

At first Mary’s like “ew” towards him, cause he’s that insignificant nerd with an attitude and even when she was spending time with Aja at their house she purposefully ignored his forgettable existence;

They bicker a lot during practices because they’re both very stubborn and have strong opinions about, well, everything, then they argue just for the sake of arguing;

Before any of them noticed a shift in their relationship Krel and Mary were already almost inseparable at school;

She started noticing Krel probably after he loudly told off some gossipers for spreading ugly rumors about Mary’s love life (and for using slurs while at it, gross). She’s THE Queen Bee of AOH, so she had to grow a thick skin, yeah? She doesn’t need anyone’s protection, she’s used to hate comments, she has to handle trolls every day. She has a reputation to uphold, she build that flirty, overconfident and very comfortable with her body persona to make a statement, no one will bring her down with some pitiful remarks about her dating history just to gain some attention;

In Krel’s book she shouldn’t have had to get used to any of this judgmental crap in the first place, whether those gossips really bother her or not. They’re still vile and hearing them makes his ears bleed, so he gladly calls out people for their filth, making a whole spectacle of it;

Mary’s honestly touched the first time it happens, it’s nice to have someone in your corner for a change even if you don’t really expect it, least of all from a guy that doesn’t seem to pay much attention to anything he can’t explain with equations and numbers;

There’s no greater pleasure than standing up to bullies and ignorant buffoons so they start doing it together with Darci now;

Mary still calls him Kevin tho even though she remembers her new bestie’s name perfectly fine;

Mary made Krel’s school career her personal project. There you go, Kevin, I’m going to make you a Shining Star of Arcadia Oaks High, thank me later when they’ll crown you their King;

Now she comes to their house to visit Krel as well, they play videogames a lot and, of course, banter in the meantime. She loves teasing Krel about Douxie, him crushing on anybody is a gem;

Their friendship is pure chaos and dragging Krel to participate in social events he absolutely doesn’t want to partake in;

(“Remember Kevin, our goal is to actually make you popular, so less whining and more smiling.”);

(“Oh god no stop smiling that is horrific.”);

He doesn’t actually care for popularity, making some unexpected friendships was more than enough already;

With those baggy clothes and headphones and having actual hoverboard in canon, you can’t convince me Krel wouldn’t be a sk8ter boi on top of being a cheerleader;

He swears. A lot. I signed the petition to let Krel freely use his favorite f-word;

You’d think that between Krel and Douxie it’s most likely for the latter to find or cause trouble, but no, it’s actually Krel. He’s just always so stubborn and arrogant enough that when you try to limit his creative processes with rules or just tell him he shouldn’t be doing something, he’ll most definitely find a way to do exactly that and then more. He’s just that set on proving you wrong. And he has an issue with authority, just let him experiment and work on his own terms or don’t even bother interrupting;

Zoe absolutely loves this about him and unapologetically takes advantage of it, easily convincing him to join in on her shenanigans. She’s like: “bet you can’t hack into my principal’s computer” and Krel just gives her his most unamused look, already reaching for his laptop and cracking his knuckles with “This is child’s play, give me a real challenge”. Then Douxie’s chuckling a little, saying: “You know this is actually breaking the law, right?” and to celebrate Krel’s famous ‘your mom’ joke he doesn’t even look up when he instantly replies with “Your face breaks the law” then there’s this short pause and he actually looks at Douxie, adding “I meant it as a compliment obviously, your face looks really nice, Doux.” and he goes back to typing furiously;

Last but not least, Krel and Aja are rich kids living in a mansion with their weird but loving uncle Varvatos who took custody of them after their parents died;

Their relationship hc:

It took months of stealing curious glances, bumping into one another and exchanging a total of maybe ten words at games and joint practices for the two of them to finally have a real conversation;

It happened after one of their games. Owls won, but Douxie didn’t feel like a winner at all – Merlin was supposed to be there and watch, he promised, but yet again he didn’t show up excusing himself with too much work. And Douxie was so done with excuses that this one time he couldn’t bring himself to shrug it off, so he didn’t bother with pretending that he was fine with it. It was nighttime already, they all changed back into their casual clothes and showered, his teammates went to celebrate their win, shouts slowly dissipated and the crowd dispersed – blinding lights went off, making the whole stadium look almost pitch black and abandoned. Douxie stayed behind and waited patiently, so when everything went quiet as if the winning match never happened, he sat down in now empty bleachers, pulled out his headphones, turned on some music and just, allowed himself to breathe;

That’s when Krel comes in. In all the commotion he left behind his hoodie, so he went to get it before going home. He saw some creep sitting high up in empty bleachers with his hands buried deep down into his varsity jacket, then recognized the creep to be this weird boy from rival team that doesn’t quite fit one’s idea of a football player;

Which was perfectly fine, he preferred weirdos anyway;

And normally he’d just ignore him and mind his own business, but with that resigned posture he just looked so heartbreakingly sad that Krel decided to risk it and make it his business after all;

So he slowly approached him and sat down next to him, minding Douxie’s personal space, but he didn’t say anything to him;

They sat like that in silence for a minute or three before Krel poked him lightly and asked what was he listening to;

Instead of answering, Douxie just pulled out one of his headphones and offered it to Krel, not really expecting him to take it;

But he did, allowing himself to scoot closer. And that’s it, they just shared Douxie’s headphones and listened to his music in silence, each one too deep into their own thoughts to bother with starting meaningless chit-chat. Douxie occasionally side-glanced at Krel who was bobbing his head and tapping his fingers against any hard surface perfectly to the rhythm while keeping his eyes closed;

After an hour or so Krel poked Douxie once again and asked if they could switch to his phone now, so Douxie shrugged and nodded, because why not, it was only fair after the boy listened with him to all of his music without complaining;

But after plugging out Douxie’s headphones, Krel just tossed them aside and put his playlist on speaker. He stood up and started actually dancing in front of him, maneuvering through empty benches and even daring to do some handstands. He didn’t stop until he finally made Douxie laugh;

He definitely did not notice Douxie’s tongue piercing then;

And now that he achieved loosening the boy up, they turned off the music completely and started talking instead. They were still strangers so it was supposed to be awkward, but after those two hours spent on simply existing near one another, sharing songs in peace and quiet – it didn’t feel awkward nor forced at all;

To Douxie’s surprise Krel stayed with him for the whole night. They spread out on benches in some odd positions that would later result in major back hurting and talked for hours about nothing in particular, easily falling into comfortable silence before jumping right to a new topic;

At one point they lied down together on that artificial turf and stargazed. Then stayed like that till sunrise. And finally Douxie told Krel all about his troubles, why he stayed after the game instead of celebrating with Owls, how he felt disappointed with Merlin but also kinda worthless himself because of it, like what he did wasn’t good enough for Merlin to pay attention, like he won’t ever be enough to make him genuinely proud;

Krel didn’t push for any answers, he just listened. When they gathered their stuff and finally decided to call it a day, Krel’s parting words for Douxie were “Next time I’ll cheer for you, how about it?”. And maybe it wasn’t much, but it meant the world to Douxie;

Then Krel told him to be proud despite whatever his adoptive father thinks, because he did great at that game. Though maybe he shouldn’t say that to his enemy, considering that his team lost because of Douxie being too good at his job. But eh, whatever, he’s earned that praise for being so impressive;

Douxie did not blush;

(“Go treat yourself to some chocolate chip cookies, loaded nachos and a well deserved nap. Emphasis on napping, Doux, you look like hell.”);

(“Why, thank you, darling.”);

They started talking much more after that night;

Krel wouldn’t know how to flirt to save his life. He’s so used to saying all the time that he doesn’t get everyone’s fixation on dating and romance – he’s not oblivious, he just doesn’t care. Douxie knows it, yet sometimes Krel just says the loveliest things to him with such blatant honesty it puzzles Douxie even more than any flirting he has ever experienced. Because he doesn’t expect Krel to compliment his looks or make any affectionate gestures towards him, every time it happens Douxie’s brain just fries, because Krel is not trying to hit on him, he’s just saying exactly what he thinks of him and how being near him makes him feel;

And Krel likes him. So much, it’s stupid;

Krel’s a capital A-hole (or simply leaves impression of being one) to almost anyone who’s not his recently discovered crush, so their more or less mutual acquaintances sometimes ask Douxie how a guy like him, charismatic and selfless,  can stand such an evil gremlin like Krel. And Douxie’s genuinely confused, saying: “What are you talking about, he dropped by my school this morning just to give me coffee, he’s the sweetest angel.”; 

Just imagine Krel getting up to a text from Douxie that he didn’t get much sleep last night and he is now tired out of his mind. So right before his classes start, Krel runs up to meet with him by the Academy’s entrance and then gives Douxie his usual coffee & blueberry-muffin order, saying something like “Here, some carbs and your gross satan’s puke, how can you even drink this”. He hates coffee, just the smell of it makes him almost hurl, he’s grumpy about it, but he knows Douxie enjoys it and he’ll need all the energy to survive till practice, so without second thought he just makes a stop by Douxie’s favorite coffee shop. He barely has time for any conversation, so right after giving him everything he quickly makes his way back, jumps on his skateboard and almost vaults himself over the railing in a hurry, because Arcadia High is not as close to the Academy as one might hope, especially when you also have morning classes. Meanwhile Douxie just stands there alone with a dumb love-struck look on his face till the bell rings, hopelessly smitten with Krel. Yep, the sweetest angel;

Mary, Krel, Aja and couple of other cheerleaders (along with Darci obvs) sometimes stay behind after their training to watch Moles and Owls joint practice. They occupy one corner of the whole field to sit down, play some music, talk, gossip, and wolf whistle at sweaty bois. At one point Mary and Krel start showing off to their teammates, doing jumps, cartwheels and flips for funsies, trying to one-up the other, and Douxie suddenly gets very distracted by those violet booty shorts;

It takes his coach screaming right into his ear and commenting on getting his head in the game to finally have Douxie stop staring and get back to practice. The cheer squad all giggles knowingly while some of Douxie’s teammates just look at him sympathetically, the poor boy’s so obvious;

At their games when Moles’ cheerleading routine ends, Krel straight up waves at Douxie while still standing in formation and trying to catch his breath. And Douxie absentmindedly waves back, wearing the dopiest grin on his face, red from his neck to the top of his ears. It’s ridiculous, he pays no mind to Owls’ cheerleaders, but instead feels motivated to crush this game with Krel’s one smile;

So he kicks that ball like it personally offended him, scoring points for accuracy and style, cause you know, you gotta impress that crush who has to watch the game anyway whether he enjoys sports or not really;

And Krel is very impressed, just let him run his fingers along Douxie’s chiseled chest and ohmigod that back carved in marble—uh. Suddenly developing appreciation for fine arts, yes; 

As established, of course they both think the other one’s attractive, but Krel wouldn’t catch feelings based on looks alone, c’mon. He favors Douxie above other humans, because his determination matches his own – he never met someone as driven as him, not afraid of taking risks to achieve their goals. Douxie’s loyal to a fault and he’s so patient with him, so sweet and attentive, while everyone else, even his sister, tends to treat him like temper-tantrum throwing kid that has to be restrained. Douxie doesn’t, he’s always willing to listen, doesn’t jump to conclusions, doesn’t easily take offense and he actually admires Krel for his unabashed confidence, even more so when he learns that it may be a facade to hide his own insecurities and doubts that frustrate him, cause he feels he has to prove himself, otherwise he won’t be acknowledged and won’t ever leave other people’s shadow. Krel’s exceptionally smart and his snarky humor is so on point, his retorts are more funny and clever than vicious. If he cares for something or someone, he does it like he does everything else – with clear intent, with all his heart. What’s not to love about the boy?;

So yeah, they both feel like they have to show their superiors what they’re truly capable off, always underestimated, so they bonded over finding comfort in music and being convinced that they won’t ever live up to people’s expectations. Upon realizing that, they both thought at that moment “what the hell, this needs to change, I’ll show him he’s actually too good for any of this, he deserves the world”. Inside, Krel’s all like ‘who hurt you gorgeous, I’ll evaporate them out of existence three generations backwards’ then he and Zoe spam Merlin’s work e-mail with scam offers from hundreds anonymous accounts;

Krel doesn’t really get the appeal of pet names because most of them just sound too cringy, but he pays no mind to Douxie calling him “darling”, even before they started seriously dancing around each other;

Though on occasion he’ll mockingly ‘darling’ him back, just to see that tall guy fluster; 

One time it just thoughtlessly slips from Krel’s lips and he calls Douxie “starlight” and Douxie starts glowing with all the excitement, so the pet name stays;

AND FINALLY some random dialogues because why not:

-one, fanart related-

Krel: What?

Douxie: Nothing, darling.

Krel: *gum popping*

Douxie: Just admiring your bow.

Krel: Is that so? Then you may wear it for your next game.

Douxie: I... That’s not...

Krel: It’s only fair, I get the jacket, you get the bow.

Douxie: You’re teasing me, aren’t you?

Krel: Of course I am, darling.

Krel: But for the record, I think you’d look ridiculously attractive with it.

And Douxie just, gives up. He flares up and hides his face, he can’t handle Krel when he’s being like this.

-two, probably after Krel called someone out for their bs-

Douxie: You can be pretty scary when you want to be.

Krel: Which is all the time basically, yeah.

Douxie: It’s kinda hot.

Krel: You’re the only person who’d think that.

Douxie: Fortunately so. I wouldn’t be able to fight off all of your suitors otherwise.

Douxie: Not that I wouldn’t try to anyway.

Krel: Doux, if I wanted a meathead that picks up fights I’d date Steve. 

Douxie: Then you’d have to fight your sister.

Krel: And Pepperjack.

Douxie: And Pepperjack.

-three, before game-

Krel: Hunt them down, starlight.

Douxie: You know Owls are competing against your school tonight, yeah?

Krel: Sure, and? Your win is my win, basically.

Douxie: My role on the field is not that important really, darling.

Krel: It’s important to me though, so just literally and figuratively kick their sorry asses.

Steve: STOP ENCOURAGING OUR ENEMIES, KREL, I SWEAR YOU’RE THE WORST CHEERLEADER--

Krel: Well that depends on one’s perspective.

AND WE’RE DONE. ✺◟( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)◞✺

I don’t truly dislike Merlin and I don’t think he’s that bad of a person, I just really enjoy jumping on his hate-train. High five to Zoe.

And Steve’s definitely Moles’ quarterback or something, being team cap and dating Aja-the-star-cheerleader, so together they make that picture perfect couple. Aja doesn’t mind Steve’s passionate bromance with Eli. 🏈❤️

if anyone wants to make any fanwork inspired by this i’ll marry them or at least promise them my firstborn child

no but seriously, feel free to interact with me, I’d love to know your headcanons for them as well!

Uh... are people going to unfollow me now that they know I’m uncool??? Please come back I’m sorry I can change

[buttsmasher]

Smell of an Alpha

[The fantastic @one-inch-chick submitted the photo that gave me this idea. BTW if you haven’t checked out his art yet, you should do so, he’s extremely talented. Feel free to check out the photo here.]

Warnings/Tags: Face Farting, Gay Farting, Willing Victim, Teasing, Pass out from Farting, Cumming from Farting

You try not to stare as Demarcus runs around the track. But the way his ass moves up and down in those tight pants is just purely erotic. You can’t not stare, and you know you can’t be the only one. No man should have an ass that fat and so hypnotic. You just try to take a peek and next thing you know, you dick is straining in your trainers as you’ve watched him run two laps.

You firmly shut your eyes and put your head in your hands so there’s absolutely no way you can keep staring. You keep willing your boner to go away so you can go back to stretching and start your morning jog, but your mind keeps wandering to Demarcus’s massive ass. You can’t help but imagine having him sit straight down onto your face after running all day in this terrible heat.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You say absentmindedly as you ball your hands into fists. “Come on man, get yourself together.” You gave your cheeks two slaps before jumping up and bouncing from foot to foot. Your eyes are still closed and by some miracle your boner has decided to leave. But when you open your eyes, you freeze.

Demarcus is currently in front of you bent over touching his toes, his ass in perfect view. Your mouth falls open and you can feel drool starting to drip out of your mouth. His ass is just...perfect. There’s no other word for it, and you just want to know what it feels like. Your body takes a step closer to where he’s currently stretching. You have no control over yourself as you move on auto-pilot. 

You watch as your hand reaches out and smacks his sizable ass. Then your hand grasps his right cheek and you shake it. His ass fills your hand completely and you can smell his musky body from where you’re standing. Your eyes go up his back and you come eye to eye with him. He’s giving you a confused look as he looks down at your hand and then back up to you and he gives you the most shit-eating grin.

“You havin’ fun?” He asks knowingly.

“Uh-uh I-I-” You fumble for words as you snatch your hand away. “Wh-why did I do that?” 

“It’s alright bud.” He claps your shoulder. “You’re not the first fag to get overwhelmed by me.” 

“I’m-uhh-” You clear your throat “not a fag?” You don’t know why it comes out as a question but it makes Demarcus laugh. 

“Look man,” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. “I know I have a great ass. I ain’t blind. And what kind of human would I be if I didn’t let a fag get off to my ass every now and then.” He moves a hand of yours so it’s touching his glutes. 

“Uh thanks?” 

“You’re welcome.” His smile is very confusing, a bit cocky but also a bit genuine. You’re not too sure what to make of it. You both stand there quietly as he continues to let you grope his ass. He then slowly moves your hand over his crack.

PFFFFFFF

You stare at him in horror as you realize he just farted on your hand. 

“Well I have to get going.” He looks at an imaginary watch. “See ya around?” You stare at your hand and then back at him then back at your hand.

“Yeah-well maybe?” Your confusion makes him laugh and you watch as he walks away.

“See ya tomorrow fag!” He gives a wave and you wave back even though he’s not even looking at you. 

“Tomorrow? Yeah.” You mumble the words not really registering with you. All you can focus on is your hand. You slowly bring it up to your nose and you take a small whiff. Your eyes go cross as his lingering ass funk fills your nose. You need to get home now!

You rush back to your car to head home, totally forgetting to even do your workout. The only thing you can focus on is how his ass felt as you squeezed and how amazing that fart smelt on your hand. You can’t even wait to get home and end up having to stop on the side of the highway to rub one out. You end up cumming in your boxers and by the time you get home it’s all gross and dried.

You plant your face against your steering wheel to catch your breath. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You sigh.

*****The Next Day*****

You’re embarrassed to say that you came back the next day just to see Demarcus in action again. Not even pretending to do a workout today, you try to hide in an inconspicuous spot where you don’t think he’ll be able to notice you. You even bring binoculars with you. 

Shit, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are a fag.

You’re looking through them, trying to find any sign of him when finally you see him exit the locker rooms and head out to the track. This time he’s wearing a tighter pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. 

You take a big gulp, trying your best not to let your mind get overwhelmed with even more inappropriate thoughts. You can’t lie though, you came about 5-7 times last night from different scenarios you would beg Demarcus to try. But right now, this is probably the best you’ll get.

You spy as Demarcus stretches on the side of the track. Again his ass is in perfect view and your dick is quickly tightening your pants. He lifts his leg up to his butt and holds it for a moment and then does the other before he finally starts jogging around the track. You notice he seems to be going slower than yesterday and in his second lap you can see himself fanning his face like he smelled something bad. 

Your mind immediately goes back to one of your mastubatory dreams from last night where he loads you up with his manly gas. The thoughts make your dick thoroughly strain against your boxers and you try your best to think of anything else. 

Demarcus stops in front of you, maybe 20 feet away from your hiding spot. He puts his hands on his knees and takes a couple of deep breaths.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

From your vantage point, you can hear him releasing terrible torrents of gas. “Fuck.” He says pretty loudly as he rubs his stomach. “What did they put in that protein shake?” Demarcus stretches to the left and then to his right and makes eye contact with you. You see his pained face turn into a mischievous smile. 

“Well hey there fag face!” He says standing upright. You give a short wave back as he walks towards you. “Were you here hiding from me?” 

“Nooo.” You say unconvincingly. “I just like-uh-being one with nature.” 

“Sure you do.” You see his right eye twitch.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

“I’m telling ya man, I’ve got the worst gas today.” He pats his stomach a couple times.

“Yeah I can, uhh, hear that.” 

“If only there was a fag ‘round here, that would graciously sniff these butt blasts so I don’t have to smell them.” You gulp, he couldn’t possibly mean you could he. “Do you know one?” You shake your head no. “You sure?” You nod. “Well if you find one, tell him I’ll be in the locker rooms.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” You whisper-yell as Demarcus jogs back towards the direction of the locker rooms. You argue with yourself whether or not you’re going to go. “I have to go.” You stand upright. “I have to.” You quickly jog after Demarcus.

When you get to the locker room, you see Demarcus bending over the bench and letting out soft groans.

PFFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFF PFFFFFFFFFF

He’s still letting out farts and you can’t stop yourself from walking up behind him and getting on your knees. Demarcus notices you and makes a show of shaking his ass. “Couldn’t stay away couldya?” You sheepishly shake your head no and you take a loud inhale of his musky ass. “It’s alright, all you fags need to learn at some point.” He moves his hand behind your head and holds you firmly against him. “You can’t resist an alpha.”

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

You’re subjected to the pure manly stank of him. It’s raw and terrible and it makes your eyes water. He strongly smells of rotten eggs and you have to ask yourself how you got yourself in this situation. You don’t fight him though, you just stay there taking deep whiffs of his ass funk. 

“There you go, breathe me in.” Your mouth slightly falls open. “Let my ass control your thoughts.” His voice is so calm and addicting, you fall into a trance. “Deep breath.” You take a large inhale.

PFBRBRBBFFFFTTTT PFFF

He times the farts perfectly making sure you get a lungful of his toxic fumes. “Yeah, like that. Breathe me in fag.” You take another large breath not wasting any of the rotten garbage he’s releasing from his ass. 

He lets go of the back of your head. “Lay down for me fag.” 

“Yes sir.” You obey laying down on the rough concrete floor.

“Good fag.” He squats down over your face, his ass not quite touching you.

PFFFFFFFBRBRB PFFFFFFF PFFFF PBFBFBF PFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFF

“Aww fuck.” He sighs in relief and you push your head against his clothed ass again. “You like how that smells?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Yes Alpha.” He corrects.

“Yes alpha.” 

“What’s it smell like?”

PRFFFBFFFTTT PFFFFFFTTTT

“Old eggs. Rott-rotten sewage?” You struggle to put a coherent thought together, your fag brain blissed out. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please alpha, give me more.” You beg and you hear him chuckle. 

“Anything for you faggot.” You watch as he pulls his shorts down so you’re staring at his bare ass. He finally puts his full weight on you by sitting down straight onto your face.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTTT

“That’s just for you fag. So make sure you get it all in your fag lungs.” 

“It smells so good, alpha.” Your brain is empty with the only thought to serve him. 

“You fags are so easy. One whiff of a man, and here you are. Begging me for my nasty farts. You’re as bad as a pig. You know that right? You’re a pig, fag.”

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFFFTTT

You know he’s right. You should be disgusted, but seriously you’re so fucking hard you’re scared that you’re about to unload in another pair of your boxers. Your eyes are rolled back in pleasure as you inhale everything he gives you.

“I bet I could make you cum from this.” He waggles his hips, making sure you’re bounced between both of his cheeks. “Think you could cum from me farts piggy?” You fevisherly nod your head yes, and he laughs. “Fucking pathetic.” He gets out between laughs. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

And there it is. You’re seeing stars as you start shooting your load in your boxers.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFTT

His ass doesn’t let up as your back arches from the amount of cum you’re shooting. It’s probably one of the best orgasms that has rocked your body.

PFFFFFBRBRBFFF PBBBFFFFFFFFFFFF

Fart after fart gets let loose to the point that you go from seeing stars to everything going black from lack of fresh air.

“Alpha.” You struggle.

“Nighty night piggy.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT

Everything goes black as your head falls lax onto the concrete floor. The worst smelling fart knocks out any remaining fresh air that you had left. Demarcus gets up leaving you on the floor to marinate in his stink. When you do finally wake up, you find his scent still lingering all over you and your shorts are sticky from dried cum.

You can’t help it that your hand snakes its way down to your dick and you start jacking off to the lingering scent of the alpha. It’s natural for a piggy to love the stink, especially a piggy fag like you.

[gojcsatoru]

hi there !! congrats on the new blog, im really excited to see it grow and read the amazing stories you’ll post ! could i maybe ask for some sweet gojo headcanons with a s/o a little younger than him, maybe 20/24, nothing too extreme ofc. take as much time as you need for the requests, and I hope you have a wonderful day !!

GOJO SATORU WITH A YOUNGER GN!S/O

tag(s): fluff

the age gap isn’t even be an issue because of how playful and energetic gojo is–– at times, you actually feel like the older one in the relationship. he’s always teasing you, running around doing stupidly adorable things, sticking his tongue out when he doesn’t get his way...

but you’re also more mature for your age as well. you have to deal with the inevitability of death and, if you’re not a fellow sorcerer, the reality that the world is full of monsters that you can’t see

gojo loves teasing you–– your pet names are “[his] baby”, “snookums”, “princess/little prince”, “buttercup”... the cheesiest things on earth. but it’s just so cute and he loves treating you like something precious

but he loves it the most because it riles you up!!! and seeing you trying to square up to the strongest sorcerer in the world is just hilarious to him

sometimes he’ll call you “kiddo” just to get under your skin even though you’re literally over 20 lmfao

he ruffles your hair a lot and loves squishing your cheeks together 🥰 you’re babie to him

gojo is quite protective of you but he won’t stop you from living your life and he’s also not overbearing. plus, he likes an s/o who’s got spunk and independence

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry 🥺

even if you’re a special-grade sorcerer he knows can hold their own (and expertly so) against special-grade spirits, whenever he hears that you’re going on a mission without him, his entire body tenses. his brain is like, “satoru. they’re literally the same grade as you. they’re going to be okay.” but he just doesn’t want to lose you–– you’re so... soft and tender and loving and young

if you’re not a sorcerer, gojo is way more protective. he doesn’t necessarily think you’ll get attacked while he’s gone (unless there’s been some political turmoil happening amongst the spirits involving gojo himself...) but he just always worries that you’ll get yourself caught in the middle of an area with cursed activity

“if you sense anything wrong––”

“turn around and leave and call you, yeah, yeah i know, you old fart.”

omg if you call him “old man” or “fossil” or make age jokes he gets SO OFFENDED lmaooo his jaw literally drops. get ready to be tickled to death or given the cold shoulder until you beg for forgiveness LOL

you tell him that it looks like he’s got a few more white hairs than usual and gojo spends the rest of the day acting like he’s geriatric

“satoru can you pass me that jug of water?”

“no i need them for my daily vitamins. the doctors say i need to take them to prevent losing bone density.”

or you give him a kiss and he’s like “wow. the taste of youth.” 

if you complain about anything he just crosses his arms and goes “back in my day..” PLEASE 😭😭😭

if you’re less experienced with love and romance, get ready to learn because before you came around, gojo was a real playboy

he teaches you how to kiss properly. with tongue. where to put your hands. what guys like while making out and... other things 👀

i don’t see gojo as someone rushing to get married–– so he’ll happily wait for you to reach that point in your life when you’re comfortable settling down

again, the age gap doesn’t even feel like a thing with gojo. he’s just so spirited and playful and literally emits youthful energy that it almost never comes up

except when you get him a giant, chunky vintage 80s mobile phone that unfolds at the bottom and has antennae at the top for christmas and go “i saw this and thought of you 💖”

LMAOOO

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x16)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 16: You Picked the Wrong Weakness

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: did someone just go and tell the otp about the otp?

Word Count: you know that feeling when you have had a bad experience on some project or assignment or homework before. And you know that thing is going to come around again next month or something like that. And you just age yourself by giving yourself anxiety by thinking everything that could go worse in that area. Yeah. So, I kinda shut that off for a few hours and wrote this.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The Interview Room The camera is recording empty seats as a pair of voices grow louder with every second. "...it's like they don't even care about what the other person wants!" "...no, why would they. These rich daddies and their rich egos think they are the only ones thinking about the world." The camera swivels a bit to watch Peter and Scott enter with a new guest following them with a Caprisun in their hand. Peter: And why did you have to go ahead and help them? Shuri: *sits between Scott and Peter* *takes a long sip of her 'sun* What. I'm not going to give up any opportunity that involves space and weird energy boxes. Peter: Why did your brother even agree to it?? Shuri: *shrugs* all your sugar daddy had to say was 'what if it was Shuri'. And my thicc-head of a brother lost it like a rhino in a mating challenge. Peter: *scrunches his nose at the example* Scott: Great *sigh* now we'll never get to see them together. With your brains, those dads are probably already in space now. Shuri: Not so fast! They don't have the codes to neutralise the pandora's box yet. Peter and Scott: *look at each other*  Shuri: So teleportation might be delayed as long as I am kept happy?  Peter: *takes out a notebook* Scott: *takes out his phone and a card labelled Avengers Black Card* The camera pans in on a smirking Shuri sipping on her Capri sun.

Inside a Spaceship: Destination Unknown You and Loki were captured by the little drone flying at the same speed as the spaceship (which clearly had seen some remodelling, thanks to your rainbow buddies). Both of you were staring at something in front of you that lids by your waist level- something the outside drone was not able to capture because of the limited view in the spaceship window. The expressions on your face were serious. So was the arms-crossed stance. "Are you sure it wasn't just a noise?" Loki now had a finger on his lips in deep thought as he heard your words. "I am pretty sure of what I heard," he acknowledged without missing a beat. "So-" your voice faded as your fingers twirled in the air with a mind of their own- "that means he has...another..." "You really can't say it?" Loki looked at you with a questioning brow going up quite smoothly. You tsked. "It's my baby," you mentioned while Javier's camera watched you point down at slumbering Lulu. "I cannot just casually say he might have another hole and I think he farted through it. I cannot hurt my baby's feelings!" Loki scoffed. "Your baby's sleeping." "He still has ears." "You think he understands what a fart means?" "What do you think I've been teaching him when you, me or Javi pass the gas?" Loki's casual demeanour suddenly changed to an offended one. "I beg your pardon?" You were quick on your feet, already walking towards the front of the ship. "So, where exactly are we heading now? Aellae's next of kin? Though I find it hard to imagine she would have left your essence with anyone other than herself." Loki came and sat next to you, still pissed at that comment in those narrowed eyes. "I am going to circle back to your words-" he inhaled while you acted all innocent- "and no. We are not looking for anyone related to that witch." "Then are we looking for another one of your exes?" "No, we are n-" Loki stopped short, his lips right in a thin line as he stared at you. "Why are you so interested my exes?" You simply shrugged and raised your brows. "On the contrary, it seems your exes are still pretty interested in you." That casual expression turned into a familiar judgment as your head turned to look at him. "Though I wonder what did they find so-" you hands moved haphazardly- "interesting about you." Loki swivelled his captain seat towards you, locking your legs between his while grounding your armrests with his hands. Clicking the control button on your armrest, he moved your chair a bit closer to him, his face in close proximity to yours. Javier's camera panned in on the gulp moving down your throat while your eyelids did a flutter at this uncalled movement. The 4K caught those goosebumps rising right where his arm barely grazed yours and in the background, Lulu played an arousing violin piece. "Something you can only dream about, darling," he whispered. The violin picked up the charge in the air within its quick clean high notes. The only noise leaving you was the escape of the air stuck in your throat, shivering on its way out. "Of c-" you cleared your throat. trying to sit back up in your seat- "of course I can only fantasize. The reality makes me want to puck. Ugh!"

Loki: Y/N thinks space is all fun and games. What she does not realise is that just like earth, this universe too has an underworld. Ten times in size and twenty times as brutal. And Aellae was just the tip of the filthy iceberg. *camera zooms in on his tensed features* looks into the distance* Wonder who else she told about her. *looks back* *blinks* I'm taking her somewhere we can lie low for now. *rolls eyes* that is if she understands what lying low means. *sighs* 

You: *eating bread like a peasant famished for days* Hm? What? No *shakes head* 'm nod nerbous. *takes another bite* debinidly nod becoz o doki. He wash jus playing wee me. *viciously bites into the bread* *growls and buries head in your lap* 

"I am still telling you to ask for their help. It's not too late," you suggested in a composed manner, sitting in the co-pilot seat. "I am not calling seven alien boys just because you have a fetish for Korean pop bands." You thwacked his leg with yours. "I do not! And don't you dare talk shit about k-pop." Loki chuckled. "Why? What are going to do?" "I won't. But you know what k-pop fans are like, don't you?" The smile on Loki's face suddenly started to flicker away as he looked at the camera. "Remember that Vegas trip?" Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself on his seat, while you shared a devilish smirk with the camera. "We're going somewhere safe. Where I have a chance of getting my powers back and hopefully a gateway back to earth." You sat up. "Why didn't we go there in the first place?" Loki blinked, not really answering. You and the camera noticed the tension in his jaw. "It's not a place I like to talk about." The asteroid belt cleared in front of the spaceship to show the part of a planet covered in grey clouds shadowing frozen blue mountains and dark valleys. "Jotunheim," you whispered to yourself, letting the gloomy yet majestic scenery of the place reflect in your eyes. “Loki,” all humour in your voice seemed to dilute as you looked back at home, “we don’t have to go there. We-uh...we could go to one of Peter’s hideouts? Or maybe we could call the Boys and ask them to direct us to one of their safe places? You know, till we find a lead on your essence.” A smirk built upon the God's lips. "Is that concern I hear in your voice?" Those worry-laden brows suddenly dispersed all emotion to make way for anger. A slap made way from your hand to his right side of the back. The thwack was loud enough to wake Lulu and force a sincere 'ow' from the God's throat. "This concern is for me and my babies you awful animal," you growled, your voice considerably higher, "you think they'll survive there?"

Jotunheim If the mountains seemed to carry an eerie aura about them, the valleys were a straight suggestion of being pits straight to hell. To add to the effects of arriving at the gates of hell, the snow falling was harsh, to say the least. As soon as the door to the ship opened to let all the passengers feel the heat, the drone travelling outside took in travellers covered in thick fur. Javier carried Lulu on his front, both of them visible just with their faces- not to mention the former's blue eyes standing out over everything else in his surroundings. Loki too embraced the thick skin, looking quite the part of a Jotun till he picked up the hood of your coat to put it over your head without saying much; only smiling when you looked like a fluffed up birb in that Viking overcoat.

Loki: *smiling sheepishly**looks at you standing next to him* Angry birb *looks back at Javier's camera* Sam taught me that one. *camera pans at you simmering under that fur*

Lulu had already picked the background music for his pack's entrance. The Viking beat had just the right amount of weight and horror of the unknown in it as this place did. Just ahead of the pass lay the structure carved in the mountain itself. It could be called a palace or a temple. But that was not what sought your attention.  Eyes. The camera caught eyes in the dark staring at the unwanted guests. Blue. Piercing. Murderous. And more than one pair. The drone panned in on that one subconscious movement of your fingers gripping the fur of the coat on Loki's back as the God walked gallantly- as if he owned the planet. But your eyes did not stop to observe the alien movement around you. "Remember-" Loki's whisper brought you out of the daze your own thumping heart was creating for you- "do not show them your fear. Show them that you are to be feared." It may have been his words or just his voice that started to melt the fear visible on your features, lasting for five seconds before a loud thump vibrated the land beneath your feet, making you all come to a stop. And when that was not enough, the audience saw the feet first, then the legs and then the whole length of a Jotun appearing before them. Some necks were really going to feel it tonight.

"Who dares enter the land of Jotunheim?" came the thundering and low growl from the Jotun that stood towering over you all. "The one who is alive and stands on this land," Loki announced, "with the blood of Laufey in my veins, I have come to claim what is mine." There was nothing but an uninviting smirk on the Jotun's face. "I am Loki, son of Laufey, son of Odin, ruler of Asgard and your King," he commanded with ice in his voice, "and you...need to bow...before your King." The dead silence proceeding his threat of a speech was enough for you nearly bury you inside your own overcoat. And when that did not seem enough, your body- on its own- moved a step closer to Loki's side. "Oooooh Gooood," you whispered with quite the shudder while your face was plastered with a no-fucks-given wave, "we're gonna die." On the contrary, the silence was followed by many Jotuns coming out of the shadows to surround your group one by one before bowing down. Even the ones who looked quite young did the same. All of them except for the one Jotun who had greeted you first. "Allir fagna konungi!" they chanted in unison. "All hail the king," Javier translated it for you. "Didn't know you were into Nords," you quipped, "the language, I mean." "Honey, I am all into Nords," he signed before looking around with a smile, finding a buff Jotun that caught his eye. He did not take another second to blink at him and leave that giant a bit confused and flustered at the same time.

Inside the Palace The throne was sculpted out of ice that seemed as old as the mountain. Alongside it had been made seating arrangements for the family, running parallel till the doors of the throne room, all greyish blue stones marked with Jotun carvings. You and Javier believed they might be names of dignitaries. Lulu thought they are just doodles by other babies and proceeded to contribute to the stone they were standing next to. A little female giant sat down and looked at Lulu's doodles with curious wide eyes. Loki stood rightfully in front of his throne, admiring it before turning to his subjects, most of them adults who were exceptionally taller and blue-er than him. The drone captured the magnificence of the throne room that had fire pits next to the seats at intervals right alongside the stone pillars and right in the middle, a few feet in front of the king. But none of them were lit. And the giants were visibly annoyed by the drone while the kids wanted to catch it and play with it. "An Asgardian announces himself as our King," the one giant growled as he stood at the steps of the throne, "why would we believe you to be our King, son of Odin." He nearly spat the last part. The drone captured that bit of concern breaking out on your composed features but Loki just smirked. Pulling his overcoat to the side- as magnificently as he believed himself to be- he sat down as if he has done it ever since he was born. The authority exuding from his presence certainly put the murmurs going around the hall to a standstill. "At ease, Helblindi," he stressed to the giant with a purr and directed the rest of the audience to take their place. "Not you." Everyone stopped short to looked at their king. And he was clearly looking at you. You pointed a finger at yourself in question. "Don't you know your place....pet?" he commanded ever so slyly, discreetly pointing his finger at the stone next to his throne.

You: *look around to make sure no one's looking at you* *anger about to explode through your eyes* *whispering* Pet?? PET?? I swear gonna just *gestures to grab the air* grab his throat and *punches the said air repeatedly in her palm*  *camera pans out to focus on three baby giants looking at you in pure horror before their mother carries them away murmuring something* *camera swivels to show Javier looking disappointed* Javier: *signs* she said 'stay away from the crazy human'. *sighs* *shakes his head*

“Come-“ Loki’s fingers gestured at you to come over to that stone couch of a thing next to him- “sit.” Taking a breath to compose your usual embers of rage at that comment, you smiled and walked up the stairs to stand next to him. The camera recorded the little gracious bow you gave the God but not before your back was to the spectators and you signalled an insult with your middle towards him, nearly making him chuckle. And with one heavy inhale, you sat down next to him, clearly not at the same level as him. “Is this what Lulu feels like?” “I would’ve made Lulu sit in my lap,” Loki acknowledged with a smirk. “You’re welcome to join me anytime but for now-“ he adjusted himself on his seat and raised his voice to address the court- “let us have a feast tonight and raise our mugs in union of the Jotun king and his subjects.” Helblindi scoffed and spat on the floor. Loki did not look but he was surely observing his every move. “In union of an excuse of a giant who does not even resemble-“ “I would like you to stop there my brother-“ Loki announced as he got up, letting the whole room take one united gasp at the scene- “before you start regretting your own words.” You blinked at the reactions to turn and look at Loki. Now the lights from the ceiling did a stupendous job of catching the widening of your eyes while your pupils were dilated in an emotion only known to you when you witnessed- for the first time in your life- Loki's skin change its shade and features. The flawless paleness gave way to a blue so deep over those arms he rarely displayed in public. The colour ran up his neck as well, covering him all the way. And along with this shade came ridges on his skin which apparently every Jotun had; running up his face and down his limbs. Those smaragdines and whites around them were now replaced with red. “This Jotun-“ his voice was low, but with enough weight that it echoed to the last corner of the room- “has seen enough lives to know what is hatred and what is fear. So next time you try to question my right, Helblindi, know that I have no qualms in exploiting them in a way which seems necessary for me.” Helbindi did not seem to stand his ground much now. Not after a few Jotuns who stood up to speak against the giant who had been torturing them for a while with his reckless and greed-ridden laws. Javier's camera was stuck on your reaction in the middle of this mild chaos. Your parted lips, wide eyes, stare lingering all over the God's body, your throat feeling the urge to swallow the dryness; it really was a sight, an emotion that many fanfiction artists would want to take inspiration from. Loki- who was smirking at the warm welcome he was receiving through the roar against his brother- turned around to look at you. His smirk disappeared and his usually focused gaze was interrupted with those unsure blinks at your features. Before he could explain himself, one giantess blocked his way to you with a bow. "We have prepared the Bath for you and your companions, your grace," she announced, still with her head held low. His gaze was running between you and her. To make it easier for him, you got up from your seat and walked down to the giantess who wanted to show you, Javier and Lulu to the Bath. "Nandi," Loki finally looked at the giantess. "Yes, your grace." "I need you to choose four of your most loyal companions to guard them." "They are all ready to escort your companions where you please." Loki smiled at Nandi. "I owe it to your mother to protect you, your Grace, like she protected me and my children." "My mother had a loyal friend in you," the God appreciated before walking down the throne and away from the crowd. The drone followed him.  The graceful composure of the God crumbled like a dry sand castle as soon as the doors closed behind him and he was alone in the icy corridors. His pace got faster by the second, his eyes searching everywhere. "This isn't fair, you know." Loki stopped at the echo of your voice. The pause of one breath, and he knew where to turn to find you standing in the shadows. Javier stood by the pillar next to you two with his camera, capturing this strange tick on Loki's features. You stepped out of the shadows, your gaze uninterrupted, looking right at those red eyes. "Do you know the amount of chaos it would create on earth if people knew that you look like..." "Like what? A monster?" Loki's voice was heavy. "Nah don't say i-dammit! Now I cannot stop imagining the term monsterfuckers." Loki blinked. His brows furrowed at you ever so slightly. "I mean-" you sighed with frustration- "was it not enough that you looked like a literal God in a human form that you had to now go and reveal that you are one buffed up alien? Look at you? You are one breath away from starting a cult of monsterfuckers! Do you realise that? Look at-" you grabbed that one barely naked blue arm and tried to squeeze it- "this firm, cold, arm that is people are going think about in-" you tried to breathe, your gaze still stuck on his shoulder- "their bed at night. God, why do have to be so-" you pointed at all of him with a frustration-filled, longing look of...disgust- "you." By now Loki was raising his brows in question and shifting his gaze between himself and you, clearly confused by your reaction. It even seemed he was a bit flustered at one point. You winced, looking at his body again. Your eyes followed the ridges on his face to his neck, plunging down his v neck t-shirt. With a frown you turned hastily, flinging your body involuntarily in the direction of the bath. "I bet they go all the way down," you whispered to yourself in between your sobs and walked away.

Loki: *still stands there* *blinks* *looks at the camera* what...*looks in her direction* *looks back* *does this two more times* what just happened?

The Resting Chambers: Next Day One of Javier's drones followed you from the balcony you were standing in to witness the first light of the nearest star in this frozen land. The snow-clad mountains were a majestic sight in their own stature. Even the smile emanating under the warmth of the star could not deny that. The giggles coming from inside the room broke the sweet hum of sync you were having with the weather, walking back in to find Skandi and Kolga, Nandi's daughters setting up the table with Jotunheim's specialities- snowberries, Kruweed- fresh seaweed from the frozen lake- and Lulu's favourite, spiked abalones. "What are you girls snickering about?" Lulu was already jumping on the table to sniff everything placed for his liking. Once he had inspected every single item, he went over to his bowl of abalones.

"Nothing," Skandi cooed, "just discussing how Loki-" Kolga elbowed her sister to correct herself- "how his Grace, keeps looking at you." Your hands paused for a fraction of a second near your mouth before the snowberry found its way in your mouth. "Look at me how?" "He looks at you as if you might vanish any second if he does not keep his eye on you," Kolga added, sitting down next to you. Her face had gentle tones all over it. Her eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she talked to you. "Are you being punished for something?" It took you some time to realise she was genuinely curious. "What. No. Why would you think that?" "Because his grace keeps you under guard. I thought pets were kept in cages in Midgard." Skandi turned to Kolga with a gasp. "He caged her last night then?!" The camera captured your furrowed brows sitting there confused in between the sisters. You opened your mouth to speak but lost to Kolga. "You mean when he told off Helbindi that she will be sleeping in his quarters." Skandi nodded vigorously. "He could not have kept her in a real cage." "Maybe he chained her to the bed." "Ah. So he could keep an eye on her at night." "Is that what happened, y/n?" You hid your face behind the mug of tea that did not seem to leave your lips while your free hand seemed to check your cheeks for their temperature. "This tea is good," your burned throat appreciated the drink. "He seems quite...what is the word... possessive of her," Skandi commented. You shared a look with the drone- your face devoid of any emotions. Kolga hummed in agreement, popping a snowberry in her mouth. "I thought Kruge would die last night by his hands." Now that seemed to catch your attention. "Kruge who?" "Helbindi's guard. The one who nearly pushed you into the wall last night." "When you went inside," Kolga continued, "his Grace took Kruge's staff and struck him in his limbs and threatened him to never touch you again if he wanted to stay alive." "Kruge should be glad he did not use his powers on him lest he would be a part of the dark pit's icicles by now." Kolga and Skandi stopped talked to watch you lost in deep thought while your hands scratched Lulu's back on their own, making the floof purr quite loud. "Is she making this little creature vibrate?" Skandi asked her sister in a whisper. "It looks like it," her sister whispered back in awe.

You: *whispering at Javier* What? No, it's okay. We can record here. No one can say anything. *sits on the stone seat in the gallery that seems empty to the camera* *adjusts hair* is it recording? Of course. It's always recording. *clears throat* *at normal tone* So, clearly...*inhales* *raises brows* things are barely standing still right now. And it is clearly not helping that Loki is having sudden urges to pick a fight with whoever bullies me. *Javier's drone catches him discreetly signing at you to lower your voice a bit* You: *irritated* I mean does he want me to get bullied more? Bullies are always going to pick on the weak one in the group for fuck's sake! And evidently, I am the weaker sex. *the camera catches a movement behind you, turning to focus on the source* You: and his highness does not seem to realise that it will be too easy for these giants to torture his weaknesses out of me. Does he not see that? *squints at Javier* what? The drone is recording Javier aggressively telling you to cut it out while looking pale as his gaze goes far behind you. You turn to look where his gaze is going. Javier's camera automatically focuses on Kruge standing next to the last pillar, throwing daggers in your direction through his bloody eyes for a moment before disappearing somewhere. You: *turn around with a shade lighter yourself* *the camera is panning over your face now as you look at it* *whispers* Fuck!

Five Minutes Later One of the drones buzzed against the ice that separated the balcony and the bedroom, tapping itself repeatedly on the transparent frost till the door to the room opened. It turned around to record you and Javier rush inside- the latter placing his camera in his bag and packing his stuff. "Okay, relax, relax!" you stressed to the hyperventilating boy. "We need to get out of here," he signed. "Javi, take three deep breaths? Yes? One? Two? Good. Three. Now think about it. As long as we are with Loki, no one will dare harm us. Okay? Not to mention he has allotted us our personal security team." Javier was on the verge of sobbing. "What about when Loki is not around. What will we do then?" "Javi, don't think like that," you nearly fumed at him. "Loki is in the throne room right now. You take the guards with you and go to him and when you find a window let him know what happened, okay?" Javier was still taking deep breaths while sweating through his fur coat. He nodded. "What about you?" "I...have Lulu." You pointed at the floof sleeping with his belly bared and his paws out. "I won't leave the room, don't worry." Once convinced you'll be fine, Javier hurried outside, leaving you in a silence only filled by light snores of your baby. The drone recorded you biting your lip and tying your hair up in a bun. "Okay," you whispered to yourself, "now we wait." It also recorded the sudden change in the shade of one section of the wall opposite to your back. With the focus still on you, the section of the wall appeared to open out, revealing the pitch blackness lit by a pair of red eyes. The next thing you knew, the drone was lying on the floor, its barely working lens recording your muffled screams and boots struggling to find the ground as a pair of blue feet walked past the lens before it went black.

One Hour Later The camera sat on the stone seat, recording the periodic tapping of Javier's foot from outside the frame. Loki still had audience. The Jotuns discussed every aspect of Jotunheim with the king. Loki sat patiently, listening to every word before advising them necessary steps. The majority was satisfied with the King's suggestions. Many were even in awe. There were a few who were dissatisfied no matter what the God mentioned. "Well-" Loki sat straight, addressing the whole court- "this concludes our day then." "Your grace," one giant bowed at the steps, "there are a few more issues that need your kind attention." Loki sighed, his hand resting on the armrest, his fingers running over his lips in thought. Not sure about Loki, but the camera recorded the patient that ran out of Javier. He got up from his seat, immediately catching the God's eye, who was quick to raise his fingers just for the boy to stop taking any further steps towards him.  "You have stalled me enough," the God acknowledged, catching the giant off guard. "Helbindi should know it better than anyone that a coup against me would be a futile attempt." Loki did not budge where he sat, just his finger drumming on the arm rest. "And I am in no mood for a mutiny."

.

The one drone who had been playing with the Jotun kids picked up the damage to a drone in the resting chambers. It buzzed through the halls, trying to pick up your trail, finding corridors and corners to fly through, walking down dark pathways with no windows and steep stairs spiraling deep into the mountains. On its way it found Lulu howling and meowing in a frantic daze, walking down the same path where he found your scent. And it seemed like he found you through the same dark pathway that ultimately reached an opening.  There was nothing but ice all around and in every form. A section of the mountain that opened to the outside with a catch. There were cells cut into this ice for prisoners. Shackles of cold metal rested in every cell. Each of them had metals bars to keep the captives in and an opening in the ice to keep any grain of warmth out. And to add to it all, this entire prison cell rested on a frost chunk hanging at the edge of the mountain. "Stop, please, you cannot do this!" Your voice and footsteps could be heard echoing through this section. The drone buzzed and landed on the wall to record the Kruge stripping you of your fur coat with a maniacal grin on his face. "Hey! HEY!! Give me back my coat!" Kruge stopped you from going for your coat by his hand coming for your throat. His grip made it hard for you to breathe as you struggled to get out of the hold, your nails trying their best to dig into that stubborn cold skin of his. Lulu ran and growled at the giant, scratching at his ankles till the latter kicked him away. "What do you want?" you barely managed to get out of your mouth. "We want Loki out of Jotunheim," he growled in your face, smacking your back in the ice wall behind you before letting go of your throat. You fell down with a thud and a groan, taking in as much air as your windpipe allowed. "Okay," you wheezed, "okay. You let me talk to Loki and I will convince him to leave Jotunheim. I promise. I pinky promise." You even raised your pinky. But Kruge was already closing the bars on you. Lulu ran and jumped through the bars to stop by your side, sniffing and crying, wanting to make sure you were okay. "No no no no," you crawled to the bars, trying to wrap your fingers around them but failing once your skin felt the vicious cold personally, "please don't do this. You have to stop. Now." "You said you know Loki's weakness," a voice boomed from the shadows where you had been dragged from. A very familiar and ominous voice. The drone turned to capture Helbindi stepping into the ice prison with a stature fit for kings. "His essence is lost. It is a secret no more, you quim." You looked at Lulu in confused defeat. "Why does it feel like he called me a whore?" you whispered. Lulu threw his own curses at the giant. "Listen, sir, Mr Helbindi," you began, "you want the throne, right? And I want to get out of here alive. How about I take Loki with me? You get back your kingly rights, I get my friends back and we go our separate ways. Everybody wins!" Helbindi came down on his knees in front of you. A smile rested on those cracked lips of his. His hand went past the bars- to your surprise- and landed on your cheeks. Your gaze kept shifting between his eyes and his hand while your body tried to move away from his hold. But he was one stubborn bastard. "He must have kept you alive for a reason." Helbindi was talking to himself now. His thumb rubbed against your skin, something that was visibly making you uncomfortable. "Ah...he keeps you to satisfy his nightly needs." You pushed yourself away from Helbindi, only to be forced into the bars by his hold around your skull; his chuckle resonating through the prison. "Do not worry my little whore," he whispered right in your ear while his icy breath ran over your skin, "you will be my pet soon. And unlike Loki-" he licked your cheek with his tongue, driving you mad with disgust- "I prefer violence even in my chambers." Your breaths were shallow. A single tear falling from your eyes as you did you best to maintain your features. "You are making a grave mistake," you whispered through your teeth. Lulu tried to claw at Helbindi too but Kruge was already kicking him away, earning a death stare from you. The giant struck his nail in your throat, driving it deep till there was blood. "The only mistake that was made was by you coming into my land. And you all will pay for it." Dropping you back into the snow, Helbindi got up and walked back into the darkness.

.

Loki watched the doors open to let Helbindi in, his gait ever so dominating as he walked past the judgmental eyes of every other giant in the court with his own little battalion following him, carrying weapons of all sorts. "A king with no powers has no right to sit on the throne, Laufeyson," Helbindi roared, ground his staff a few feet away from the stairs to the throne, creating a crack in the ground. "And a Jotun with Asgard in his blood has no right to stay alive in Jotunheim." Weapons were drawn at anyone who was not on Helbindi's side. Javier was already on his feet, running by Loki's side with his camera. Loki still had his mouth covered with his hand, as if in a tired trance. "Everybody out," he commanded ever so smoothly to his audience- who was hesitant at first, but left as soon as the God's eyes pierced through every last one of them. Left alone with his brother's radical followers, he sighed out loud, his fingers still drumming. Javier felt a buzz in his pocket, making him take out the little tablet he used to control his cameras. "Your actions with every passing moment make me more sure of your inability to rule over the subjects, brother mine," the God simply commented. The seriousness on Javier's face was turning into a field of fear. "Oh, I am not asking, brother mine," Helbindi snared at Loki, "I am taking what is mine." "And why would I give you anything you want." "Ask your little plaything," Helbindi smirked. The drumming of those pale fingers stopped. Silence eroded in the throne room. And slowly a shallow panting was audible from the God's side. The camera suddenly lost its balance and fell down on the armrest before toppling on the throne behind Loki, his back still in the frame. Light reflected through Javier's eyes, more precisely through his tears, as he moved the tablet towards Loki. "Stop, please, you cannot do this!" your voice echoed through the tablet, and all the lines on Loki's face disappeared. His body got up from the throne, his eyes still stuck on the device, looking at the aftermath of Helbindi's actions. There was no emotion on the God's face while he witnessed everything recorded on the drone. He did not even budge till the recording finished. Once the screen blacked out, he swerved the tablet for Javier to take back. His gaze was apparently still stuck on the black stones on the floor, his jaw threateningly sharp in whatever light coming from the nearest star. "If you want to see her alive again, go back to your ship before the star drops fro-," "You touched her." His voice was just a decibel higher than a whisper; his shoulders stiff. The silver bracelets were visible on his wrists, more so with the light reflecting from them. His pale fingers now turned into fists. "You hurt her."  Nothing but the resonating crack of a metal reverberated through the hall and everything went black.

.

The drone sat over the bars, recording the visible shivering breaths coming out of you while your skin turned pale, your fingers blue and your hairs were already collecting frost over them, despite moving your legs as close as you possibly could to your body. "P-plea-hease," your voice shuddered, "s-s-stop hi-im. T-there is-s-s st-i-ill time." "Your master is quite possibly begging on his knees by now," Kruge cackled, gulping down the mead and pouring more from the barrel next to him. Lulu was trying his best to keep your warm with his little body, wrapping himself around your neck while whimpering for you. Kruge was about to finish another mug when his ears caught a snicker that slowly turned into a weak laughter. The drone recorded you chuckling through the pain of the blight. "What is so comedic," Kruge snarled at you. "You thought I was telling you to stop for Loki's sake?" you laughed a little more, making the Jotun simmer with building rage. "I was telling you to stop your master before it's too late, you sewage rat's tick." The lens panned in on your features, all those helpless tears replaced by a smirk that could put the devil to shame. "You master thinks I am Loki's weakness." Your eyes glistened with a tint of some hidden darkness inside them in contrast to all the white around you. "Because I made him think that, you buffoon." "He is nothing without his essen-" "Count your peaceful breaths, you son of a bitch," you stressed, never batting your eyelids, "because you are not going to die an easy death today." You smiled turned into a chuckle before your eyes turned heavy and you fell down. The drone- in its last few minutes- went dark, but not before recording Lulu's cried, mewls, howls that slowly turned into a blood curdling roar echoing till the end.

[tintentrinkerin]

Title: Pink Pulse

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: explicit

Tags: Bottom!Dean, Top!Sam, Witch OC, Magic, Demon Blood!Sam, Horny Idiots, Breeding kink, Dean has a magic pussy, slightly crack!fic

Summary: Dean wants to piss Ruby off and reclaim Sam as his. During a bender he meets Mandrake, a shady witch who offers him help.

Word Count: 4.5k

READ UNDER THE CUT OR ON AO3

When Dean Winchester regains his consciousness on this cold and foggy morning, he doesn’t really expect a surprise. He’s been drinking for a day… or maybe two, after Ruby, this damn bitch!, showed up again to lure Sam back. It’s her usual fucked up game, she does that when the angels aren’t looking. Sometimes, Dean knows it, Sam secretly calls her and when he sneaks out, Dean knows where’s going. And when he returns he stinks of blood and skank.

Dean’s head hurts like crazy. It takes several attempts for him to roll from his stomach to his back and then get a grip on the dumpster he’s lying next to and swing his body up. His feet feel jiggly and his stomach seems to be empty but he’s nauseous as hell. He hasn’t been robbed, that’s a good thing, his phone, his purse, even the keys to the Impala are still in his pockets. He checks his phone.

It’s 7.38am. Okay, great. He might’ve just passed out a few hours and if he’s super lucky, Baby is parked in close distance.

His phone shows several texts from Sam and from someone who calls themselves “Mandrake”. Doesn’t ring a bell. Not yet. Rather, Dean browses Sam’s texts which tone switches from mopey, to angry, to frightened and then there are over thirty missed calls. Holy shit, was Dean really gone for just a night? Dean tumbles out the alley and winks at the bright daylight he’s now exposed to. He might call Sam before he really freaks out. Some memories flare up in his brain about the damn fight, and that Dean insisted Sam was caught by Ruby so easily because he was underfucked and needed pussy a little too bad. He still thinks he’s right.

There is something to that word. Pussy. Dean loves saying it, Dean loves eating it, Dean loves everything revolving around it, but when he accused Sam of being a horny underfucked loser craving some, he felt bitter about it. A feeling that he had earlier, before Sam went to Stanford. Now Dean is a grown ass man with the Apocalypse on his heels, he has more pressing issues - or so it seems.

He phones Sam while stumbling through the alleys and trying to find Baby. Damn. His pants feel weird. Like he has a wedgie. In the front.

“Dean! For fuck’s sake, where are you?!”

Dean stops in his tracks and scratches his crotch.

“Chill out, Sammy. I’ll find out where I am, I just need to find the damn car.”

“I was a second away from letting Castiel locate you.”

“Forget the damn angel, I’m on my way.”

Sam scoffs into the phone.

“You’re such an idiot. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“No, no, I don’t. I thought you’re sucking pussy all night.”

Sam hangs up without another word.

There it is again, this fucking thought. That Sam could be out fucking Ruby while he’s been… what? What exactly happened between nightfall and now? There was a fight, not physical, but Dean has been so fucking close to slap the bitch across the face. Sam stopped him.

Dean finds the pub where he supposedly was drinking his anger away. It’s closed. The “Full Moon”. And it’s been a full moon last night. How damn right poetic. His phone rings.

“Yo, Sammy - wanna apologize and admit you’ve been eatin’ her all night?”

A female voice on the phone laughs. Dean frowns.

“Who’s this?”

“Mandrake. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember jack. Where’d you get my number?”

Dean knows, he should hang up. This is maybe a very bad idea. Give too much away. This woman sounds familiar but a lot of women do, he’s not exactly in celibacy since he’s back from Hell.

“I got it from you, idiot. And I got something else.”

Dean follows the main road for as long as he somehow feels he’s been here before. He surely didn’t drive far from the motel but far enough that Sam wouldn’t find him. This is so not usual for Dean. Being a mopey idiot? Yes. Getting drunk? Also very much yes. It itches in Dean’s pants and when he makes sure no one’s looking he sticks his hands in his boxers.

Holy shit. What the fuck.

Sam can’t focus. He sits at the motel room’s table, trying to do research, but he just can’t block out all of the things that distract him. The flickering TV. The humming of the air conditioning system. His fingernails clicking on his laptop’s keyboard. The thoughts. All of his thoughts combined as sinister and hilarious and frightening they are at the same time. Dean’s been gone for two damn nights. Okay, now he’s back, sitting on the sofa, manspreading. Only in his now deflated looking underwear. Watching something on TV that Sam can’t process. He sees the images, but his mind is racing like crazy around all the other things. The goosebumps on his own arms, the sound of his own breath. He feels the harsh and fast pumping of his heart, circulating his blood. He can feel his pupils dilate. And his legs won’t hold still. He has to move somehow.

Ruby’s blood wasn’t enough last time. The fuck wasn’t enough. Everything aches inside Sam. Anger is like a fist in his stomach but he isn’t quite sure if the anger is the fuel of everything.

He knows Dean hates it when he bounces like this, his legs are shaking and damn, something is pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Of course it’s not something. Thing is, he wants to ignore it.

Dean seems to be calm right now, but he’s sitting right under the air conditioning, the blow is ruffling his hair while he stares on the screen, his arms crossed, legs spread out. He scratches himself. There. Sam follows the movement and gulps.

And then, shit, Sam, stop fucking looking at your brother’s crotch! - but he can’t stop! - Dean isn’t scratching anymore. Two of his fingers press right between his thighs, the fabric rustles, and it turns wet. The fucking boxers get wet. Dean doesn’t even seem to notice, but he should. It’s his body! It’s his-

Sam can’t even think it without feeling a rush of hot blood and sharp imaginary knives stabbing his lower stomach. Pulse spikes up. Pupils dilated. Mouth waters. Sam tries to hide a grunt but he can’t.

“Sammy, you good?”, Dean asks, still rubbing his-

Sam looks at him. He must look like a drug addict in withdrawal. Well, maybe he is. He’s maybe addicted to- it’s all Ruby’s fault. She came when Dean died and she lured him in, now he can’t stop thinking of her warm salty blood in his mouth. Or his teeth on her skin. His tongue-

“Fuck.”

Dean looks irritated.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry, I don’t even remember most of the fight. It’s only twelve or thirteen days from now and I’m-- I’m normal again.”

Sam inhales. Dean’s scent was building over the last couple of hours and now it’s so thick, musky and intoxicating that it’s hard to ignore it.

“Shut up and take a shower.”

Dean now closes his legs and presses his hands on his thighs. He looks at Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

“There’s nicer ways to tell me I still stink of garbage.”

If it was only fucking garbage! Sam is so close to yell it, to jump up, throw the table over or punch a wall.

“You don’t stink.”

“Then what?”

Dean gets up and walks towards the table. His chest is heaving, Sam notices. Breathing heavy. Such a broad chest, covered in goosebumps. Sam feels incredibly sick all of a sudden.

“I can smell…”, Sam needs to cover his mouth and nose with his hand. The closer Dean comes the worse it gets.

“Now tell me already, if I don’t stink anymore what’s the problem?”

“Dean, I could smell a chipmunk’s fart from miles away, that is a problem.”

Sam needs to breathe. He jumps up and throws himself over to the window and opens it. He should’ve done that way earlier, he realizes. But Dean is behind him now.

“Unless we have chipmunks with flatulences in here, I still don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

Dean touches Sam’s shoulder. Adrenaline. Dopamine. Oh holy shit, the whole hormonal time bomb erupts inside Sam’s body. When he turns around, he’s sure he looks super frightening to Dean, but he can’t stop, won’t stop and pulls Dean close. Dean freezes. A shaky little laugh.

“Sammy… what…”

“I can smell your pussy”, Sam growls, his lips on Dean’s skin.

Dean doesn’t smell like a woman at all, everything about him is testosterone, if there wasn’t this tiny anomaly about him.

That he got himself hexed by a shady witch.

There’s no struggle against Sam’s force when he pushes Dean against the table and then -- as if he waited for it -- Dean hops on that table, opens his legs for Sam.

“What are you doing?”, he still asks, his green eyes big and glassy, lips a cute pout.

Sam has no answer to that than before: “Your smell drives me mad. I need…”

What does Sam need? His brother? His magical pussy? Or wouldn't it be easier to run away to mountains nearby and scream from the bottom of his lungs until he passed out?

Decisions, decisions.

Dean's face has the colour of fresh pink guava juice, his freckles pop, his eyes pop. His lips part for a second. His tongue flicks. No Sam knows exactly what he needs.

“Do you need it? My pussy?” Dean whispers. He slowly pulls his boxer briefs down to his ass but then Sam needs to help, Dean clings on him, Sam pulls. Dean lays across the - thank GOD, long table and is spread out like a delicious meal, while Sam frees Dean from the fabric. It's more ripping then pulling and Sam groans, shit, he's ripped them apart. But then, when Dean opens his legs even more, lying here on his back like a beetle, helpless and weirdly pliant, the odor of Dean's pussy makes Sam cuss and tumble.

“Fuck, Dean…”

“Huh? Not good?”

Sam is out of words, super-ego just logged out with an ‘I have no power here’ and damn right it doesn't!

Dean's pussy is perfect. Another grunt. Holy shit. Instead of an answer for Dean, Sam kneels between Dean's wonderfully wide spread legs. His brother is the definition of a bottom here. Just opening his legs for anyone. Even Sam. The smell is intense and rich, Sam knows it from the other women he's been with... but Dean has one perfect twist. He smells like Sam's brother, too. Musky and citric. And that makes Sam go lizard brain.

“I need to taste you.”

Dean now even slides closer, his legs lie on Sam's shoulder. Sam jerks up and leans over the table, over Dean's naked body. This pussy is just the material of Sam's wet dreams. His nose rubs Dean's skin under his belly button and Dean moans.

“Do it, Sammy. Fucking do it or I'll push your face in my pussy myself.”

Well. Not the worst threat he's ever received. Sam's hand trails between Dean's legs and when he feels the wetness, a fucking intense wetness that is spread all over. Even the thighs are a little glossy from Dean's fluids.

Sam needs to see. Going down, he pushes Dean's legs apart even wider and dives in between these legs. Pink and juicy, dripping wet. The smells almost knocks him out, makes his mouth water and a generous drop of drool falls from his lips. He cannot fucking take that anymore. And Sam pushes Dean closer to him, winds his arms under Dean's now trembling legs and -

Dean cries out, muscles flex, he kicks out, then sinks down again. Just one damn lick.

Sam is in such rage that he can't be fully a gentleman here and do everything slowly, patiently. He's hungry and his primal urge has taken over. Greedy, he licks up and down Dean's labia, tongue working and opening his brother's pussy up and Dean sounds so fucking hot. No girl or guy ever made him sound so needy and so desperate for a fuck. He tastes just as good as Sam imagines when he sucks the thick and sweet wetness from Dean's pussy, sucks on the folds while his fingers run up and down Dean's thighs and Sam needs one free hand now, his thumb rubbing just above the hood of the clit, other finger just teasing his entrance. Not really pushing it in, just a little rubbing while Sam sucks and licks and circles Dean's clit with his tongue.

Dean feels like he is losing his mind. Not only that Sam really is between his legs and gives him mind blowing oral sex, fuck, Dean loves it. He thought Sam was angry but the way he devoured Dean's pussy, anger was definitely gone. He can't stop moaning and winding and his hands in Sam's hair. When he looks down and sees his brother's face up and down, he looks very focused on what he's doing. And in Dean feelings build up, it's a heat and a tumbling, never felt like this.

In a moment of taking a deep breath and Sam looks up, Dean's juices run down his chin and in the collar of his shirt. “Dean, you taste so good…” he says and bites in Dean's thigh. Doesn't hurt. “Better than anything.”

Dean shudders. He needs more.

“Sammy, keep going.”

Sam smirks, his thumb circling Dean’s now swollen and hot clit, his whole pussy is slick with his wetness. No woman Sam ever had sex got that wet.

His thumb is gentle, a perfect rhythm of circling. Stopping. Circling. Stopping. Little pressure. Dean’s body feels on fire.

“Is that what the girls tell you when you go down on them?” Sam asks, his voice rustling leaves.

Dean can’t help but utter a short, almost hysterical laugh.

“I never really listened.”

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk, Sam clicks his tongue.

“You should’ve. Not only that. Listen to what they say but what-”

Sam finger slides in Dean’s wet pussy with one fast but well adjusted movement. Dean winds and arches his back. Tries to get Sam’s finger away and yet…

“-when they want to escape you, you’re doing it right.”

“Sam, for fuck’s sake! I had enough sex with enough people to know the god damn basics!”

But feeling it himself gives him a whole new sense for it. Sam’s finger moves, wet sounds, in and out and it takes not even a blink and Dean begs for more. Two fingers, holy shit, Sam’s fingers are thick and long and when he starts fucking Dean’s pussy with them while sucking on his clit, the impulse to turn on his stomach and either crawl away or present his naked ass to invite Sam to fuck him -- Dean wants both!

Sam’s ‘come hither’ movements tighten the knot in Dean’s stomach. That’s not what an orgasm feels like for him when he’s about to blow. This is so much deeper, feel tight and hot right up to his lower belly. The noises Sam makes as he sucks Dean’s clit are downright vulgar. And the faster Dean’s breath goes, the more he tries to wind away, Sam’s hand around his upper thigh is a bench vice - he won’t let Dean go. Not unless…

Dean can feel it. He whines “fuck, Sammy, ‘m gonna cum…” and this would be the same moment he came. If Sam just sucked his dick. But this is… slower. And Sam goes absolutely frantic, like a boxer he just goes for Dean’s weak spots and he has definitely found them now and he rubs Dean’s insides, sucks his clit, damn how big can such a tiny thing swell? And Dean fucks himself on these fingers, his rhythm clashes against Sam’s, the bigger the friction, the better. His fingers clench in Sam’s hair and then finally, Dean comes, he feels like exploding, black dots in his sight and he has to close his eyes. His heartbeat goes straight up to his throat, only faint moans, a ‘holy fu…’ but he can’t even finish a fucking curse. Sam won’t stop fucking him, but slower now, more gentle. His tongue presses against Dean’s clit. Dean feels Sam’s breath on his wet skin. Everything tingles still, Dean’s hornystupidmanbrain is on standby, extremities just twitch helplessly.

When Dean opens his eyes he only sees the dirty brown ceiling and the dim light.

“I need a smoke”, Dean blurts out. Oh, the sweet refusal to acknowledge what just happened.

“Fuck, you clenched so hard I thought you would break my fingers.”

Sam sounds so deep, so gravely. Does Ruby hear that a lot?

Dean laughs, trying not to choke on his jealousy. Sam just ate him out. His brother. Just. Ate. Him. Out! Dean feels like he took drugs, heavy, light, euphoric. Not tired. This doesn’t seem to end in a hangover.

“Sam. I really, really wanted that”, another stupid thing to stay. But Dean’s stupid, especially when things are about Sam.

Sam scoffs. “I guessed, otherwise you would’ve punched me to a pulp.”

“Damn right…”

Dean covers his face with his arm, the dim light is too much right now. His breath hasn’t even calmed down yet and somehow, he has to admit, he’s not satisfied. The climax gave him a solid blank for a couple seconds but even now he’s throbbing and wet, Sam’s spit hasn’t made him any drier.

Dean is still a powerhouse of sex, Sam can’t deny it. Resting between his legs doesn’t help but he doesn’t dare to get up and reveal that he is rock-hard and ready. Eating his brother out has been a wild ride already, something he maybe dreamed of as a teenager (but even then - who would imagine Dean as a girl?), of sucking him off like he saw when Dean brought a girl or a dude home. Sam needs to get himself up, slowly, Dean is lying there, arm covering his eyes, but a smile on his face. He grins like an idiot. It’s cute.

Silence.

Awkward.

Sam doesn’t know what to say now, he’s lost control, because his brother grew a pussy. How could you ever explain that? Gladly he doesn’t have to.

Dean gets up, his eyes look teary, but not in the sad I’m-about-to-cry way. He rather pulls Sam close and whispers, something so idiotic, something so innocent, and yet something that makes Sam’s boner grow even more.

“You didn’t even kiss me first.”

“Sorry”, Sam replies, he’s just as stupid.

Dean makes it easy for Sam, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and kissing him. This is just another short circuit for him and before Sam realizes what he’s doing, his vision turns red. His instincts and his lust are wired to the taste and smell of blood - and Ruby. This is not Ruby. Gladly, this is not Ruby. It’s Dean. The one he thought of when it first happened, the one he was mourning so deeply. Now he gets what he wants from the person he wants. Bingo.

His brother is heavy, but Sam’s strength is to be reckoned with these days. It’s easy to lift him up - Dean’s legs wind around his hips, his ass feels so great. Firm. Dean moans in his mouth when Sam throws him on one of the motel beds and follows, laying his full weight on his brother.

“Sammy…”

Damn, Dean’s fumbling on his zipper.

“You’re big.”

Scoff.

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” Dean looks really intrigued. Sam lets it happen. Dean slides a hand in his boxer briefs and squeezes his raging dick.

“Fuck. Dean.”

These big pleading eyes. Sometimes Dean looks at him like this. And he looks younger than Sam now. Needy. Small. Vulnerable. Sam can never say no when Dean looks like this. He kicks out of his jeans and Dean is so damn impatient. Fabric tears on the seams. Sam doesn’t care.

The way Dean strokes him, the close they are it would be easy, way too easy just to slide inside Dean. Feel his wetness, how tight. How hot. And greedy. Swallowing Sam’s cock like he did with his fingers. Dean stops him. Sam’s heart sinks. It hurts.

“Take everything off”, Dean just says, “I don’t want to feel like quick fuck-”

Sam just has to laugh.

“Never”, he vows and then pulls the shirt over his head and throws it over his shoulder.

The way he towers over Dean, ready to mount, he feels like a steam breathing monster. He really shouldn’t do that. He’s spiralling down to something he never wanted to be. But he can be with Dean this way. Just this once…?

More than once…?

Dean’s legs around his hips trap him now, he can feel the slick wet folds on his cock already and all he can do now is just thrust in. Around his fingers Dean already felt like heaven and hell on earth, but this. Sam hisses, he feels like growing fangs, he digs his teeth in Dean’s neck, he tastes salt and sweat, Dean whimpers but doesn’t complain.

“God… so deep…”, he says. Like he can’t believe it.

“Hurts?”

Dean makes a sound that says ‘nuh-uh’ and that’s enough for Sam. He even pulls Sam closer, his legs force his cock deeper inside this fucking wet and inviting pussy.

This is so much better than Ruby. He needs to fucking forget her. The deeper he sinks, the harder he thrusts and sweat runs down in his eyes and makes them sting, he forgets about what all of this could mean for them. He just wants to fuck Dean silly. And Dean clings on him like he’s drowning in this feeling, no matter how harsh Sam is. His hips are snapping, damn, it must hurt, right? He eventually slows down to kiss Dean sloppily and open mouthed, their moans intertwining and building a cacophony of sounds, loud and rough, soft at the same time. Sam manages to slow down a little and Dean relaxes.

“I want you to fuck me from behind”, Dean mumbles on Sam’s lips, trying to hide the fact he’s blushing deep.

Sam huffs.

“Yeah. Whatever you want.” Babe.

He almost called Dean babe. Sam winds out, slides out, winces. It feels so good, Dean’s so wet, Dean’s just perfect.

On all fours, arms spread out like a silly yoga pose, back stretched… Sam definitely dreamt of this more than once. This time he pushes in slowly, and Dean arches his back. His breath staggers, yelps. But yet again, after a second of adjusting, Dean starts moving. Fucking himself on Sam’s cock and saying such nasty, irritating, hot things. He mewls and begs for more and then.

“God, Sammy, cum inside me!”

Sam stops. Dean repeats. “Cum inside me!”

There’s no way Sam can deny him, he’s close since Dean started working him like he did it a thousand times already. Sam grips those hips tight, leaves white marks, then pink long traces of his fingernails as he snaps in Dean’s pussy, shit, these sounds. Juicy and full, and Dean’s longing. This is the best fuck. This is it. This is what will blow Sam’s mind for hours, the whole night. Days.

“You want me to breed you, big bro?”, he hears himself say, the animalistic side, awake, fully in rage makes him say it, he can’t stop. “You want me to pump my load in ya?”

Dean nods frantically, his mewling and crying is so pretty. He’s still bouncing on Sam’s cock, his wonderful, round and firm ass, perfect for slapping. And Sam does. Dean whimpers, “please, more, Sammy, more!”

Sam claws at Dean’s hair, pulls it, overstretching his neck. He’s so out of control he might fuck Dean all bruised and sore.

“Touch your clit, c’mon babe, rub it. Cum on my cock and you’ll get it. I’ll knock you up”, whoa.

Dean does it, his hand traces down his body and he starts rubbing his swollen, red, overstimulated clit, squeezes it between his fingers and starts rubbing, circling.. hard to find the thing that gets you going, right? But soon, Dean writhes even more, his voice turns higher. Legs start shaking. “I think I’m gonna-”

He cums on Sam’s cock, clenching and moaning, getting so wet it drenches Sam’s crotch and runs down both their legs. The feeling is amazing, Sam’s checked out once again, babbling “Good boy, good boy” and then shoots a generous load of cum, he tumbles and hips snap and snap, until he’s finished.

They collapse, sweaty and gasping for air, Dean makes incoherent post orgasm noises.

Another period of silence that is only interrupted by the usual motel room sounds that creep back in Sam’s ears. He wants to pull out but Dean claws on his arm, his legs trapping Sam’s.

“No, no. Not yet. Please not yet.”

Sam sinks back and gives Dean what he needs, the closeness. Even though after some time fluids will dry and get cold. It will get sticky and that’s when Sam will have the urge to shower.

Not with Dean. They stay like this for minutes before Dean turns around, Sam lets him. They lay beside each other and the whole scene is hilariously and bizarrely romantic. They keep kissing and Dean’s like the devourer of Sam’s kisses and affections.

Dean rubs his nose on Sam’s, humming. He seems so proud of himself, so satisfied, but then his eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.”

He gets up on one elbow and looks at the mess they made. Cum is leaking out of him and he wipes it from his thigh. Tastes it.

“Dean, really?”

“Hey. It’s only natural. Have you never been curious?”

Sam shrugs. “Yeah I was, but I never thought you would be.”

“You know this breeding kink thing. I did that before but I- I mean. Hot fantasy, works with anal but… Do I need an emergency pill now?”

Dean’s face is deadpan serious. Sam clears his throat to hide that he actually wants to laugh. How could he know?

“Just to be sure, I would say a magical pussy isn’t spunk proof. We could get to a pharmacy ...”

Dean falls silent and leans into Sam. There’s so many things unsaid and he’s not in the mood to unpack it. Sam is reluctant either. It’s enough for him to hold Dean close, pet his hair and keep kissing him over and over until they feel in the mood again. That Dean’s been hexed is a secondary matter. They will enjoy it as long it lasts.

Sam goes down on Dean, even when he’s still leaking cum, he just swallows it, he doesn’t mind. And when they get tangled into each other, both thinking ‘well, if he needs an emergency pill we’ll make it worth it’.

Consequences? Which consequences?

Apocalypse might come, they might enjoy every fucked up delightful thing along the way.

[dancingazaleas]

ymir & historia reiss | addition

i literally never stfu abt them so why not write abt them

THIS IS A POLY ONESHOT!!! i love them but it’s hard to imagine them with someone else (romantically) so why not both! this post is so long and kind of cringy i’m so sorry besties 😞

warnings/notes: cursing, angst to comfort/fluff, modern au!, college au!, reader, historia, and ymir are 19-20.

you groan and slam your head against your desk, ymir just laughs at you, sitting to your right. the two of you were in your geography class and you felt like your brain was melting.

“it really isn’t that hard,” ymir nudges your ribs with her elbow.

“easy for you to say. you’ve been around the world, i’ve barely left trost,” ymir rolls her eyes as you whine into your arms, “you’re also literally majoring in paleontology. you’ve been into it since you were a kid, like a nerd.”

“i might just punch you for that,” she threatens, “historia was pretty good in geography back in highschool. maybe she can tutor you?”

when ymir said historia’s name, it felt as if you were getting whiplash from how you felt giddy and then felt slightly bitter.

historia has been your best friend ever since the two of you were 17 and met at a bed, bath, and beyond store. she goes to community college, her dad forbade her from university and she only agreed if it she could go. when you gushed about the university you’re currently going to, she immediately started listening and asking what classes you were in.

that’s how she found out you have geography with her girlfriend, and your other best friend, ymir. she started squealing and decided to introduce the two of you.

you both tried to intimidate one another when you first met a year ago, but once historia said something about farting from anxiousness you both bursted into laughter.

that’s how you integrated into their lives. you hang out with the both of them almost everyday, you talk to them everyday, you eat lunch together every thursday, and you three even go see new movies together on saturdays.

within the first four months of befriending the both of them, you felt like as if you were ruining the their alone time. multiple times you had come to hang out with ymir and/or historia only to find out that they were having a date night. even if they invited you to join after, you still felt guilty.

you also felt guilty for feeling jealous and sad whenever they both would show affection for each other. you didn’t know what you were/are jealous of and you don’t know what would make you sad about them being happy.

but you realized what exactly was making you feel that way when ymir and historia started pestering you about your love life. specifically, about a girl named hitch that they think you’d like. and ymir asked you if you’d ever even been in love before. after a few minutes of contemplating, you told her yes.

you love them both. you wanted to be with the both of them.

but you never could be. they don’t love you in the same way as each other. they don’t want to kiss you, hold you, and sleep with you.

and you know that.

“hey doofus, class ended. you comin’?,” ymir’s voice shook you out of your trance.

you look at her and nod, shoveling your stuff into the tote bag you use as your backpack. the two of you are going to meet historia for lunch, you both don’t have classes after 12. thank god.

it’s raining when you two step outside and ymir’s rambling about what restaurant the three of you should go to for lunch as you both walk to her car. you tell her you’re okay with anything as the two of you get in the car, which makes her whip her head towards you and pause after you’ve closed the doors.

“alright, what’s wrong with you,” she asks abruptly.

“what? why are you asking?”

“you’ve been so spacey and quiet lately, you’re hooking up with people, and now you’re okay with eating whatever? you’re a little picky about your food. and you usually never shut up. something is up,” she’s started the car and is no driving out of the parking lot.

“it’s just classes and work. i’m fine. i don’t wanna talk about it,” you shrug and look out the window. you don’t want to look at ymir.

“you’re lying,” she scoffs and shakes her head, “liar.”

you just ignore her and keep staring outside the window.

the rest of the car ride is silent excluding the tame impala song ymir’s playing on the radio. you almost jump for joy whenever the restaurant that historia and ymir must’ve decided on is in view. historia’s standing is sitting on a bench outside of the restaurant, holding an umbrella over her head and a smile shows up on her face when she sees the two of you pulling up. she’s stands up and waits for ymir to park and for you both to get out of the car. it makes your heart flutter a bit. she’s gorgeous.

you almost lunge out of the car whenever the door’s are unlocked, catching the attention from them both. you start fast walking towards the doors of the restaurant, but historia is blocking your path with her arms out wide to give you a hug.

you don’t want to hug her. you don’t want to burst into tears from the hug alone. she’s closing in on you, but you manage to swerve to the left and successfully dodge the hug. you scurry into the restaurant before she can get another chance to hug you. historia and ymir give each other a look of confusion and sadness.

after they exchange a peck on the lips, they follow you into the restaurant. when they get inside, they’re met with the view of you chatting excitedly and bashfully with the hostess, who’s name tag says nifa.

when nifa starts leading you to your table, you spare them a look that says to follow you. while nifa’s leading everyone, you’re both still laughing and blushing. historia and ymir give look at one another, feeling somewhat bitter at seeing this. you hadn’t even said anything to historia and you’ve barely talked to ymir all day.

the couple almost cry out a thank you whenever you’re all seated and nifa leaves.

you start looking at your menu aimlessly. you’ve been here before and you know what you want. but anything to avoid eye contact with ymir and historia, and it makes them sad.

“(name), did you know the hostess? seemed like you two were good friends,” you look up from the menu to see historia leaning towards you while smiling.

“no, i don’t know her. she said i looked familiar and we started talking about if we go to the same university. only to find out that i have a class with her,” you look embarrassed as you start to stare out of the window.

ymir hums in response and the waiter makes his appearance before historia can ask something else. you all decide to order your food at the same time of your drinks—it speeds up the process. when the waiter leaves, the table falls into an uncomfortable silence.

a couple minutes later, you’re scrolling through social media and taking a sip of your drink that was brought to you. you’re debating if you should text the groupchat you’re in with eren, mikasa, and armin. but before you can even make the decision, ymir and historia clap quietly, a signal that the food is here.

even when you’re all eating, the silence is unbearable. you feel like banging your head against a window. you opt to stare outside of it instead.

for some reason, this sets ymir off and she drops her silverware against the plate, the noise startling you and historia.

“alright,” she’s still chewing, “what the fuck is up with you? something’s obviously wrong, and you won’t tell us for whatever fucking reason. you’ve been so distant towards historia and i lately, you’re not even talking to us that much in person, you reject historia’s hug, and you seem so spacey lately!! you’ve also been rejecting our invites to hanging out when it isn’t thursday or saturday. you can’t just act like this and then expect us to not fucking notice the obvious changes. so what the fuck is wrong?”

you struggle to reply, “i’ve just been... stressed with school work and stuff. i’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind. how have i been distant?”

ymir slams her hand onto the table, and that’s when you realize that she’s actually pissed off. she’s pointing her finger at you as she starts raising her voice, attracting attention from other customers.

“you told me that you don’t have much work unless finals or what the fuck ever is coming up and finals end two fucking months ago! you fucking avoided hugging historia, and you’ve known her for years. but you’re so happy to chat with the fucking hostess, who met today. you’re acting like you don’t want to be our friend anymore, and if that’s the case then fucking tell us up front. it’ll save us some pain,” she spits and historia’s slapping her bicep and trying to get her to stop.

your throat feels clogged as your eyes start to tear up. you look petrified.

after a few seconds of you staring absentmindedly, you’re crying. fat tears rolling down your face and dripping onto the table as you bite on your bottom lip to avoid sobbing. you’re eyebrows are drawn upwards and you can’t stop sniffling.

you don’t want to lose them, but you don’t want to tell them. ‘this sucks,’ you think.

both historia and ymir are taken aback at your tears and feel the guilt crawling up their shoulders. you’re not easy to push to tears, it’s how you’re able to be around ymir. whatever’s upsetting you, it must be really stressful.

“(name),” historia speaks softly and puts her hand over your’s, “i’m sorry ymir made you cry. we’re just worried about you, but that doesn’t excuse the way ymir reacted. do you want to talk about it?”

you let out a broken sob as your shoulder shake, “take me home. take me home please.”

“wh—ow!!” ymir is slapped hard by historia.

“are you sure that’s what you want? you know you can tell us anything, right?”

you nod and let out a hiccup. historia frowns but chooses not to say anything and starts digging in her purse for her wallet. she pulls out a fifty and puts it onto the table, pushing ymir gently to get her outside of the booth. you’re getting out of the booth, scrubbing your wet eyes and trying to hide from nifa.

“i’m gonna drive you back to your apartment, okay? ymir, can you get their stuff out of your car,” she gently holds onto your arm while ymir begrudgingly obeys.

you get in the passenger seat of her car, covering your face as you start crying harder. historia’s standing at the front of her car, talking about something with ymir. whatever it is, it’s upsetting the both of them and you can’t help but feel like they’re arguing about you.

they seem to come to a conclusion, seeing as historia gives ymir a kiss on her lips. she’s getting in the driver’s seat, handing over your bag full of textbooks and laptop.

when historia starts the car, her car starts playing a tennis song that makes you smile. she switches it to soft lofi music to help you feel just a bit calmer.

the drive is mostly quiet besides your sobbing and crying. historia’s holding one of your hands in silent support.

she feels guilty and confused. had ymir really upset you that bad? what are you so upset about? is it because of us?

historia loves you dearly; both as a cherished friend and as a lover. it was the same for ymir, but historia had told her that you might defriend them if they confessed. they don’t even know your thoughts on polyamory.

they’d rather keep your friendship then possibly ruining it.

before historia can say a goodbye, you’re slamming the car door and jogging up towards your apartment.

‘this sucks,’ you think again and a loud sob rocks through your body. you’re unlocking the door with shaky hands. you go to swing the door open only for it to bounce back right into your face because the fucking deadlock is on.

you fall onto your ass, fumbling to get onto your feet. out of all the times mikasa, your roommate, wants to have her girlfriend, annie, over, why does it have to be now. you sob as you bang your fist against the front door, yelling for mikasa to let you inside. you’re probably going to get a noise complaint, but you don’t really care.

when there’s no sign of either or mikasa or annie coming to the door, you realize that they must be knocked out. both of them are heavy sleepers and mikasa’s room is furthest from the door, there’s no chance they’re going to wake up.

you slam the door shut and the urge to puke is strong. you’re going to have to go over to historia and ymir’s place. you start crying even harder, starting to tug onto some of the strands of your hair. you sit on the ground against the wall, knees pressed to your chest as your hands cover your eyes again.

this whole day has been shit, starting when you hung out with ymir and historia before your geography class. they were so affectionate with on another and all you could do is watch in want.

you hear the clacking of heels getting closer and you assume it’s historia.

“(name),” it’s historia, “c’mon. i’ll take you back to my house.”

you sniffle and silently get back up onto your feet. your jeans are damp from the rain and the feeling of it sticking to your legs has you cringing. scratch that—your whole body was damp from the rain.

you’ll take a hot shower later, when mikasa isn’t dead asleep along with her girlfriend.

you find out you’re wrong about your previous statement and in 15 minutes, you find yourself undressing in ymir and historia’s bathroom. they told you to get in the shower, shoving a big shirt and underwear you’ve left over at their house into your arms. you know that they’re clean, ymir is forced to do laundry every sunday.

you stand under the shower faucet, silently enjoying the piping hot water falling against your skin. you’re done in a matter of ten minutes, toweling your hair and then brushing it. you gather your wet clothes after you unlock the bathroom door and push it open.

steam rolls out of the room when the door opens and some of it trails behind you as you walk to find ymir. she’s sitting on the couch, munching on a KIND bar and watching the show victorious—it’s her guilty pleasure. she perks up when she sees you though, taking the clothes out of your arms and whisking away towards the washing machine.

you sit down on the couch, slouching lazily. ymir and historia flop down next to you on both sides, little huffs of air falling from their mouths. ymir’s got her arm resting on the couch cushion near your shoulders and historia’s throwing an arm around your waist and snuggling her cheek into your shoulder.

historia opens her mouth, here it comes, “what’s wrong?”

you sigh and throw your head back against ymir’s arm, who just hits her knee against your own.

“i...,” you sigh again, “i can’t tell you.”

ymir rolls her eyes as she lets out a huge huff through her nose. she’s irritated.

“why not? why can’t you tell us? we just wanna help,” her eyebrows furrow when she starts to speak and the hand that isn’t on the couch is motioning to herself and historia.

you start crying again, “you can’t help me with this. and i just can’t tell you.”

historia peeks up at you and her eyebrows are bunched up in concern and confusion.

“why can’t you tell us? please just give us an actual reason, and we’ll back off. all we want to do is help you, so just give us a way that we can. we love you so much, we don’t want to see you upset any longer,” historia’s starting to tear up too, bottom lip sticking out as evidence.

“you guys don’t love me in the same way that i love you,” you sob without thinking, and you reach up to cover your face with your hand. ymir traps it with her own, interlocking her fingers with your’s.

“did... could you repeat that,” historia hiccups, taking ahold of your other hand.

“i love you guys. but not in the same way you love me. i want to kiss you, hold you, and do all that sappy stuff couples do with you guys, but you don’t see me like that,” you look down towards your lap while historia and ymir share a look.

ymir’s lanky hands are grabbing ahold of your cheek’s, thumbs running across your cheekbones then your brow bones. she’s staring at you, a bashful blush on her freckled cheeks.

before you ask what she’s doing, she’s giving you one of the softest kisses you’ve ever had in your entire life. you’re closing your eyes and scrunching up your eyebrows, you don’t want this moment to end.

the two of you stop the kiss when you feel historia climb into your lap, sitting on your thighs. you face towards her, slightly dazed from the amazing kiss you’ve just had with ymir. you briefly wonder if this is what it feels like for historia each time.

historia kisses you too. it’s gentle and a little more persistent as if she were trying to show you that she loves you back. her fingers are tangled with your own, using it to her advantage and gently holding them to the couch cushion.

she pulls away after another second, a light pink spreading across her tear stained face. you’re still dazed, is this real? once you go over everything that’s just happened, you jump.

“oh my god, why’d you two just kiss me?!” you’re freaking out, you’ve just overstepped boundaries, right?!

ymir kisses your cheek and says it bluntly, “we love you too. we’ve wanted to make the relationship a poly for a while... we thought you’d hate us though.”

your jaw drops and you whip your head towards ymir, “HUH?”

“we love you,” historia giggles, she’s rubbing her cheek against your chest now.

“oh.. okay. are you sure?” you hum, a huge and dorky smile coming up on your face after they both nod.

“you look stupid,” ymir snorts, “now can we watch victorious and snuggle?”

“before we do that, why did you try hooking me up with hitch,” you ask with a slight scowl.

“we thought it might help us get over you, but it didn’t work for a lot of reasons. you and hitch are good as friends, but not romance; at least that’s what you told us. and if anything, it just made us jealous and sad,” historia explains, tracing patterns with her finger into your stomach.

“that makes sense, i’m ready to watch victorious,” you pause, “wait, when are you taking me home?” ymir and historia stare at you blankly.

“you’re not going home.”

[manawhaat]

I posted 4,551 times in 2021

50 posts created (1%)

4501 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 90.0 posts.

I added 1,574 tags in 2021

#i'm gonna go fart confetti now - 648 posts

#mana recs - 290 posts

#fic rec - 280 posts

#triple frontier - 69 posts

#supernatural - 56 posts

#spn fanfic - 51 posts

#frankie morales x reader - 47 posts

#spn fic rec - 46 posts

#frankie morales - 44 posts

#art tag - 43 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#ok but if my nephew wasn't so obsessed with dinos i would buy this in an instant.... but him playing with this wouldn't go well with mom/dad

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

does anyone else ever think of/say the word ‘lol’ instead of a laugh when they see something funny or is that just me?

32 notes • Posted 2021-01-30 06:54:03 GMT

#4

A Little Help Getting By pt.3

Title: A Little Help Getting By pt.3

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas, mentions of Donna and other characters.

Summary: With Sam and Dean helping you with your chronic illness, depression, and anxiety, things should be as good as they can get. When they aren’t, though, Dean does what he can to help.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, general descriptions of an unspecified chronic illness and physical health issues, depression, anxiety, jealousy, insecurity, fluff, mild smut/masturbation. The first lines are misleading so don’t go thinking I’m a Sam hater lol. 

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: This is set around Christmas but isn’t necessarily a holiday fic. Commissioned by @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester​ as another part to A Little Help Getting By. Thank you so much for commissioning me for this series and I hope you like what I’ve written. I am also so sorry for how fucking long this took me to finish. @samsexualdeancurious​ @sebbytrash​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ thank you guys for betaing and helping me make this honest and sincere. Commissions are open. Thanks for reading! ❤️❤️

A Little Help Getting By

A Little Help Getting By 2

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38 notes • Posted 2021-02-02 05:11:22 GMT

#3

Juicy

Title: Juicy

Characters: Ray Merrimen x Plus-sized!Reader.

Summary: You can’t sleep so you find a midnight snack. Ray finds one, too *wink wink*. 

Warnings: Plus-sized!Reader, oral (female receiving). 

Word Count: 800ish

A/N: This is my first Merrimen fic and was inspired by some seriously delicious watermelon while watching Den of Thieves. No beta on this so any mistakes are mine. Let me know what you think! ❤️

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85 notes • Posted 2021-01-30 09:47:34 GMT

#2

Purr

Title: Purr

Characters: Plus-sized!Reader x Henry Cavill, ofc friends named Ruth and Alexis.

Summary: When you meet Henry, you instantly click and one night promises to turn into more. 

Warnings: One mention of the film 365 Days, drunk!Henry, fluff, mild/implied smut (all smut is sober because consent is a must and this ain’t one of those fics). 

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Commissioned by @dorky-and-i-know-it​ . No beta, just free-ballin’ this one. :)

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125 notes • Posted 2021-12-13 05:52:01 GMT

#1

Cherry Bomb

Title: Cherry Bomb

Characters: Jensen x Reader

Summary: While you’re on a road trip to visit your friend, your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, leaving you no choice but to accept the help of a handsome stranger. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Heavy Dub-con, groping, fingering, slight panty kink, stranger sex, public sex. 

A/N: There’s no real context about Jensen other than he drives the Impala, so you can imagine him as a regular dude with that car or as himself, whatever floats your boat.  Image from @justjensenanddean. Beta by @that-crazy-drummer-chick​. Let me know if y’all like it :)

All you’d wanted to do was stretch your legs and take a picture of the beautiful panoramic sky, but life had other plans. Half an hour passed as you wracked your brain and flipped through the car manual, trying to figure out why your car wouldn’t start when you’d returned from your back-road photo shoot.  

With no reception or internet service, you feared you’d be stuck if no one came along soon. You’d passed a town a ways back, but it was too far to walk in the starch heat of summer.  

The sound of a car approaching should have been a relief, but the sight of the black car coming over the horizon somehow left you slightly uneasy. All the paranoia of being a woman, you thought, pushing your fear out of your mind as you flagged down the driver. 

The slick black car gleamed under the sun and when the door squeaked open, a tall, rugged, drop-dead-gorgeous man emerged. 

“Car troubles?” he asked, and the rumble of his voice matched that of his car. 

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I don’t know much about cars but the way it was shaking when I tried to start it up, I think it might be a bad spark plug?”

The stranger nodded and stepped forward, extending a large hand your way. “Let’s check it out. I’m Jensen.” 

His friendly smile and attractive face put you at ease, and you shook his hand, a thrilling chill rattling your spine when his skin met yours. “Y/N.”

Jensen scratched through his thick beard and made his way to the front of your car to tinker a bit under the hood, instructing you to get in and try to start it a couple times before he closed the hood and wiped his hands on a bandana he pulled from the back pocket of his jeans. 

“Not a spark plug, but not far off. It looks like your starter died in the heat. Lucky for you, there’s a little gas station and auto shop about thirty minutes North. I can drive you to pick up the part if you want.”

The thought of being in the car with this handsome stranger was exhilarating and worrying at the same time. He seemed trustworthy, but there was an unfamiliar depth to his green eyes that left you hesitant. 

“Um, thank you so much for the offer. I don’t wanna take up your time, though. If you have service, can I maybe borrow your phone and call a tow truck?”

A deep, condescending laugh burst out of his chest and he shook his head in amusement. “Sweetheart, a tow truck is gonna take two hours just to get here and those shady fuckers will charge you an arm and an ass. I’m free all day and know my way around an engine. I insist.” 

He gestured to his car and you reluctantly nodded, grabbing your purse and making sure your valuables were well hidden before walking around to the passenger side of his Impala. A true Texan gentleman, he opened your door for you and waited for you to settle before shutting it behind you. 

When he took his place behind the wheel, a wave of unease welled in your chest: you were trapped in a car with a complete stranger in the middle of nowhere. He shot you a small, reassuring smile and peeled out onto the road, chuckling to himself at the way your hands gripped the seat and door frame as his car roared to life. 

Polite smalltalk filled the space between you for a few minutes, and when the conversation lulled, the roar of the engine and the radio dulled out. The cab was weighted with tension, pulsing and undeniable as your breaths mingled in the confines of the car. Jensen’s hands gripped tightly at the wheel, freckled knuckles just shy of going white against the leather. You tried to keep your eyes to the road, but you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him, trying to take in as much of his gorgeous being as you could.  His hands held your attention though, big and thick. You daydreamed of how strong they must be, how they could be dangerous or delightful, or even both at the same time. 

Every bit of him looked rugged and the more you thought about the muscles bulging under his shirt and the pull of his jeans across his thighs, the warmer you got. Everything blurred around him and you quickly found yourself lost in a fever dream, imagining all the ways this man could probably ruin you. 

The car slowed dramatically, snapping you out of it and setting you at high alert. Jensen smirked at your visible reaction and reached out to place a comforting hand on your thigh. 

“Don’t worry, just a little pitstop at your local fruit truck. You’ll regret driving through Texas without trying Bobby’s Cherries. They’re the best you’ll ever have. Trust me.” 

His hand remained on your thigh, subtle but persistent, thumb gently rubbing your skin. It was an act of reassurance at first, but the prolonged contact made your heart race and you did your best to act natural while he pulled around the trees and parked beside Bobby’s flatbed truck filled with boxes of fresh fruit. 

“You’re just in time, I was about to call it for the day,” Bobby greeted as you both exited the car. 

The two men exchanged respectful smiles and shook hands before Jensen introduced you and requested ‘the best cherries you have, for the lady’. Bobby grinned warmly, as if he had just the thing, and handed Jensen a green plastic box filled with dark red cherries. The older man tipped his ball cap in your direction, and soon enough, his truck rumbled onto the road, leaving you alone with Jensen once more. 

He held up a pack of cigarettes and asked, “Since we’re stopped, do you mind?” With your approval, he slipped one between his lips and raised his lighter. 

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219 notes • Posted 2021-11-07 07:24:47 GMT

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[the-sympathetic-villain]

To Make A Prince Smile

Life's been stressful and Remus is my comfort character, so enjoy some mostly comfort Remus hurt/comfort <3

Prompt: Remus + Arranged Marriage Prompt from @the-snake-god (+More Baking because I get a fair amount of Remus/Baking Prompts)

Characters: Remus, Patton Pairings: Platonic Intruality, Background eventual Logicality and Dukexiety

Word Count: 2836

Warnings: Remus-type content (Sexual Innuendo/references), Arranged Marriage, Casual disregard of one's own life, Brief Beheading mention, Some swearing (Let me know if you'd like anything tagged!)

---

    Nights like this were the only time you'd find Remus quiet. He stretched his arm, fishing into the depths of the kitchen of his crappy cupboard. He continued his search in earnest as he leaned forward on his toes, cringing as the cupboard door creaked loudly in the near deafening silence.

    He froze for a moment as an unconscious grunt escaped his lips as his hand closed around the familiar mixing bowl. He let out a slow breath, keeping his arm rigid as he quietly navigated the piece of glassware out of the cluttered space.

    Remus breathed a sigh of relief as the bowl pulled out silently. He paused in a squat,  running a finger over the chipped rim as a wave of nostalgia washed over him. The last time he'd seen this particular bowl he'd been hours away from being paraded around his first in front of a bunch of old farts with too much power and a kink for making their kids miserable.

    He let out a sigh as he wiped the dust from the old green bowl and stood up to set it on the counter. Strictly speaking, Remus shouldn’t be here. Hell, if he was spotted anywhere besides his quarters tonight, he was sure the courts would be in an immediate uproar. The mere thought was enough to send his mind spiraling a whole new direction as he turned to pull the ingredients from the shelves. He shouldn’t even remember this recipe. It had been years since he had broken in to the kitchen.

    Because my shit brain is broke.

    Remus growled as he dropped the flour on the wooden countertop. He took a step back to take inventory of his progress, chewing his lip to keep his darker thoughts at bay. After a brief pause, he got back to work. His movements were quick as he gathered the little, chocolate candies, put his hands on the oats and counted the eggs he'd snatched from the chicken coops early that morning. The steps jumped to his mind and he lost himself into his focus so much he didn't notice a small man appear in the doorway behind him.

    “You’re not supposed to be—”

    Remus' head jerked up to meet te eyes of the man with reddish brown hair, dressed in a kitchen staff uniform staring at him from the entryway to the kitchen. As their eyes met, he saw a nervous look flashed across the man's eyes and the man's statement suddenly jumped in pitch as he continued.

    “Your highness! Sorry, I —"

    Remus didn't hesitate. He jumped and slid across the countertop and lunging forward to press a hand over the man’s lips. Smirking, he flashed a playful smile down at the wide eyes of the adorable kitchen servant staring back at him.

     “Now, I know you weren’t just about to ruin my fun.”

     The vehement shake of the man's head pulled a chuckle out of Remus and he smirked. The shock in the man's bright, blue eyes glimmered as his eyes flitted between Remus and the kitchen.

    Goddamn, of course he'd be fucking pretty.

    Remus eased his grip and allowed the man to stand up straight up off the wall. He smiled at the man's confusion and held a finger to his lips in a hushing gesture. “Just pretend I'm not here and go about your business as usual. Got it?”

    The man nodded as he averted his gaze. His hesitance gave Remus pause and the prince softened his voice, still smirking at the shocked baked.”

    “Thanks for not tattling on me.” Remus cooed as he dropped his head to meet the man’s eyes with a playful giggle. “Let’s be real. Those lips are too damn pretty to be used for evil anyway.”

     The red tint in the man's cheeks deepened as he dropped his eyes and bowed his head even deeper to his chest. “Of course not, my prince.”

    Remus chewed his lip at the mention of his title, but he backed off as he picked up on the man's discomfort. He eyed the up and down at the man's uniform with a sigh. “You got a name, baker boy?”

    “Patton, sir.”

    “Alrighty then, Pattycake. Do me a favor and drop the titles.” Remus muttered, turning back to the kitchen as Patton’s mouth dropped open uncertainly.

    “I’m not sure I can—"

    “You won’t get in trouble or nothing.” Remus huffed with a bitter smile as he rounded back to his ingredients and pointed back to the kitchen doors. “If you want me gone, all you gotta do is holler for one of the guards and they'll drag me kicking and screaming back to my tower where I belong.”

   He could feel the man's eyes on the back of his head as he turned and sorted his pile of ingredients.

    “I won't—” Patton hesitated as Remus raised an eyebrow at him, but he quickly steeled his resolve and started his own work. “I won't tell anything. Is there something you'd prefer for me to call you?”

    “My name would be a great start.” Remus muttered a bit more bitterly than he intended.

    “Certainly, sir—I mean, Remus.”

    Remus nodded, appreciating that the man seemed willing to let his suspicious behavior slide. He ignored the man, firing up the oven before turning to the cupboard.

    “Do you need help finding—”

     “Nope.” Remus popped as he spun around and set the scale on the countertop to begin weighing his ingredients.

    “How do you—”

    “Used to sneak in here a lot back in the day.” Remus muttered and q nostalgic smile spread across his face as he mixed his dry ingredients. He could feel his hand starting to shake as he threw himself into his comfort recipe. “Until the new bitch of a head chef reported me and got me tossed out for ‘inappropriate princely behavior’, I was in here every other week makin' something.”

    The man behind him snorted quietly, quickly dropping his head with amusement at the prince’s nonchalance. “Your language seems less becoming than I would expect of someone in your position.”

     “You calling me out for saying bitch, pretty boy?”

      “I would never question one of our fearless leaders.” The man looked up at Remus with a coy smile as he tossed his own dough on the countertop.

   “Then, you’re an idiot.” Remus muttered under his breath as he watched the man begin to prepare his proofed dough.

   Patton's smile faltered as he watched Remus carefully. “That kind of talk is treason.”

    “What are they going to do to me? Arrest me?” Remus purred as he pulled out a stack of baking sheets. He leaned onto his elbows and stared at Patton across the island between them. He smiled seductively, wiggling his eyebrows at the baker. “I mean, I'd let you put me in handcuffs any night.”

   The man's brow furrowed and, for the first time, Remus felt disgust in the man's expression. “You should not say such things when you are to be married mere hours from now.”

   Remus sucked in a breath as though he received a quick jab to his stomach. “I hate to shatter the big illusion, but I didn’t exactly get a choice in the matter.”

    The man winced as Remus let out a long sigh, dipping his head away from Remus' exasperation. “I'm sorry, sir. It was not my place to say—"

    “Do I look like I give a shit what you say?”

     Patton looked up, surprised as the prince started making little balls to lay out on the baking sheet. “What?”

    “I'd appreciate if you’d stop looking like I might have you beheaded for looking at me wrong.”

    “Sir—"

    “Just stop. No one hates my position more than me.” Remus couldn’t help but growl as he turned to slip his cookies into the oven. He pulled the timer off the top of the oven and twisted it to the right time, nearly breaking it with his rough movements. “Please, just treat me like a person for the few hours of freedom I have left.”

    “Forgive me. I—” Patton paused as he stared at the back of the prince's tense shoulders. “You’re not what I expected—um, Remus.”

    “What are you even doing here anyway?”

    Patton blinked uncertainly at the abrupt shift in conversation. “What?”

    “The kitchen always used to be empty at this time.” Remus muttered, losing his steam as leaned against the countertop. “It's fucking three in the morning. No one was actually supposed to be here to witness my mental breakdown.”

    “I, uh—had to come in early to start preparing ing the dough for the wedding.” Patton whispered, voice softening as he watched the prince wilted. “You really don’t want to get married. Do you?”

    “I'm not opposed to gettin' hitched or nothing,” Remus muttered, trying to play off his discomfort with a rough laugh. “but I never thought I'd be expected to give it up on the first date.”

    Patton’s heart dropped sympathetically. “You haven’t met him yet?”

    “Once, but we were being supervised so we couldn’t exactly speak our minds.” Remus whispered, turning back to Patton as he leaned back into the wall. “He didn’t even seem that bad. Gloomy, sour and he had circles beneath his eyes so dark it makes me think someone in his family tree got freaky with a damn raccoon but—”

    “Remus—”

    “I know I’m being irrational, but my mind's running so fast and I can't stop chasing the thoughts —”

    “You’re not being irrational, Remus.” Patton stated firmly as he took a step closer.

    “I am—”

    “You’re not. You’re just scared for the future.” Patton whispered, coming around the island to put a gentle hand on Remus’ shoulder. He hesitated, unsure of how the young royal would react to his touch, but one look at the glistening in the prince’s dark eyes sent Patton flying forward. His arms wrapped around the man's waist, melting into the contact as Remus returned the hug.

    “Thanks, Pattycake.” Remus whispered into his shoulder. “It's been a long time since I got a proper hug.”

    Patton leaned back at the melancholy in Remus' words and his heart ached at the prince’s reluctance to let go. “You don’t get a lot of hugs?”

    “Nah, my parents aren’t the touchy-feely types—” Remus sighed as he let his hands his hands dropped to his sides. “—and everyone else can't wait to get out of the room away from me.”

    Patton’s eyes fixed on Remus for a long moment before Remus' timer startled him from his thoughts. He reluctantly released the prince as he moved to pull his cookies out of the oven.  Without a second thought, the prince absently popped one of the steaming, hot treats in his mouth, and Patton flinched at the thought, but the prince seemed completely unbothered.

    “And with that, I'm not going to be a dick to the only person willing to treat me like a person today.” Remus muttered with a vacant expression. He shoveled half a dozen cookies into his pockets and strutted to the door with a two-finger salute back to the cute baker. “See ya later, sweet cheeks. Keep those buns nice and toasty—"

    “Wait, Remus.” Patton raised a hand to stop him from going. “You don’t have to go.”

    “Yeah, I do.” Remus muttered, lingering in the doorway. “If I don't scale back up to my tower, my babysitters might think I'm trying to play hookie on the new ball and chain.”

    Patton’s face suddenly paled. “Scale the—You climbed down the tower to get here?"

   Remus grinned at Patton’s expression. “Yep.”

    “That’s four stories!” Patton’s mouth dropped open in bewilderment. “You could have died!”

    Remus shrugged, unconcerned. “What a beautiful wedding.”

    “Remus,” Patton whispered as empathy. “Please, stay. You could hurt yourself.”

    “Listen, I appreciate you letting me indulge in my old habits.” Remus grinned as he tipped a cookie towards Patton. “but I ain’t your problem. You don't have to fix me.”

     Patton's eyes flashed with desperation as Remus turned to go. “What if—what if I want it to be my problem?”

     Remus blinked, furrowing his brow. “What?”

     “We could be friends.” Patton whispered, suddenly nervous. “What?”

    “I, um—” Remus couldn’t help but stare as the baker's face turned red enough to match his hair. For the first time in their conversation, he fell silent as his own shock took over.

     “If you want to, I mean.” Patton stumbled on his words and he started to ramble as Remus remained quiet. “I know you’ve got a lot going on today, but—”

    “But why?”

    Patton paused, staring at the confusion in at the prince’s vacant stare. “Y-you seem like you need a friend, Remus.”

   “And the nerdy baker wants to be my friend?”  

    “Kinda.” Patton muttered, feeling shy for the first time in years. “I could probably even get the head baker to lift your ban in the kitchens if you wanted. He's usually willing to do what I ask.”

    “Oh?” Remus whispered.  He could still feel his shock as Patton continued, failing to think to censor his own words as they fell from his lips. “And who'd you have to sleep with to make that happen?”

    “My fiancé.” Patton whispered, holding his hand up to show off a shiny, golden band.

     “Well, no shit.” Remus laughed as he took Patton’s hand and examined the ring. “Pattonpop's got a boyfriend.”

     “Fiancé.” Patton corrected with a bright smile as Remus held his hand and smiled at the ring.

    “Sounds like you like him.” Remus smiled as he let Patton take back his hand. He leaned against the countertop, feeling a moment of peace as he watched Patton start to glow.

    “I do.” Patton whispered with a fond smile. “He's smart and kind. Even though he's not very good at showing his emotions, he still makes a effort to know mine.”

    “And he's good to you?” Remus stretched across the counter between them, grinning at the warm flush on Patton’s face thinking of his fiancé.

    “Yeah, he’s really good to me.” Patton whispered as he spun the ring on his finger and smiled to himself.

    “Congratulations, baker boy.” Remus grinned, taking a bite of his warm cookie as he watched Patton. “You’re really out there living the dream.”

    Patton tipped his he up to Remus and guilt flashed in his eyes. “Oh, I'm sorry. I should have—”

    “For what, short stack?” Remus whispered with a smirk, leaning on his elbows.

    Patton's lip twitched sympathetically. “I'm—I’m talking about my own relationship when you’re clearly upset about yours.”

    “Oh, don't worry ‘bout that. What's the worst thing that can happen today?” Remus shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “The guy might end up a bore, but at least my parents will be off my back. I'll be someone’s perfect trophy like they always wanted.”

    “He could be nice—”

    “Maybe.”

    “Remus—”

    “Unfortunately, my time's up.” Remus muttered, reluctantly staggering to the door. “If I don't get back, they'll start raising alarms."

    “Okay, but—” Patton hesitated, taking Remus arm.  “—you're going to take the stairs, right?”

    “Since you asked nicely, I’ll think about it.” Remus purred as he stood up and stepped to the door. He let out a small grunt as Patton rushed forward and wrapped his hands around his waist. His muscles tensed for a moment before relaxing into Patton’s hug.

    “Whatever happens today, you can always come visit me here, okay?”

    “Sure thing, Pattycake.” Remus whispered as he returned the hug. “Thank for putting up with me for a little bit. I hope you enjoy the rest of the cookies.”

    “I will,” Patton beamed, looking back at the baked goods. “What kind are they?”

    “I don't know if they got a proper name.” Remus shrugged. “I always called ‘em monster cookies, ‘cause they’re a concoction of all my favorite shit. They taste alright though. I promise.”

    “I’m sure they’re delicious.” Patton whispered as he beamed up at him.

    Remus shrugged, standing up and wandering to the door. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you.”

    “It was nice to meet you too. I—I know you’re going to be busy for a while, but if you want to visit, I’m here most days.” Patton smiled as Remus lingered in the doorway. “Promise you’ll come back?”

    “I will. Once the chaos calms down and bit, I’ll come by.” Remus whispered with a sad wave back at him. “This'll—This'll make today a little easier, so thanks. See ya later, baker boy.”

    “You’re going to be okay, Remus.”

    Remus smirked at Patton’s genuine smile. “I hope so, Pattycake.”

    “Good-bye.” Patton whispered as he watched his new friend nodded and reluctantly turned to stagger out the door. The corner of his lips curled into a sad smile as he watched the prince go, hoping that the prince was dreading his day a little bit less now.

--

General Taglist

@justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

[jrueships]

I’m aware that this was not the point of the kawhi and pg retiring together post but pg calling kawhi honey!!!!! Omg!!! I’m in love with nicknames so this was so cute 😭. And Luka having them for Dennis in the redacted post !! CUTE “honey” 🥲 “kitten” 😳 “SWEETHEART”!!!! Ahsjsksj- *explodes* anyway do any of your other ships have nicknames for each other 🤔

GOOOOD bruh this is SUCH a good ask literally like. im SO sorry it took me so long to finally answer it but I've been looking at this and trying to figure out how to do it justice FOREEEVER it was just That good 2 me. IM SO GLAD U THOUGHT THAT WAS CUTE!!! I LOVE ships where the couples give each other nicknames I DUNNO they hit DIFFERENT!! The way yall be reading my tags 😭 !! IS NICE 🤩🤩‼‼ BUT YEA!!!! LETS GET RIGHT 2 IT!!!

Marcus Smart+Giannis: OKAY so I think that they BOTH kinda like??? Secretly Pride themselves on being GREAT at nicknames lol. Giannis's "khash money and big money" (Khris STILL calls jrue big money its so funny. The bucks love giannis so much and honestly?? Who doesnt??? ((Harden))) I think giannis uses nicknames more tho?? Because marcus wants to be cool and not look so sappy for giannis but sometimes it slips 🥰 ANYWAYS THOOO i think giannis calls marcus like "SMARTIES!!!!" or "MY SWEET!!!" or something endearing old grandparents call each other And like. They run to each other and giannis sweeps him up in his long arms and they spin around laughing all cheesy like that!!! Or sometimes giannis will call him, the very loving, "mahkus shart" or "fart" and then try excusing it on having a relapse on the English language even tho they both know Damn well he's just being a little shit. But when giannis and Markus are cuddling in bed together during the sleepy hours of trying to drift into dreamland, giannis probably calls marcus like.. "stars", or somethin. Kisses his freckles and his acne scars. Marcus probably calls Giannis "gianny!!" On the downlow or "hey, deer" or "beanpole" LMAO. Sometimes "prancer" or "big man" But for the public he does his 'GRANT.' tone but with "GIANNIS." instead to get his attention

Trae + John collins: I think they stick to their usual stupid nicknames like. Trae is IceTrae and john is The Baptist. Trae probably makes jokes about wanting John to wash his feet when they're high together. Trae calls John his "girlfriend" his "wifey" his "bae" you know whatever typical fuckboys use to make their tiktok gfs feel special! John is probably like "dude, im a guy." but can't help but feel his heart beating at the nicknames anyways because he is WEEK and STOOPID!!!! BUT OF COURSE they use the typical bros and dudes and mans!! John probably has to call trae "big man" or "chief" LMFAO. Trae literally does Not have this kinda energy but despite that... he probably really Really wants to be called d*ddy IM SORRY IM JUST TELLIN THE FACTS OKAY. ANYWAYS

Draymond+Swaggy P: swaggy p will sometimes not acknowledge dray if he does not call him swaggy p*nis at least Once a month. Nick could be hanging off a cliff on the verge of falling and Draymond would extend his hand out saying "NICK!! GRAB MY HAND!!!" And nick would just cross his arms and be like "refer to me with my Full Name, Draymond." and then plummet to the void. Draymond does Not call swaggy p swaggy p*nis tho, and will be actually really glad that he gets a moment of silence from Nick's deranged fuckboyness. Nick never wins the silent games with dray. He probably ends up trying to tug on his hoodie or vandalize dray's things to try and get his attention again. ANYWAYS nick tries to get away with calling dray anything really cheesy that he THINKS is hot. Like "hello my gorgeous hobgoblin" or "hey butterfly bae 🥰🥰" and dray tells him to shut up but he secretly enjoys them LMAO. Dray probably just calls nick "swaggy" or "nick". Bitch in the bedroomlolANYWAYS

Pat bev+Lou will: yes, I snuck them in here SHUDDUP my game MY rules!!! I think pat would be like... committing a crime .. kicking a fire hydrant and turning over cars or whatever, but then he'll hear lou call him "Patti !" and he'll suddenly stop and snuggle into his lap or somethin LMAO. Idk... I love.. the grandpas 🥰🥰 crazy man who has soft spot for destruction, crime, and lou will

Jeff teague+LeBron: LISTENLISTENLUS- OKAY. LISTEN. I love their relationship in like a FUNNY sense like.... bron really sweeped teague SO many times it's FUNNY. I like to think about them as the like... D-classed villain, who can only rob small children, declaring the strongest hero Ever as his arch nemesis... and the superhero not seeing them as a threat at ALL. LIKE WHEN TEAGUE SHOVED BRON ONCE and bron just got back up without a care LMAO. I think Teague stays up all night dreaming about one day finally like BEATING beating LeBron.. and when they meet on court he's like "your castle will be MINE as will be your CROWN and your CAVS, 'kiNg bRoN' " and LeBron just laughs, pats him on the back, and says, "okay Jeff lol" and then blows his team out by 50 points . AnNYWAYS yea i think teague comes up with a Lot of not pg13 nicknames for bron and bron just calls him Jeff

Robin +Kris Dunn: kris probably calls Robin "old man" and "twiggy" and "birdnest brain" and a thousand other teasing words, and he smirks up at him expecting a reaction, but Robin just laughs and calls him "peanut" and kris goes home and claws off the wallpaper to his bathroom walls

Myles+ Victor oladipo: myles is a nerd so he loves when vic calls him "myles Morales" because IT'S CLEVER. and hes a geek. Victor gets called Viccy or just Oladipo ! Sometimes thingamajig !!!

Keldon+Anthony Edwards: I JUST THINK THEIR PERSONALITIES WOULD BE GOOD TOGETJER anyways I think keldon would call him "eddy!!!" While Ant prefers to call keldon like "my shawty boo Thang 🥰🥰" LMAO

Russ and kd are the classic "only call each other by the last names until something serious comes up". like maybe they pass each other in the hall. Russ with his classic head down and beady eyes to the floor stance. They don't look at each other as they exchange a cold "Westbrook." "DURANT . " but then when conversations get heated or they start talking things over... Durant finally calls Russell "Russ.." and westbrook calls him "kd." Again .....

Fultz/Fox: they go by fultz and fox!!! Sometimes "Feds" and "Fox"!! I think because Fox is a weeb he calls Markelle the "vegeta" to his goku. The sasuke to his naruto etcetc!! While fultz smiles and thinks about gay astrology/ poetic analogies like " de'aaron.. the sun to my moon. The flame to my hearth. The key to my heart". and feigns petting Fox's past goku hair LMAO

demar/kyle: deebo calls Kyle Fat Ass. it's very romantic

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Hello, could you do a Misfits Nathan X Fem reader one shot where Nathan and reader open their Christmas presents, and Reader surprises Nathan with a positive pregnancy test, and he is shocked, but happy, and then they go to Nathans mum's house for Christmas dinner and announce the news. His Mum then talks about how Cute Nathan was as a baby, and embarrasses him, and reader laughs and smiles at hearing stories of baby Nathan. (sorry this request is long) Merry Christmas and a happy new year.

Baby’s First Christmas

A/N: This is a request based prompt, one of the Christmas ones. I’m not sure if the other will get out by Christmas, but I’ll try my best. A lovely and fluffy Nathan x reader one. This is a double request, so I answered the request to this one, but they contain the same material. Makes it much easier for me lol.

Warnings: none really, very fluffy, but breastfeeding, food, small mention of coitus

Cheeky Tag List: @misskittysmagicportal, @robertsheehanownsmyass, @joz-stankovich, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @wasabimia, @iamsexytrash, @midnightseance, @the-novel-on-the-left

“Good morning love.” Nathan said, holding Lily above you, where she stared at you, a bit deftly, but you know it was because she didn’t really know what to expect. Either way, you smiled and sat up, letting her into your arms.

“Good morning to you too. How’s she been today?” you ask, cheek brushing against Lily’s head, curls tickling you.

“Very good. When I walked into her nursery, she was already awake and just gawking at me, y’know like babies do. She’s been very sweet though.” Nathan said, averting his eyes as you lowered your shirt, Lily latching herself immediately.

  Even though it’d been months since Lily’s birth, Nathan still looked away when you breastfed. It’s a natural thing, but his response was always “Yeah, but I feel like I’m being disrespectful if I think about sucking on ‘em too.” You chuckle as you think about it, and suddenly remember that Christmas was upon the two of you. You moved from out of bed, and slowly walked to the living room, where Nathan lay by the tree, striking a pose. Multiple gifts were piled under the large pine tree, and Lily broke away from her feeding to look at the tree, eyes full of wonder.

“Aw, bless. Look at her little hands!” Nathan said, walking up to you two, kissing the top of Lily head once more, making her let out a very cute giggle.

   Her hands were reaching out to try to touch the lights, but you two knew better. Lily had the tendency to pull at things, like any other baby, and it would end in disaster. He smiled at his daughter, and you sat on the floor as Nathan brought you presents, Lily happily tearing at some of the wrapping paper. Both of your parents, (even Nathan’s dad) were very supportive of the pregnancy, as shown through seeing them in-person, as well as the gifts you two received. Lily received a new pacifier, as well as a couple pairs of clothes from each side of the family, and she squealed upon seeing the tassels lined upon one of the shirts. Whenever either of you wore anything with string on an outfit, Lily could and would spend HOURS picking at the string and giggling at it. You were amazed at how much time she could spend playing with it. Neither of you could leave your hair down, or else it would be at the hands of Lily Young, who would pull at it, and never let go.

“Okay, time for coffee and breakfast, huh Nathan?” you asked, smiling up at him. There were still presents under the tree, but as per the household rule, if you got hungry, you’d eat, even if it’s time for presents. 

 Nathan cooked a simple breakfast, eggs and bacon, and the two of you happily ate, and as Lily grabbed at the two of you, you remembered the Christmas of last year, which was much more different than this one’s.

“Merry Christmas babe! I got you a pre-tree present to open right in bed!” you yelled, wakingNathan up from his sleep. He smiled upon seeing you, smiling at him, as the past few weeks you’d been a tad bit ill.

“Ah, Merry Christmas day to ye’ too. What’ve you got for me, huh?” he said, reaching for the gift. His chest peeked out from the top of the sheets, and you couldn’t help but reach your hand out and rub it, him smiling at the gesture.

  You’d had a bit of a guess that you’d been pregnant for a couple weeks, as your period was a month late, which hadn’t happened in almost 10 years. You’d also been sick for weeks on end, and it was pure torture for you to experience. Nathan had even noticed, and when he noticed you were having a particularly rough day, he’d make you a light dinner, and rub your back and feet. He’d picked up a small job, and was trying to make ends meet for your minimal apartment. So, when you thought about pregnancy, and how many times Nathan was just too horny for protection, the dots started to connect. So, you got a pregnancy test, as well as an ultrasound, and wham bam, shanglang (and a shalalalala), you’re pregnant with Nathan’s kid. You accepted it, and the two of you had been talking about kids for a while. You decided to tell him in a way he could accept better. Instead of a more serious talk, it was a gift.

“This a tampon or something?” Nathan asks, holding the test in his face, looking at you. You shook your head and laughed, and pointed at the plus sign. Nathan glanced at what you were pointing at, and it took a moment for another emotion to fall upon his face. It was joy, and he went forward to hug you.

“You could've told me you were pregnant love.” Nathan muttered into your neck, and hugged you a bit tighter, satisfying your senses. You smiled at his reaction, and as his lips moved to your stomach, where he began talking to your baby, and a few tears slipped from your face. He moved back up to kiss your lips, and the two of you stayed in bed for a bit of celebration before moving downstairs to look at the rest of your presents.

  Your brain took you back to the present, and Nathan had Lily in his arms, and she was reaching towards his chest, and you both laughed. She had a tendency to grab toward people’s chest, it was her favorite place to cuddle, and if you two had to go in public with her, strollers would have to be forgotten. It kept her from fussing, and kept everything calm.

“Alright, we need to get ready to go to me mam’s, alrighty?” Nathan said, after cleaning breakfast up and heading upstairs.

“Fine, you can get Lily cleaned and dressed while I shower, then we can swap after I’m done, alright?” you say, grabbing your clothes from the closet. Nathan nods his head, and you kiss Lily’s forehead before heading to the bathroom, taking your time to get ready. 

 It’d been a very busy few months with a new baby, and learning to adjust to her in your lives. You and Nathan used to go out for weekly dates and enjoy each other’s company, but you couldn’t even remember the last time you two went out together. It was ages ago. Even if it was to your family, you were grateful to get out of the house and see other people. A few minutes later, you waltzed out of the bathroom, fresh as a rose, and Nathan eyed you up and down, smirking at your form. 

“You are very beautiful and I have the very strong desire to bang you, but I promise. When Lily’s being tended to by family, that ass is mine.” Nathan whispers, kissing your neck before handing Lily over to you, who was drifting off to sleep. 

  Your job was going to be very easy until you two had to drive to Nathan’s mum’s house, which might cause unwanted chaos with Lily. If she woke up in a car, she could either A. fall back asleep. B. immediately start crying, scaring both you and Nathan, or C. stay calm and be her usual, bubbly self. Either way, you were happy to be out of the house. Once Nathan emerged from the restroom, dapped out in his grey suit, you two gathered your baby bag, keys, and adult snacks (bc Nathan accidentally ate baby snacks and he wasn't happy about it) and walked out of the door with time to spare. The ride was very calm, and as he drove, you sat in the back of the car and your thoughts drifted back to last year’s Christmas.

“Come on baby, can’t be late!” you yelled through the door to Nathan, who was taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

“I gotta perfect my hair, my mum can’t know we’ve been shagging as a reason for the season!” he yelled back, and you heard the water run once more.

  You rolled your eyes with affection, and went to the living room, and got a glass of water to help cool yourself down. You were nervous about telling Nathan’s mom, as anyone would be, but you just couldn’t shake the anxiety off. Nathan eventually emerged from the bathroom, and you two rushed down the steps of the apartment, trying not to be too terribly late to the Christmas dinner his mom has prepared for you two. You rarely ever saw her, but goodness, could that woman cook up a storm. You always left her place stuffed and ready to crash into bed due to a food coma.

  Upon arrival, you shivered in your seat, and got ready to tell Nathan’s mom the big news as soon as you entered, but every time you felt good about it, your anxiety shut you down. She offered you a glass of wine, but you had to turn her down, and she just blamed it on the fact that you were driving, and Nathan loved himself a pint. When dinner arrived, your stomach turned itself into knots, and all you wanted to do was scream. When she began carving the turkey, your brain farted, and all of a sudden you blurted out.

“Ms. Young, I’m pregnant so….that’s why I didn’t really want any wine, I’m sorry, I’ve just not been feeling up to it lately.” and a small tear fell from your eye.

“Aw, love, don’t feel bad, that’s wonderful news. Never expected Nathan to be one for children, but I’m very happy about this. I’ve got some lovely stories and pictures from when he was a little babby.” she replied, putting your hand over yours.

  You giggled and thanked her, Nathan coming from behind to kiss the top of your head, but preparing for the stories about to be told. His mom showed you pictures of Nathan with mall Santa, as well as the Easter bunny. He was cringing at the thought of himself doing anything even remotely cute. She showed you pictures of him chasing after the family dog, and even one of him with an academic achievement award, one for reading.

“I didn’t know you were literate Nathan. Now I know to get you books for your birthday, you twat.” you say, teasing Nathan, much to his dismay.

“Oh, he really likes reading, let me tell you. He would plow through so many books, I thought of renting out the library for him. He would never stop reading this one.” she said, looking over at him, who was nose deep in his old copy of The Hobbit. A faint blush covered his cheeks, and his mom ruffled his curls, and Nathan smirked at her, thanking her.

  You returned back to the present, and Nathan looked over to you, kissing your hand. You two smiled, and as you headed to his mom’s house, you knew it was going to be much better.

“Nathan, how are you. And his lovely partner, AND SWEET BABY LILY AWW!” his mother said, fawning over the three of you. Lily cooed at her grandmother, and was handed over to her, happily accepted.

  You all stepped into her apartment, and brought in the baby bag, almost forgotten in the car. You helped out in the kitchen with Nathan’s mom as Lily played in the living room, watching her father look at childhood photos. Nathan took his daughter from her playpen, and held her up to the pictures, talking to her quietly. You glanced from the kitchen, and worked the dough for quick pie, Nathan’s mom catching you slacking a bit.

“He’s a keeper, honey. And you are too. You should hear the way he talks about you to me. Nothing but love and admiration in his voice, and even now, talking to Lily. He doesn’t really open up much, not even to me. But the way that he’s talking to Lily right now is really lovely.” she says, looking at you.

“Yeah. He’s been super supportive during everything and I seriously couldn’t be happier. He’s so wonderful. Always talking to Lily and being so gentle with her. You raised an amazing son.” you said, smiling.

 When the food was ready, the lot of you piled into the living room, and ate a full meal, plus desserts. Lily was fully asleep by the time you all were wrapping everything up, and Nathan’s mom offered you two the guest room to stay in for the night. Nathan happily accepted it, and you slept peacefully that night, thankful of the support in your life.

Masterlist

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Horse Friends

Yuu runs into Epel and gets an offer worth taking. Contains coarse language, discussions of masculinity/femininity and a fierce case of foot-in-mouth disease. Check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, let me know if you enjoyed it, and if you ever want to let me know what you liked? Please do.

~*~*~*~

You like most creatures. Anything that deserves a pet should get one if they want it. So, you'd thought to yourself, let's go pet something you don't get to see every day. That's how you found yourself kicking around the edge of the horse pasture, watching majestic beasts eat and fart and amiably ignore your existence.

"You like them?"

You turned, and saw Epel had come up beside you.

"They're pretty cool. Not something I'm around much."

He nodded. "Wanna see a really big one?"

~*~*~*~

Did the barn smell bad or just like a barn? You couldn't tell, you didn't get to spend time in them and had no frame of reference. Where did they put the waste? You were thinking of asking where they buried the dead ones so you could go hunting with a shovel later when Epel came through the door, with the most fuckoff huge animal you've ever seen in your life. It was so tall you wondered if you could stand under it; a soft dapple grey, with long feathered fetlocks and a mane that reached past it's knees. It had to duck to get through the doorway, and stood, blinking, when Epel stopped, nevermind that this thing could probably swallow him whole if it had half a mind to.

"Are you sure it's not a kelpie?"

He laughed. "Ain't drowned anyone! 's nothing but a big guy. He's friendly! He's the one we use to teach riding."

You tentatively walked over and offered a hand. You did like horses - you really did! But they were very big, this one especially, and were deeply antsy despite being able to trample things easily. The last think you wanted was it to smell your nervousness and freak out.

It simply bypassed your hand, and instead nosed at your face with it's snout.

"He likes you!"

"I like him too." You prrbted his nose while he sniffed at you. "He got a name?"

"Beans."

"No!"

"Yes! Really."

"I can't believe Vil would let that slide."

"Yeah well, Beans was here first." Epel looked back and forth between you. "You want to try riding him? He's very gentle."

"Not today. But I'll take you up on that."

~*~*~*~

"Pull back to stop!"

You pulled back on the reins, and Beans stopped, and then started to back up.

"Nope, too much!"

You eased your grip and he stopped, flicking his ear an an errant fly.

This was the third time Epel had you up on the horse, and the first time he actually let you have the reins instead of simply leading you around. You weren't in a state of panic whenever the beast under you did something unexpected (though you jumped every time he or another horse whinnied; the sound drilled through your ears into the back if your skull in the worst way). The whole thing was pretty fun! Even if your legs got sore from straddling something as big around as you were tall.

Epel moved easily around on his own horse, a delicate-looking white stallion with murder in his heart, clearly a perfect pair. In the little bit of hanging out you'd done, you'd learned a few things about him:

- He hated being called cute. He was, which made it worse, but being treated as something precious drove him nuts.

- He was, by natural inclination, a rough and tumble farm boy. You knew more about motorbi- no, magical wheels than you ever had in your life, and now knew some truly vile curses that sounded wonderful coming out of his mouth.

- He really liked hanging out with someone he didn't have to pretend elegance around; which you had a feeling was part of why he started giving you private lessons. You were many things, but paragon of grace and propriety you were not.

Remembering what he told you, you lightly flicked the reins, and Beans started forward at a sedate pace. 

"There you go!" Epel beamed at you, and you reflected your own smile back at him.

~*~*~*~

Today, he seemed sour, and you could not understand why, so instead of gong in to greet the horses, you stopped and asked what crawled up his ass and died.

"Nothin' you'd know 'bout."

"Try me."

He stood there glowering, until he finally said, "Am I girlier than you?"

You had to stop and really consider that. "Who started on that one?"

"Some asshole. They said you're manlier than I'll ever be."

You snorted. "That's like, a matter of opinion. I'm kinda butch, sure, but what it is is that femininity is... it requires effort." You moved your hands, in an effort to grasp the words. "It takes effort to put on makeup, or shave your legs. Stuff like that is required to be seen as feminine if you're a girl. Neither of which you do? You're not feminine, really. You're young and pretty. And pretty was never exclusive to girls."

This did not seem to help, so you continued digging. "And you're real pretty, Epel. Combine that with being real young, it makes you cute to others, but like... give it a few years. Yeah. You get a little older and lose the young babyface. You'll still be pretty, but you won't be read as cute, not the way everyone reads you now."

All of his sullen fury was now clearly at you.

"I'm sorry dude. I don't know how to use my words right. But I sure as hell ain't more of a dude than you. Because you actually are one."

He still stood there, and you thought of something to lighten the mood. "Did you kick his ass?"

He finally cracked a smile. "Thoroughly."

"Good. You want to do this today, or do you wanna just vent at me over people being assholes?"

He thought for a moment. "The second one, but don't say anything 'til I say so. You suck at making me feel better."

You nod and give an okay sign, which got a snicker out of him.

~*~*~*~

"And he says I shouldn't lift weights! 'oooh Epel, it'll ruin the lines', Vil can fuck right off and choke on mangey pig cock, he hasn't missed a day of lifting for eight years unless he was too sick to get out of bed." 

You nodded, petting Lucius. He'd seen the both of you out on the grass and wandered over to play with people who were friendly, but not desperate.

"He's all Pomefiore ideals this and that and AUUUGH. I wanna stick a fork up his ass and beat down the doors of Savannahclaw until they let me change dorms."

You raised a finger, and he nodded. "But they don't do dorm changes."

"They do not and I hate it so fucking much." He flopped onto the grass, and you offered a hand that he high-fived. "It sucks. They wouldn't even move me when I went to beat Vil's ass when I first got sorted."

"You what."

"I did! Only got a swing in before he beat me down, but I tried." 

"Please say there's a recording of this."

"He cursed every electronic in a hundred-foot radius just to make sure no one had footage."

"Boo."

He nodded. "That could have made all the money."

You nodded, until Lucius caught your eye and you swatted at Epel to get him to watch. Lucius, crawling through the grass, crept, sprung... and walked back over with a headless lizard, the missing piece long down his gullet.

"Finish it up, Lucius."

Lucius, his play done, walked away, leaving you both with the corpse.

"Gross. Should we bury it?"

"Maybe." The gears are turning, and you instead fetch back a grumbling Lucius. "Epel. What is this?"

He raised an eyebrow. "A fat old cat?"

You held up the irritated cat with a smile. "This is, pound for pound, the most efficient land predator on the planet. I know of cats that have single handedly eradicated entire species. Cats are eight pounds of asskicking. They will fu-OW" You dropped Lucius and checked the welling scratches on your arm. "Cats will fuck you up. But cats are also fluffy and cute and like to be cuddled. They're elegant and lovely, silly and playful. The murder and the cute is inherent to the cat."

He frowned. "Where are you going with this."

"I'm saying you're basically a cat."

He was silent for a beat. "Thanks, I hate it."

"How much?"

"Enh." He wiggled his hand. "I get what you're trying to say, at least. As long as you don't run around calling me that I’m good."

"A cat?"

"No, other C word."

Your brain drew the only conclusion you could think of. "A cunt?"

He let out the ugliest laugh you'd ever heard, and things were good.