#putting these in the tags fuck it we ball

[sayyestoheav3nn]

Nights Like This: Part Three

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: language, angst

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: guys are we riding at dawn or not lmaoo??? if i forgot to tag you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list please feel free to lmk 💕

“Tell me what?”

Serena and Roman froze, which angered Zoe to another level, because it’s one thing to screw her over, but its another to play in her fucking face.

Roman turned towards Serena,“Give us some space…” His voice was stern, more of a demand than a request. Serena briefly looked at Zoe and sighed, she proceeded to grab her keys and walk outside.

“Where the fuck is she going, you both seemed to have a lot to say.” Zoe started walking towards the door to confront Serena, but as she was about to reach the door her movements were halted when Roman grabbed her by the waist gently pulling her back.

“Baby we need to talk, just you and me please…” he pleaded. Seconds later she heard a car engine start. This bitch really had the audacity to leave without saying a word.

“Oh so now you want to fucking talk? Because you damn sure didn’t have shit to say before I found the condoms,” Zoe sneered as she yanked her body away from him.

Roman paused and took a deep breath, slowly rubbing his hand over his beard, “Baby I fucked up, I’m sorry...”

“You’re sorry, is that really all you have to say?” Her voice cracked, she could feel her throat begin to tighten.

Roman felt like the biggest piece of shit. Seeing the exhaustion and pain in her eyes, hurt him. He hated to see her cry, let alone being the reason behind it. There was no excuse for what he did, and he knew it. Which is exactly why he didn’t want to tell her, but actions have consequences. He made his bed, it was time to fucking lie in it.

“Baby I—” As he began to speak Zoe cut him off, “Roman I’m gonna ask you this one time. Did you or did you not, cheat on me with Serena?”

Roman lowered his head, his gaze now shifted towards the floor. He paused in silence for a short moment, she could see his hands were slightly fidgeting. Roman briefly looked up at her, still avoiding making eye contact.

“Yes,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

Zoe’s heart felt like it was ripped out of her chest. She knew the answer, but she wanted him to have the balls to actually fucking say it. Tears that she had been fighting back started to roll down her face, sobs escaping her. “Fuck you, Roman.” She started to walk away, but was stopped when Roman walked in front of her stopping her in her tracks.

“Zo don’t leave, please just talk to me.”

“You’re such a piece of shit, I fucking trusted you. She wiped away some of her tears, which was of no use considering she couldn’t stop crying, “My best friend? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve only met her a handful of times!” she yelled.

“I want you to tell me why, you wanted to talk, so fucking talk,” she hissed.

Roman’s eyes were glistened with tears, his shoulders were slumped as he inhaled a deep breath, “I—I came to her to help me plan our trip and your birthday dinner. I figured since I don't know shit when it comes to throwing parties, I’d hire someone who not only works in that profession, but someone who would know what you’d like.”

“Yeah it seems she ended up finding exactly what I liked,” she scoffed.

Roman put his head down, his voice getting lower, “I ended coming over at different times over the span of two months to approve some of the planning details. Little by little I noticed she was flirting more than usual, in the beginning I tried to ignore it, but over time I—I began to like the attention.”

Zoe felt sick to her stomach, she listened quietly while angrily wiping away her tears. She wanted to leave to avoid hearing this bullshit, but a part of her wanted to know why. Why would two people who claimed to love her, hurt her in the most disrespectful way possible.

Seeing Zoe silently crying made the pit of Roman’s stomach drop, he was disgusted with himself. How in the hell did he let something so stupid, jeopardize what he had? He loves Zoe, he couldn’t give two fucks about Serena. Yet, he let a moment of weakness ruin everything and hurt the one person he loved more than anyone.

He walked towards her, and gently lifted her face. “Baby, please look at me,” Zoe refused, and that fucking killed him.

“I don’t need all the details, just tell me what happened...” her lower lip was slightly trembling. She pushed him away, making sure to keep a distance between them.

“Before my last visit, I let my ego cloud my judgment. I went to the store, bought the condoms and headed over to her house.” Roman paused, he was internally struggling to say the rest, but he knew he had to, he owed her that. “We kissed, and she ended up giving me head.”

“Let me guess, you returned the favor?” Silence. Just as she expected. “Of course you did because you’re such a generous tribal chief, right?”

He took a deep breath, his chin dipping to his chest. “I went with the intention to fuck her Zo, I did. And I know that there’s no amount of apologies in the world that will change what I did, but I need you to know that I didn’t fuck her.”

“So you’re telling me the condom unwrapped itself?”

“I was going to fuck her baby, I was. But when the time came, I thought of you, and I just— I just couldn’t do that to you.”

Roman walked towards her, gently moving some of her hair out of her face, he wiped some of her tears away with his thumb. He felt a sharp pang of guilt seeing her so broken, the weight of what he did was fully sinking in his chest.

“Baby please look at me.”

She doesn’t know why she actually did, but she felt so numb as if nothing even really mattered anymore. She looked at his big brown eyes, eyes that she once viewed with love and admiration, she now saw with despair.

A few tears slipped down his face. “Zoe please understand that she means absolutely fucking nothing to me. I love you baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I lied to you, I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“If it was me that did this to you, how would you feel?”

He sighed heavily, facing down. He couldn’t even say a word. What a fucking hypocrite.

“You knew all the bullshit that I went through with my ex, and you went and did this shit. I opened up to you, and you promised me you would never do what he did to me. I feel so fucking stupid to have actually believed you. The fact that you wouldn’t have told me shit had I not caught you makes me sick to my stomach. You want to know what I think Roman? I think you’re a fucking coward.”

Zoe grabbed her keys and headed towards the door. She didn’t care about leaving her things behind, that slut seemed to like her leftovers anyways.

“Zo, please don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. Every single emotion that she tried to hold in was released, she was crying uncontrollably. She ignored him and was able to get in her car.

“You did this to yourself. You don’t have to worry about me anymore Roman, you and Serena can go fuck yourselves.”

Zoe started driving home, but the farther she got the more her anger built. She pulled over at a store to park and try to compose herself, she was so mad her hands were trembling. The memory of Serena letting her cry on her shoulder while being the actual cause of her tears, and leaving without even trying to apologize made her even more pissed. Fuck this. She put her gps back on Serena’s address, enough is enough. The only thing on her mind right now, was beating this bitch’s ass.

[lazy-gyu]

tags: nsfw , dom!top reader , sub!bot yandere bf , needy yandere , mdni

Thinking about fucking a pretty needy yandere boy in an empty classroom after school. You're so cruel to him; he's completely naked while you are fully clothed with only your belt unbuckled and your cock out, fucking him.

His plump chest pressed roughly against the wall. His small hands spreading his cheeks so you can fuck his pretty pussy deeper. He can only mewl and moan sweetly for you as his eyes roll back. Every time you thrust your fat cock into his pussy, his legs spread slightly and tremble. "can't even wait til we get home? Are you really that needy?" You asked and delivered a harsh spank on his ass before gripping his waist so roughly that it might leave a mark later.

He mewled and turned his head slightly to look at you. "I-i'm sorry~ i-" he began, but stopped when you took your cock out of his pussy and gave it a gentle stroke. He was moaning and whimpering for you to fuck him once more and put it back on him, but he understood what you wanted. He got on his knees and used his hand to stroke your fat cock and balls. He whined when he felt your hand petting him so softly. His innocent eyes were fixed on you as he whispered, "I love you.. I love you so much.." The taste made him groan as he licked the tip; he missed doing this with you. After placing his hands on his lap, he used his mouth to steadily suck your cock. You groaned and praised him for being such a good boy for you.

"You love me too, right?"

"Of course, baby. I love you too."

[sparatus]

2, 14, 24 for microfic!

micro story prompts

oh i can make this shit hurted, thank u :3 second two are under a cut i went off a lil

2. This Was A Mistake - Tasora Rennis, Garrus Vakarian (Garrus/Citadel DLC Turian, post-Archangel, ExDiff canon)

She shouldn't have agreed to this. How could she be so naive? She should have stopped this ages ago, just cut her losses, had her cry, and moved on. She'd known she should, and how many people had told her to? She was a grown adult, an ambassador even, not some twitterpated child.

Yet here she was anyway, sitting in the hospital, letting the stupid idiot she'd given chance after chance after chance try to beg for just one more.

And the worst part was, she wanted to.

She pushed herself back, away from the bed, away from Garrus, away from her own stupid fucking feelings. "I'm sorry, Garrus," fell from her tongue, her subvocals pulsing the sorrowful honesty of it. "I- I just- I can't, I'm not doing this again. I- I shouldn't have come, I'm so-"

Claws grazed across her wrist, but slid clumsily off, the painkillers too much for even a desperate brain to overcome. "Tas-"

Her heart lurched into her throat at the pathetic whimper that one syllable made it out as, but she didn't dare turn around. It was- it was just too much, how was she supposed to deal with it? Some half-cocked idea to go out and "clean up" fucking Omega, chased by Spectres, Cerberus agents, a big damn shootout, a betrayal that maybe wasn't, taking a rocket to the face - and all that, and he couldn't manage one good fucking reason he hadn't called, hadn't texted, hadn't given any reason to believe he was even alive, much less still cared about her? And throughout the whole thing, he... he didn't even have the decency to sound like he wouldn't disappear again.

She swallowed, forcing her lungs to fill again. "This was a mistake," she pushed out. "I- I knew it was a mistake, and I still-"

Another high, desperate whine, and this time she was stupid enough to look back. His single unbandaged eye caught hers, glazed over with the drugs and pain but still shining with understanding, with something darker and sadder and much, much more painful than any half-destroyed face could inflict. "Tas," he slurred again, and this time it sounded more like a lost child's cry. "I'm- I'm sorry. I don't... I just..."

He swallowed, and she couldn't help but notice the wince as his throat moved. "I just want to go home."

And as the sob cracked through his subvocals with a painful-sounding gasp, she felt one more chance pick a hole in the ice around her heart.

14. Overgrown - Saren Arterius (post-canon, mentioned Kryterius, no-Reapers AU)

Nobody has tended the yard in quite some time.

It makes sense, Saren supposes, settling down on the back step and cracking open whatever fizzy energy drink Nihlus handed him. The little house in Ifura has sat empty for seventy long, lonely years. He and Desolas and some of their friends have all taken turns swinging by from time to time to keep an eye on it, make sure nothing is stolen or broken down, fix whatever needs fixing, but there's no point in cleaning up tallgrass prairie that's just going to die and crumple and be buried in snow the following winter. Even the handful of times he and his friends had holed up here to lie low until their targets forgot about them, they'd deliberately not done any maintenance beyond what they needed to make the house livable for a couple months, and left the yard to its own devices.

A dark brown drake in long, flowing, clay-spattered clothes settles beside him out of the corner of his eye, calling to a downy chick poking an insect with a stick. Saren takes a drink. The autumn breeze sighs as it crosses the long-forsaken yard and swirls through the empty space beside him, melancholy and pensive.

The grove he fled into stands taller now, has crept closer to the house with nobody to remove the growing saplings it's laid down. It's somehow all the gloomier. Electric blue eyeshine glints at him from the shadows, just for a moment, and dark red stains the grass as it drips from glistening teeth. He takes another drink, and when his hand goes down, the eyes are gone.

He hums to himself, watching the kolakoe tree sway in the breeze. It hasn't gotten that much bigger since he was small, but there's a split where a storm carved off a large branch, and there's knotholes where he doesn't remember them. Granted, his vision isn't what it used to be, he can admit that now. A lot of him isn't what it used to be, really. His prosthetic doesn't like the growing cold, either. Crawling into bed under the heavy covers and pressing up against Nihlus's bulk in an hour or two will feel all but divine.

The wind tickles his cowl again, and this time it sings a lullaby with his mother's soft coo. Maybe it's time for bed.

He doesn't stand just yet, watching the unkempt prairie grass undulate in the breeze. Desolas doesn't like coming back here, too many memories, but Saren finds comfort in it. The house missed him, he thinks, and will welcome its son returning after all these years, now with a husband of his own. At some point, he and Nihlus will have been there long enough the dead won't be lonely, the yard will no longer be overgrown, and his brother can come home again.

24. Tender - Desolas Arterius, Valis Abrudas (Desabrudas)

They call him a Titan.

That's the only thing he could be, they all seem to think, something greater than a man who strides across the stars with power and charisma enough to make lesser beings pine for his favor. Countless separatists and rebels and enemy aliens fall before him, command coming almost effortlessly, like the tactics and leadership elder generals spend decades honing are written into his soul. His men adore him. His superiors envy him. He is the Titan of War, come down among mortals to remind them of what makes them turian.

To Valis, though, there is no Titan, no almighty higher power sharing his strength with the army for his own ineffable reasons. There's only Desolas, her friend, her lover, her own personal pest she stopped trying to get rid of ages ago. And Desolas is only a man.

But, she supposes as she sinks down between his knees and lets him hold her face so very gently in his long, ragged talons as she takes him between her jaws, maybe the man is worthy of such devotion, too.

The hastatim honed him into a weapon, something violent and hard and sharp, but he's nothing but soft with her, cupping her face in his hands and pressing the most delicate of kisses to her head, and that's its own form of grace, she thinks. This great, dangerous Titan, crafted solely for war, ignores all the praise and worship from his men, his superiors, his public, and instead has eyes only for her, and holds her in an embrace that yearns for peace.

Sometimes, when he's asleep in her arms and the glorious divinity has left him to lie as only a man once more, she thinks about the future, what the universe might hold for a man their people think a god. Is it selfish of her, she wonders, to want to take him away from his adoring worshippers, to hide him away in some peaceful home where he can hang up the mantle of godhood for good? To scrape away the clinging dark of war, to make him into something for her and her alone? They've discussed kids before, late at night in the quiet spaces where they can be Desolas and Valis again instead of Colonel Arterius and Major Abrudas, and she wonders what kind of sacrilege it might be to want to bear the chicks of such a man, or if it would instead be simply the highest form of devotion she could show.

If he is a Titan, she decides, then let her be his paladin, his priest, his most devoted of followers, and let the unholy things they do when nobody else is looking be the most beautiful and sacred acts of all.

[85-rend]

please help me budget this my coworkers are dying

[marcygoo]

[lem0nn-juice]

Ciel's ability to attract fruity blond people needs to be studied

[saturnaous]

Accidently cooked up a silly little au the other day that I am very much enjoying gonna. talk about it under the cut because4 the FUCKING WORMS

OKAY so basically. literally everythign is the same except for the fact that. Ed got entirely yoinked instead of Alphonse. I dunno why that happens but. It does because I say so. Anyways. So this basically mean that Ed gets bonded to an armor instead of Al, and because I desperately wanted the secondary set of Armor to see some light I thought it would be funny to bond Ed to that instead. I haven't fleshed everything out, but as I'm working on that I wanna add a few of the different things in here just because. And I still might tweak things if I think it doesn't make sense. - Al lost his arm first, then traded his tongue and his eye to bond Ed to the armor, making him effectively mute. He's learned ASL and Ed has to translate for him a lot. Although in my hcs Al is a foodie so like. major bummer for taste buds. He likes fun textures and stuff though. I gotta figure out what problems this poses though so we'll figure that out. - Al most likely is going to go into being a state alchemist just for the fact of staying somewhat close to the storyline and stuff. and I don't know, insert random reasoning in here. Yeah - just a little design note. uhmmmmm I thought the cross thing on Ed's head/helm was cool and I had the bright idea of like "hey what if I put the emblem like. through the cross yk" and I might not do that. But at the moment it looks cool to me. so yeah. I'M STILL TOYING WITH THINGS. . . I have to figure out what happens and designs and stuff. but yeah. I think that covers. what I have for now. p sick. scuttles away

[lavalamphoarder]

Nasty DOG‼️‼️ goodness gracious this took forever

[pearl-the-artist]

(You called for me) Gabriel / Reader Oneshot

Ok please be patient with me on this. I spent over 24 hours in a car on a trip to Russia a few days ago and it made me do something I've never dared to before: write a fanfic. On my humble Samsung notes.

If this isn't a total flop I might make more? I dunno? Maybe hop on ao3?

Criticism and feedback is appreciated ok thank youuu have fun

Another restless night, another hour spent lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling above you. The room was shrouded in the comforting night air, more illuminated than usual by the soft glow of the full moon outside.

You look at the clock on your nightstand; precisely midnight. Two hours after your drunken father came home again, letting his pent-up frustrations and anger out on you in a one sided yelling match. Of course, as usual, neither was your mother of any support; only giving you that same disapproving, disdainful glare. You were never really welcome, not even in your own home- your parents biggest mistake lingering around only to weigh them down, and remind them of what they could've had. Or so they've told you, many, many times before. Tonight was no exception.

When the broadcasts first announced the new threat infesting the county, "alternates" they called them, you were, admittedly, both terrified and somewhat relieved. You were never really one to believe in the supernatural, but who knows, your parents were just superstitious enough to maybe fall for their schemes.

The first announcement had been around, what, a year ago now? Not much had really changed admittedly, although the population had begun falling drastically since then.

Your parents had of course used this opportunity to also confiscate your phone, the CRT TV in your room and old little MP3 player gifted to you by a relative, god forbid you let an alternate in to potentially threaten them, your own safety not even really a point for consideration to them.

Living with your parents was already hell, but getting by without your favourite albums and shows? Torture.

So tonight when you lied in bed unable to fall asleep, your mind wandering as usual, it may have wandered a little too far.

You recalled something you overheard your parents talk about. A friend of your dad's, a man of unwavering faith, who had been found dead in his own home a few weeks ago, seemingly in the middle of his usual prayers. Even though his family mentioned having seen an odd, ghostly figure outside their home that night, the doctors seemed to blame the cause of death on a brain hemorrhage.

It made sense, come to think of it. When you first saw the emergency PSA, it explained all kinds of methods to protect yourself from alternate attacks, one of which being avoidance of religion, faith, and philosophy.

So then, the alleged "ghost" that visted that poor man just might've been... Well.

This gave you a bad idea, but you weighed the options available to you.

Either you would die in a similar way as the old man, or... you might just get lucky and bargain with it. Alternatively, nothing happens, and you remain stuck with an unhappy married couple that hates each other as much as they hate you.

It was definitely stupid, but at this point it seemed like you had nothing to lose anyway. You weren't really much of a believer yourself, so you didn't exactly know how to pray, but you gave it your best shot. Sitting up in your bed, hands clasped together with a bowed head and closed eyes, you tried your best to focus.

If there was a god out there, may it hear your pleas. Wordless whispers called for help, begging to be heard, while you did all you could to try to concentrate on any spiritual connections. All the while you knew you may as well be praying to a literal demon.

A few minutes passed as you racked your brain for what to say before you stopped, your hands falling back into your lap.

What the hell were you doing? Yes you hated it here, and you couldn't even run away if you wanted to, but inviting an alternate to your house just like this? It was a death sentence, and not a pretty one, that much was certain.

You shook your head. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Right, this was all just some silly superstition, not that different from those "send this to 5 other people or you'll die tonight" chain e-mails. You laughed internally at how silly it was that you even thought this would work to begin with, and, admittedly, felt a brief sense of relief. You decided that you were ready to just go back to sleep, and just as you pulled your blanket up to crawl back underneath it- you almost jumped.

It was a voice, faintly audible outside your window. You didn't even process it until a few seconds after, a barely legible, strained whisper.

"I heard you praying."

You froze. A cold wave shot right to your stomach. Slowly, agonisingly so, you turned around to face your bedroom window.

A tall figure stood outside, its hands clasped together similarly to how you just had a few minutes ago. With long, flowing white robes and silver, wavy locks that reached down to his shoulders, he looked... Ethereal. Not to mention the massive, pure white wings folded neatly behind his back. His head blocked out the full moon, the light creating something almost like a halo around him, making him appear even more angelic.

"Woah."

You couldn't help the little gasp of awe. He seemed to find it amusing, his grin spreading a little too wide for comfort. Admittedly, you almost doubted if he even was an alternate at all. Maybe you'd come out a person of faith yourself, after this.

"Are you... An alternate?"

You whispered hesitantly, quiet enough to try to conceal the trembling in your voice and also not alert your parents sleeping upstairs, though you weren't sure if he actually heard you at all.

He didn't respond for a moment, tempting you to ask again, before that inhuman whisper was heard again.

"You called for me, and now I am here."

Avoiding your question, huh. Suppose he was an elusive sort. You quickly glanced around your room, eyeing the door in particular just in case; you really hoped your parents were asleep.

"May I... Come closer?"

You couldn't even recall the last time you were this polite to someone, though it was your best bet not to piss him off while he was still friendly, if you could even call it that. You had no point of reference, though he wasn't actively trying to harm you, so it was a start.

The angel, his smile unwavering, simply nodded, waving his arm in an invitation to approach.

It took a moment for you to will your body to move from the initial shock, but with slow, careful steps you moved to open the window to properly speak to him, a pleasant cool breeze inviting itself into your room.

"So... What's your name?"

Did alternates have names? Suppose they just took on the name of whoever they were trying to mimic. You leaned onto the window frame, trying to catch a good look at his face; and for the first time in god knows how long you were met with eyes that, albeit a bit creepy and lifeless, looked back into your own with an unfamiliar lack of hostility.

"You may call me Gabriel, child."

Gabriel? That name sounded familiar- Oh! The Saint Gabriel's church at the edge of town. Suppose that made sense, given his angelic appearance, if it wasn't just one morbid coincidence. Your thoughts and scrutinizing stare dragged on for a bit longer than you were aware of, though, as his voice pulled your attention back to him.

"Are you lost, my lamb? I can save you. Let me in. Let me into your mind."

The last bit seemed a bit more... Pushy than the rest, making your stomach feel just a little heavier. You gathered your thoughts anyway, trying to push that feeling aside for now. You did do this for a reason, after all, though now that he was actually here you were starting to second guess things.

Gabriel seemed to take note of your hesitation after a while of you not responding.

"Open your eyes, my lost little one. Look at me. I can grant you anything you wish for. You just need to let me in."

An odd mix of dread and comfort you'd never felt before settled in, and the feeling was almost... Refreshing, in a way. You quickly glanced back up at him, and he was still staring at you, ever so patiently, eerily.

"Uhm... I was just- well, it's probably kind of silly."

No backing out now, not when he was already here. Even if you wanted to, you don't think he'd let you go so easily. As you verbally stumbled over your own thoughts, he simply waited, his unblinking eyes staring into you, gouging out your soul. Or so it felt.

"I just thought... Is it possible for, well... Is there a chance for humans to be able to ally with alternates? Can I join you?"

Surprisingly, that got his smile to falter, if only a little bit. A flicker of emotion you couldn't quite explain showed in his eyes- surprise, perhaps, or consideration.

"What for, my child?"

That uncanny whisper of his never gave away any emotion, monotone and unfeeling, yet not unfriendly. Admittedly, his question made you pause; you hadn't exactly thought of how to explain this to him. You hadn't even expected him to show up at all.

Fidgeting nervously, unsure of whether to tell him the truth or not, you tried to think of what to say. Despite your rationality screaming at you for being an utter moron, you knew you were in too deep at this point.

"I don't think I'm any good to these people at all anymore, I just... don't know what to do anymore. With myself. I have nowhere else to go. And, maybe..."

You weren't sure if you should say it or not, you already let more vulnerability slip than you wanted to. But your spite driven words were quicker than your brain, and man did it feel good to open up for once.

"...maybe for revenge, also."

Gabriel listened to you surprisingly attentively, very interested in your words. At your last statement, he perked up with an almost malicious twist to his grin. Before he could respond, though, you suddenly heard the sound of your parents creaky old bedroom door and footsteps from upstairs. And you could tell by the sound of them that it was your mother. And she was pissed.

For a very panic filled moment you weren't sure what to do, your thoughts racing- instincts called for you to jump into bed and pretend you were asleep like you usually would... but with Gabriel here, you couldn't- and that's when you realized you really only had two real options.

Stay here, and continue living this miserable life, and also deal with the imminent outburst of your mother.

Or go with him, and then... Well, nothing and no one could possibly guarantee what would happen to you then.

"Choose wisely, my dear lamb."

Your dilemma seemed to be rather palpable to the "saviour" as he pulled you out of that mental spiral, and you were rather grateful for it. As much as it made you nauseous with uncertainty and anxiety, you finally snapped out of that paralysis and turned towards the window.

"Please, help me. This is the only favor I'll ever ask of you. I will do anything you want in return, I promise."

You began to plead in an urgent, hissed whisper, practically leaning out of the window, causing him to take a step back.

Desperation and panic shook your words as you glanced back at your bedroom door.

"Get me out of here."

He chuckled, an amused sound mixed with something you couldn't quite explain that made you feel more fuzzy than you'd care to admit.

"Come. Come to me, my child. Step outside."

For the first time tonight hesitation became a foreign concept as you practically leapt out that window. Your bare feet felt the cold gravel beneath, just in time as the door to your room swung open.

The angered yelling of your mother were drowned out by the feeling of suddenly being lifted off the ground, Gabriel taking you up into his arms like your weight was akin to a feather.

He was cold, lifelessly so. And yet the soft silken robes, the way he held you in his arms, and his deceitfully promising whispers were lulling you into a sense of security you hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"A lost little lamb, asking their shepherd for guidance..."

His eerie, yet strangely comforting laugh filled your ears once more over the noise of your mother not yet realizing you weren't in your bed. You're surprised she wasn't hearing him at all. Maybe it was another mind game of his.

"You made the right decision. I knew you would. Such a smart, yet scared little thing you are, are you not?"

You leaned your head against his chest, sighing deeply, beginning to forget what you were ever doubtful about during the start of this whole fiasco. Your weight began to sink into his arms as you relaxed. He held you a little tighter in turn.

"Of course I shall guide you, my child. Come with me; you will be mine. You will be safe."

Just as the furious woman realized to check the opened window, Gabriel vanished as swiftly as he appeared, leaving behind the sight of nothing but an empty garden, peacefully quiet, as if you were never there.

[tangledinink]

TMNT: Stabilize [ part one ]

[ next -> ]

[quigzahhutt]

alright walk with me. take alex, hand him logan, and make that american round with babies and also maybe cranky with pregnancy hormones. boom.

listen guys. @mehggie gave me this prompt literally last night and then it kind of maybe took over my hands and suddenly i had over 1.2k words written for this prompt uhhhhhh

anyways. sargebon omegaverse pregnant sex :) featuring a bit of body worship bcuz logan is pregnant and beautiful and alex is out of his mind

FAIR WARNING; THIS IS NSFW. THIS IS MPREG. dont read if thats something you dont enjoy!! this is for freaks!!

Alex thinks Logan has never looked so beautiful; his hair is thicker and his cheeks are fuller and pink, his body bulking up to accommodate for an entirely new tenant, a brand new human gearing up to experience the world.

Logan hasn't quite started showing yet but his tummy is firmer, a slight bit rounder than it used to be, covering up the six pack he so diligently crafted; although the extra weight could be easily passed off as a side effect of "taking a step back" from racing.

It feels like their own little secret. Logan is officially on hiatus from racing for "recovery reasons", but Alex knows the truth, know that it's all really a facade; is the reason for the whole thing, really.

He had been the one to knock Logan up, he's the true culprit behind the softer eyes and the tender figure Logan has begun taking on. It's all a little dizzying.

And so, Alex is nearly knocked off his feet when he finds Logan, sat alone on the edge of the bed, hair scruffy as a result of waking up later than normal. He's looking out the large window parallel to the bed, and his posture conveys more truth than anything else could.

He's relaxed more than he's ever been, his scent muted yet lively where it penetrates the serene atmosphere as he rubs absentmindedly at his tummy in soft strokes; he somehow hasn't even noticed that Alex is there.

So when Alex approaches and sits down next to him, it's no surprise when Logan startles. His breath hitches as he turns quickly in the direction of the new presence, his scent taking on a bitter edge for a brief moment; Logan suddenly goes to fix his hair, a rushed panic written across his face as he tries to salvage his appearance on autopilot.

It only serves to make Alex snicker at the urgency, and he quickly goes to muss up Logan's hair again, fluffing it back and forth with his fingers and pulling Logan in for a kiss before he can complain about it.

Alex will never be able to get over how perfectly their scents collide and mix together to form a beautiful and caramel rich aroma, sticky and sweet and yet also bitter and strong– he wonders if their pups will be reflective of that.

But now, with Logan pregnant and slowly beginning to show, his hormones have begun shifting and his scent has taken on a soothing, secondary palette– cream, milky and comforting, perfectly in tune with his traditional caramelly scent.

And Alex just can't help himself. Not when Logan is like this.

Soon enough, a hand is sneaking up the plush flesh on the inside of Logan's thigh, and he makes a panicked sound against Alex's lips, his whole body fizzling and reacting to the sensation, and Alex can feel a snarl growing behind his teeth at the fabric barrier his fingers are halted by.

He wants to be able to feel him, touch and smother all the newly soft parts of Logan's body, bury his nose into the tender scent glands on the inner crease of Logan's legs. Instead, Alex tides himself over by digging the blunt tip of his finger into it, listening carefully for the hitch of breath that follows.

Logan's hands squeeze against the muscle of Alex's bicep where they've found themselves, giving Logan more leverage to push into the kiss. He attempts to move onto his lap, but Alex in turn pushes him into the mattress, pulling away from the kiss to ease him against the pillows.

Alex wordlessly begins running a hand up and inside of Logan's loose sleep shirt, fingers skating across the soft skin there; when Alex pushes down, the flesh gives easily, and Alex can't escape the affect it has on him.

The pungent and distinct smell of slick begins permeating the space as Alex's hands continue to obsessively rove across Logan's body, overtaking the previously sickly-sweet atmosphere. Not that Alex is complaining.

Because soon enough, he's groaning, burying his face into the crook of Logan's neck and laving his tongue over the exposed skin there, moaning around the neutral taste of Logan's flesh as it floods his mouth.

"Fuck! Oh my god, Alex- please," Logan cries, flinching against each lick of Alex's tongue on the sensitive parts of his neck.

Alex pulls away with a groan, "You need it, baby? Want me to stuff you up? Make you fuller than I already have?" He growls, nuzzling against Logan's cheek, teasingly scenting him, and the whine he gets in reply is beautiful.

Ever since the pregnancy started taking shape and Logan's hormones began shifting in all the correct ways, his voice has started doing strange things, changing pitch and altering his tone to be fuller, richer, a more calming tone to the ears of nearby pups. Alex loves it.

He's already sounding so motherly despite just how early the pregnancy is, and it makes Alex feel the need to be careful; desperate not to crack and break the delicately crafted body beneath him, the body changing in so many ways so it can grow an entirely new person, a shared creation.

It's all kind of a blur, after that. Alex tends to get like this, doped up on hormones and scents and feelings so much that he hardly remembers what's happening, how his body is moving and doing things he never knew was capable.

Because now he has four fingers buried deep inside of Logan's weeping hole, slick gushing against the intrusion as his other hand roves up and down Logan's now nude torso, pinching and pushing the freshly tender flesh with careful prowess.

"Alex, get on with it," Logan huffs, and although he sounds annoyed, his body is twitching with every movement, his muscles flexing against every shift of Alex's fingers against his walls.

It's a bit dizzying, to be honest, to remember that Logan's body is still hardened and trained, just now it's concealed behind a misleading softness, wrapped in bubble wrap and made to look harmless.

But Alex knows– he's seen just how strong Logan actually is, has experienced the ebb and flow of his muscles as they pull and contract, has been on the receiving end of it a few times, even; bent over and fucked harder than he could ever imagine.

Alex's cock sinks in with relative ease, and the sensation of his already budding knot nudging against Logan's rim serves to yank him back into the present, pulling him out of the dulled haze Alex found himself in as more slick seeps out around it.

Logan is opened up so beautifully, flexing around Alex's cock and accommodating for his knot like it's nothing; like it's asking for more, even, greedily eating up every inch like a starved dog.

"C'mon, Alex, move. I need it, you know I do," Logan complains, shifting against the bed to effectively rock against Alex's dick.

It's a bit amusing just how much Logan plays up his annoyance, and yet his scent betrays that he's feeling nothing other than a searing, burning hot desire, molten enough to melt through any facade.

"Yeah? You like it? Need more, even though I've already stuffed you so much?" Alex replies promptly, spitting and yet loving around the edges, testy in the way they've always been with each other.

No matter how much Alex makes fun of Logan's scent being so easy to read, Alex is no better– he's sure he's oozing tidal waves of want and arousal just as heavily, if not more.

Then, Logan swallows harshly, "I'll take anything you give me, alpha," he says coyly, and the eye contact he holds is something fierce, something that could easily have any alpha shivering in the knees.

And, just like any alpha would, Alex has no qualms in challenging that.

The first thrust is sharp, snappy and a bit too aggressive for them, but it makes sense in the greater context of it all. He felt challenged, and judging by the way Logan's eyes roll back into his skull, Alex would say he won.

With a grounding hand planted in the center column of Logan's sternum, Alex begins a more typical pace, an easygoing rhythm that satisfies every need and then some.

He can tell that neither of them are going to last very long. With every new hormonal shift, Logan has been reaching climax a lot quicker than usual, and, as a result of residual pheromones or something, Alex has been the same way.

Something about satisfying their omegas needs, thus resulting in a quicker knot to compensate for their mate orgasming faster. It's some medical mumbo jumbo that Alex had read through after their very first visit to the doctor together, and also a few horribly embarrassing google searches.

'Why am I knotting so quickly' is definitely something Alex wishes he never had to search up at all, and he very hastily cleared it from his web history as soon as he got the desired answers.

A sharp, foggy tug on his temples brings Alex back to the current moment, and he becomes quickly aware of how close his knot is to popping already, and also just how squirrelly Logan is getting.

His muscles are pulling taut in that telltale way they always do before he comes, and he's begun scrabbling at Alex's shoulders, trying to reach for any sort of leverage as he slowly (or very quickly) falls apart.

Alex isn't much farther behind with how much his knot is throbbing for release. It all comes undone once Logan moves one of his arms down to his barely round tummy, pushing down lightly and rubbing back and forth as he comes hard around Alex's cock, and its so blindingly arousing that Alex comes immediately afterwards with a growly shout.

Knotting a mated partner is a sensation Alex will never get over. It's like all his senses have been increased tenfold, a distinct neediness and satisfaction from treating his mate properly pounding heavily at his temples.

Once he gathers himself, Alex looks down to see where he and Logan are still connected, and his breath hitches at the way slick is still gushing out around his knot despite how tight the seal is, how pink and needy Logan's hole is as it puckers around his knot.

Eventually, his cum will slowly begin leaking out, being rejected by Logan's body as it realizes he's already stuffed as full as he can go, and that the extra fluid is unnecessary. Alex leans down and kisses Logan before the thought can become any more overwhelming.

---

thank you for this prompt i had sooo much fun with it <3

[rolandkaros]

forever hilarious to me that tennis is promoted as this prestigious highbrow big-brain sport when most tennis fans these days are like. yeah this is my favorite player. yeah i don't know why they're like that. yes they are stupid. no i will not choose somebody else.

[catboyjughead]

hey guys um how's it going

+ver without person and without the shadows

[your-favourite-plague]

Quick 3am doodle

That's basically what Troupe's Chimera Ants Arc chapters were about

[ratgingi]

im saying this as a very massive davesport truther but genuinely some of you need to chill on the harrysport hate. harrysport is cute and valid imo

[luci-z-wont-shut-up]

I'd like yalls help w something, please

Regardless of its intelligence level, how many non-human creatures have Arthur and John had an emotionally positive experience with?bc I am wracking my brain and the only ones I can come up with are the lamp-eft, the buopoth, the cana, and the owl (I have yet to figure out if cana is a species or a job title but yall know who I'm talking about)

If anyone can fact-check/correct/update me on this I'd appreciate it so much 🙏