#so i'm writing it all first

[andthebubbles]

reading earlier chapters of my own fic like it's sustenance

[lazylittledragon]

i need guenhwyvar to be Cat so bad

[grey-viridian]

Leonardo

I finished this comic about a month ago but couldn't bring myself to post it. It started as a simple illustration and then I just kept adding more and more and at some point I had to stop myself and cut the story short. I'm still not entirely satisfied with the result but... well. I like it. That's enough.

[baker-chan-senpai]

My gift for @ot3 who asked for an exploration of Trucy and Phoenix's relationship for the @aa-spring-swap

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Dungeon Meshi crew 'leap' into action!

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

_____________________

Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port… will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

_____________________

-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Upd: There is a next part!

Previous

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[forgettable-au]

Sans do you ever feel that something might be missing?

Maybe he felt like that at some point, maybe for a long time. In the present, I think he's made some kind of peace with it.

Also, I really like the ask blog format, but I don't really mean this to be an ask blog.

So when writing questions, try to refer them to me instead of the characters. That way, they don't have to break the fourth wall lmao. I really wanted to answer this one tho

-

[hazelnootnut]

ACT 2 "You're... me?" "That's right, stardust!"

You know I've been drawing Loop as their Siffrin form so much that it's got me thinking. I've read and seen so many fics and artworks of Loop eventually getting back to looking like their old self, but I don't think I've seen any so far of Loop already being a mirror copy of Siffrin. So uh, yoink?

ISAT AU where the game plays out the same way (plot-wise at least) but Loop looks like Siffrin the whole time and while Siffrin is extremely perplexed that there's another him, he's still gotta accept their help because how else are they supposed to escape the loops? Good ol' Loop is here to help, helpful friendly Loop!

Siffrin is going through it still but Differently.

[tubbytarchia]

Missed drawing these two too

Bonuses

[myiliterallyhavenolifegoals]

i'm unwell!!! because in stede's eyes, ned low was right!! ned says "he [ed] only likes you because of your bumbling amateur status" and calls stede blackbeard's "pet" just like izzy did in series 1

so stede steps up as a captain, kills the man who harmed his crew, and suddenly, for once in stede's life, he isn't a joke! the gentleman pirate is taken seriously and welcomed into the pirate community!

and what happens less than 24 hours later? ed calls their night together a mistake, AND LEAVES.

yes, obviously the situation is more nuanced, and these old men are once again struggling to communicate, but i 100% understand why stede went a bit of the rails at the end of episode 7. stede's been so focused on trying to help ed, that he's completely ignored his own ongoing identity crisis and trauma, and after the incident at the academy in series 1, this meltdown was long overdue.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[front-facing-pokemon]

[themeraldee]

Mind Over Matter

[Masterlist] [AO3]

18+ Only | 4k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Supe!Reader with telepathic and mind-altering powers. Less established relationship and more fuck buddies. Lewd mental images. Office sex (kind of?). Exhibitionism (also kind of?) Overstimulation. Creampie.

Summary: As the only telepathic, mind-altering member of the Seven you take Homelander for a vivid ride in his mind during an important meeting. Homelander can't handle being reduced to less than his perfect manicured self and he decides to teach you a lesson.

Written for this request💚(thank you for the inspo!)

Boring. Boring. Mind-numbingly fucking boring. 

Ashley’s testing out her new ‘VP of Hero Management’ wings that Homelander graciously gifted her and what does she do with them? She parades around the meeting room, putting up a front of a resilient and driven businesswoman while on the inside her heartbeat is in the hundred-tens and her muscles are strung so tight he could shatter them with a flick of a finger.

Now she’s wasting their time with this? So much for filling in Madelyn’s boots with someone capable. 

He rolls his eyes.

She’s pitching ideas for the last missing member of the Seven, one they’ve been lacking since Translucent’s funeral. His eyes quickly flit to you sitting to his right side, taking up Deep’s mantle ever since his timely departure. At least you’ve proven yourself to be a worthy member with some quality skillset.

But these fucking options? What is this? When did good old classic superheroes turn into strange curiosities fit for a circus freak show. First an animal whisperer and now another invisible freak? 

Looking around the rest of the room, he grits his teeth. The rest of the team doesn’t even fucking care. Why does it always have to be him, maintaining the standard everyone should adhere to?

“Nope. Not happening.” He dismisses the presented slide with disdain.

“S-sir, we could really do with the boost in our 18-32 demographic. Invisi-lass has already hit 20 million followers on Instagram. Our forecast shows an uptick of 5%.” Each stutter of her voice is even more grating on his ears than the obnoxious click of her stilettos. 

“Right, a bunch of fucking pre-teen girls wishing they could disappear like her. Fantastic. They’re not gonna come out in support of us, Ashley.” He’s had enough of everyone else thinking they know what’s best for the team, what’s best for him. “Instead it will hurt the biggest demographic—my demographic—because everyone can clearly see that we only care about optics. A female majority in the Seven? Give me a fucking br—”

Moan. That was a fucking moan. Homelander whips his head around to look at the rest of the room to see anyone else reacting. Nobody is paying fucking attention. His mind is playing tricks on him.

He looks at you again. Even you’re making him look bad, sitting at your spot at the Seven’s table all uninterested just like the rest of them.

“Sir?” Ashley’s voice rings the clearest.

“I said no. We don’t need Translucent 2.0. Find something better—” He chokes on the last letter, eyes widening a fraction when he hears the distinctive sound of fingers running up and down a wet pussy.

It’s the loudest thing in his head. Jesus Christ, if that doesn’t make his cock throb.

“Find someone better.” He repeats with a scathing enough look that Ashley—nor anyone else—dares question his restlessness.

The squelch of a soaked cunt is still loud in his ears, the brazen repetition of the lewd noise tinges the tips of his ears pink. He swallows, shaking his head clear of the sound instead trying to focus on the rest of the presentation.

The intermittent nature of the sound is enough to disturb his attention. He throws you a cautionary glare. Not that it does much besides egg you on. The teasing tilt to your lips makes him want to get up and teach you a lesson. 

The sound of soft groans in his head makes Homelander squeeze the armrest, just about stopping himself from ripping it clean off.

Ashley clicks a button on her remote and the screen changes. Moan. Homelander’s barely paying attention to the new recruit candidate. They are as unremarkable as the others.

“Homelander.” You sneaky devil. You’ll pay for that one for sure. Timing that sinful pleasure-infused sound of his name at the same time as Ashley asks for his opinion.

He barely grits out an irritated no. His tongue flits out to wet his lips as his mind fills with the images of a sopping wet set of lips eagerly waiting for his rapt attention.

It takes him everything to stop the wanton moan from escaping his lips when he turns to look at you but instead the image of you naked from the waist down, sitting on top of the table right in front of him steals his mind away from reality.

He has to shake his head clear before he gets lost in the vivid image you’ve planted in his head. Oh now you’ll definitely get what’s coming to you.

It’s impossible to escape the literally mind-fucking you’ve trapped him in now. Thank fuck for the hard cup in his suit. Without it he’d be flashing a hefty erection to the rest of the team. 

If he wasn’t horny out of his mind he’d be impressed with how far you’ve come with your skillset since you’ve become a part of the team. What started as implanted ideas and fleeting moments you’ve turned into vivid and believable scenes, an outright reshaping of his view of reality. The way you could easily manipulate what someone saw—or believed they saw—was pretty fucking hot if he had to say so himself.

His voice quivers when he denies yet another proposal but nobody dares pull him up on it.

The image of your legs spread right in front of him is inescapable. He sees bare thighs sticking to the table top. Along with a mouth-watering pool of slick right where you sit as your fingers go to town, pushing into your cunt with a need he can’t believe he can’t exploit. 

He’s stopped staring at the screens Ashley presented on as she moved onto stats and ratings. While it just comes across as uninterested to anyone else, he wants to look at that exact spot you’ve planted yourself onto in his mind. It makes it more vivid. His mouth is fucking dry. How can you present the oasis and not let him have a sip. 

He’s shifting in his seat, each movement aiding in feeling a sliver of friction against his cock. He feels how obscenely he’s leaking. Embarrassing, what you do to him. What he lets you do to him. 

The images and visions you send into his mind are nearing crescendo. Each of Ashley’s words is punctuated by a lewd sound. Moan. Filthy noise of your plunging fingers. Groan. His fucking name.

No. 

No. 

He can’t have you enjoy yourself with your shitty little smirk while he’s fighting for his fucking life.

“Enough.” It comes out weak, but to the unknowing it just sounds exasperated. When nobody moves or says anything he repeats himself. 

“That’s enough Ashley.” He’s too frustrated to put on the cheerful aura. Too worked up to perform. “Just-just come back when you’ve got something useful. Don’t waste my time with more of these good-for-nothings.”

Ashley’s polite, business curated smile drops and she tightens her lips into a fine line, turning the screens off with an affirmative, “yes, sir.”

He stands up from his seat after he pushes his chair back. He shakes the image from his head.

“Everyone. Out!” He repeats, motioning with both hands towards the exit with a sweeping gesture.

The rest of the team clearly doesn’t care. They barely paid any attention to begin with. All dealing with their insignificant issues in their insignificant little lives. Even after he brought them all to glory they’re still not grateful.

He feels his own heartbeat rise with frustration, the sick feeling taking over.

His vision turns red when the doors take their sweet time opening fully. He’s ready to laser them off the hinges. Upon opening Ashley gets out first, thank fuck, rushing to keep out of the way as fast as possible.

“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Homelander stands behind you, both gloved hands land on your shoulders hard, squeezing with a moderate strength. For all your mind-fucking powers you’re still fairly fragile.

The room empties out, doors shutting behind them.

“Well,” he lets you turn around just in time to see that bratty smirk, “you did say ‘everyone out’. I’m just following orders, sir.” Youuu make him want to strangle and kiss you at the same time. 

“Really? This is what you’re going with? Brave. Your sassy attitude isn’t gonna soften the blow sweetheart.” He cups your face pulling you closer to his face. Your hands automatically rest on his biceps, whether for support or as a feeble attempt to push him away he doesn’t really care.

“If you think it’s fun to fuck around—well—then I’m sure you won’t mind if I fuck you riiiight here.” He pushes you back against the table with each step forward, effortlessly hoisting you up with a little throw, making you land on the hard surface. 

“See, honey,” he pinches your chin with his thumb and forefinger and he tilts your head a little to the left. “That camera in the upper corner? Yep that one.” He points at it with his finger just to be sure.

“Now that camera is gonna record eeevery little moan and whimper along with your embarrassing little faces.” He chuckles with his lips closed, already terribly amused at your wide-eyed expression. You make it too easy.

“I was going to keep it to myself, wipe the recording, that sorta thing.” He pulls off his gloves, noticing your eyes follow each movement of his hands as if to brace yourself for what’s to happen.

As you should.

“But then I thought that I might be better off just accidentally sending it to everyone at Vought. So everyone can see what a nasty little slut you are.” His one hand cups your crotch through your uniform. He barely needs his super hearing to catch the squish of wet flesh when his finger presses in the middle.

“Be real, did you really think I would let this slide?”

“I was just doing you a favour!” You squirm under his hand, trying to worm your way further away from him. “You were clearly bored out of your mind.”

Homelander pulls you close, sucking on his teeth with a disapproving shake of his head.

His bare fingers pinch the smooth stretchy fabric of your costume right at your crotch. With his second hand joining the cause he rips the material apart like tissue paper, grabbing the new frayed edges and ripping a hole big enough for the tear to span the top of your pubic bone to the middle of your ass crack.

“Homelander! What the fuck!?” Oh finally, you’re realising the severity of your actions. He grins, ripping the next layer, your colour matching panties, down the middle—making them effectively crotchless.

God it’s so satisfying to see you try to force your legs closed. As well as wedging your hand down the middle. It’s all pointless anyway.

“Come on, don’t cover up. You were so happy to show off all your best assets earlier, gorgeous. Where’s that energy now?” He teases you. He’s being an asshole and he knows it. It’s all so worth it, especially when your eyes flicker to the camera. 

“Eyes down here darling.” He pushes your head back down, not giving you a second to spare before he’s capturing your lips with his. And for all your embarrassment in the moment you still give as good as you get. Really, he thinks this always ends up being some of your hottest sex.

The kiss is messy, pulling and tugging at each other's lips, tongues wet and hot against each other in between the greedy nips and bites at the other ones lips. There’s no time and space for gentle and loving in this moment. He has to stop himself from not shattering your jaw with his hand as he kisses you like a starving man. Each wet kiss and moan makes his cock throb, balls heavy and aching, bordering on painful.

Homelander can’t really wait much longer. He's not gonna get blue-balled by your stupid powers. His cock has been begging for some sweet relief quite some time now. 

Reluctantly he pulls away, hands going to his pants. He leaves his belt on, pulling the zipper down from underneath it, pushing all layers down in one fell swoop.

And wow, already he’s really raring to go. His cock bounces up when it’s released from its fabric prison, grazing your hot flesh on the way up. His mind gets shot with a fuzzy feeling he’s not used to. 

He rests both arms on the table, leaning in close to you with a groan. “Stop that.” He rests his forehead against yours with a hiss. “None of your tricks.” 

“It’s not a trick. It’s not made up. It’s-it’s what I feel. I’m sharing it with you.” 

Eyes widening as he pulls back a bit, staring you up and down with a confused look. So what, you can now broadcast your pleasure? Straight to his pleasure receptors? What in the—

“You can do that?” It’s unbelievable really. 

Nevertheless, Homelander hooks his arms under your thighs pulling you closer to the edge and forcing you down on your back, no matter how much you try to stay up propped by your arms.

“It’s new to me too…” You say a little out of breath as your back hits the table top.

Immediately he grips the base of his cock, flicking the head up and down your slit. The pay off is immediate. His mind buzzes with pleasure he’s never felt before. Is that what it feels like when he teases your clit? 

He can’t wait to eat you out with this new party trick.

Greedy for more of that sparkling pleasure he rubs his cock against your clit with more urgency than you’ve ever seen him do before. Look, he’s always been a good lover to you, making sure you finish each time. But this? This feeling? This more than reassures that you’ll get your fill and more.

The possibilities this opens up are endless. Already curious to find out what else the rest of your body feels like he reaches out to unzip the top part of your uniform, pulling down the fabric of your bra so he can suck on your nipple as he bends over your body.

God, look at him. He feels like a teenage boy touching a woman’s body for the first time. 

His eyes widen immediately as his tongue circles your nipple—both, for good measure. You’re so sensitive. His nipples are nowhere near this level of tingling when you give them some love.

That’s it. He can’t wait. He needs to know what it feel like to have his cock stretch you out. Fill you over and over again.

He nearly comes at the thought of getting to feel that sensation first-hand. His hand trembles when he pulls back to stand somewhat straight as he positions his cock to kiss your entrance. The wet squelch of the two meeting makes you flush. He can feel how hot you’re getting.

“Fuuuck me—you’re even wetter than you were in your little fantasy. Lucky me.” His eyes flutter shut as he pushes into the intense wet heat inch by glorious inch.

And this already feels orgasmic. The hot squeeze of your soft walls is unlike anything in the world. Or… so he thought until a second ago. Somehow it feels even better from your side. This new trick of yours will definitely become his favourite.

It’s really no surprise you jump on his dick anytime the situation allows these days because holy shit is this how it really feels? 

You broadcast all that you’re feeling into his brain, tapping straight into the pleasure centre and lighting it up like a Christmas tree on Times Square. The thick glide and fill is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. It actually makes him a little dizzy. Having the dual sensation of your wet pussy clinging to him all while enjoying your side of getting filled is guaranteed to make him bust in no time. 

“F-ffuck you're perfect… Jesus a-hah…that's so fucking tight and wet.” He’s really losing his mind now. For a second it feels like he’s the one getting embarrassed on camera with how thoroughly this is reducing him to a bunch of moans and mumbles. But at least he’ll have a fun memory to look back on.  

So he makes the best of it.

This is where all his bravado and cocky words just stop. There’s nothing else on his mind now except the feeling of two hot bodies getting off together.

His hips thrust into you with jagged snaps, unwilling to stay out of your warmth any longer than necessary. His one arm is wrapped around your thigh, pulling you even closer to him as he continuously pumps his hips into you.

The room is a mix of grunts and moans, squeaky sounds of the table legs being pushed forward with each thrust. The huge V-shaped table stands no chance against the hurried and desperate drive of Homelander’s hips.

He takes his free hand to your clit. Immediately hit by what feels like a bolt of lightning inside his brain.

He whines needily, forcing his hand to focus on rubbing your clit in a solid rhythm.

It doesn’t help that you sing for him prettily, little sweet moans as he’s setting your sensitive clit on fire.

He can't resist anymore. The feeling of your clit getting stimulated with his fingers, all while getting your insides massaged with each pass of his cock is enough to make his mind melt. If you weren't his favourite before you definitely are now.

What catches him off guard is your climbing climax. That feeling is familiar yet foreign and interesting enough to add to his own pleasure. And with that there's nothing he can do to hold back. His balls ache too much.

With a whimpered cry he feels the pull of his orgasm taking over. His hips stutter into a pathetic tempo as his cock pulses with his orgasm, unloading one spurt of come into you after another.

“God–fuck s’rry…sorry. I couldn’t—ah, couldn't hold back.” He’s gasping for air, the most he’s ever been winded after sex.

But there's no way he's going to let you go until he feels your orgasm through your powers. He needs it.

“Don't stop, please.” You whimper, the pleading sending a pulse of heat down his gut.

He tries to match the same pace from earlier as much as he's capable. He's still hard inside you. The shivers up his spine from your climbing orgasm are keeping him on the razor's edge of too much stimulation. 

The steady rubbing of your clit makes him grit his teeth, the pleasure of it makes him want to drool and roll his eyes back.

“N’t g’nna” He mumbles through his teeth, watching with wide eyes as you suck on your own fingers, using the wetness to rub and pinch your nipples of your bouncing tits.

He watches as your moans get higher, pushed out in between gasps for air as you arch against the tabletop, your body pulsating and straining against his.

And then he feels it. For a little while he thought you wouldn't be able to have enough control of your powers to transmit the feeling to him, exhausted after a vigorous fucking to give him what he's here for. 

But you do. A burst of hot pleasure melts in between each crevice of his mind, suffocating him with how obscenely strong it feels. The way it reaches into each fingertip and limb makes him nearly fall over on top of you and go limp.

He sucks in the saliva when he feels it gathering on his tongue, his eyes blown black and his body feeling like it's dealing with the aftershocks of electrocution. It's only then he realises he can feel his cock throb and pulse, the tell-tale sign of having just come. Again.

He sucks in a big gulp of air and he pulls out. His cock has reached its oversensitivity limit and now every pulse of your pussy sends a shiver of pain-laced pleasure up his spine.

“What the fuck was that?” He asks, exhausted and falling back into his chair, for once with a heaving chest and gasps for air. It takes a lot to get him winded. Somehow you managed that. Your only response is a weak laugh.

He'd be embarrassed with how ruined you made him feel if his entire nervous system wasn't buzzing with the signals that amount to three orgasms in the span of five minutes.

He pushes his softening cock back into his underwear. Not wanting it to smear the leftover dribbles of come into the fabric of his suit.

Looking at you like this makes him especially glad to have made you the centrepiece in the camera angle. You've propped yourself up on your elbows, catching your own breath. But Homelander can't quite look away from the mess he's made of you.

Your pussy is swollen with the effort, blood rushing underneath the surface. Nice and stretched for his size now, perfect for round two—well, three really—as the small gaping entrance leaks his come in dribbles, collecting on the table. Just like your slick was in the fantasy visual you fed him earlier.

You should be happy he's a generous enough man to make your dreams come true.

Clearing his throat he goes “you're gonna have to clean that up.” His signature sharp grin makes itself known, beyond pleased with the effect he's got on you. Even though you’re the one who started this, abused him with your telepathic powers in ways nobody else would ever dare. You can bet on him being the one to finish it. 

“Huh? With what!” You bite back when you gain some functions back. Sitting up on the table properly. You rush to zip your uniform back up again, not wanting to have anyone else see you as exposed as you are. 

“Your tongue for all I care. Can't have you leaving a mess like that.” He stands up, stretching himself tall, puffing his chest out as if his own cock didn't leave a mess in his underpants.

“How the fuck am I meant to walk anywhere like this? Could you not have just pulled my pants down? Fucking asshole.” You mutter as you hop off the table, ripping the rest of your tattered underwear off so you can wipe as much of the milky white stain and shove the sopping wet fabric into your pocket.

Oh, kitty has claws. Cute.

You stand up straight in front of him, or as straight as you can seeing as you're clutching your pussy so you can’t leak any of his essence down your legs. Or the ground.

Good girl, keeping it all in there like you should. 

“Oh please, you loved it.” The sheepish little ‘maybe’ that escapes your lips is all he needs to kiss you silly. His signature wet and loud kiss that makes your mind hazy each and every time.

He pulls back after one last, surprisingly soft, kiss.

Homelander knows the toll your mind powers have on you, you're tired, overworked and overly sensitive. It’s your only weakness as far as he’s concerned—apart from him of course. And contrary to your belief he does have a particularly soft spot for you. 

He unclasps his cape, wrapping it up around your middle as a cover-up. He picks you up into his arms, bridal style, carrying you effortlessly as he makes his way around the 99th floor, towards his penthouse.

“Hope you've got a clear schedule because I want you to show me what else you've learned to do without telling me.” 

And while originally he threatened you with leaking the footage, he doesn't particularly want you to fill the daydreaming heads of every Joe in the company. He's sure you would. Though the footage will certainly come in handy for a good old Friday movie night in.

For now though? Your job will be to warm the other side of his bed while you get your rest. After that? You're really gonna have to reconsider your stance on a public relationship because there's no way he's not gonna make you his.

Taglist (you can add(or remove) yourself to be tagged when I publish a new fic):

@infinetlyforgotten | @rafecamsgirlll | @nervoussystemss | @hom3landr

@mrsdesade | @nommingonfood | @littlegaaby | @jokesonyoupup

@natliecole

[lululawrence]

You Should Be Here With Me

A 2024 Advent Fic by lululawrence

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | 34k | 26 Chapters

The festive period is a traditionally hectic one in the world of Premier League football, and this year is no different. A lot is riding on how Manchester United is able to come through the fixtures in the coming weeks.

Louis and his teammates know all too well the pressure that is on their shoulders. They need to prove, not just to fans of the club but the entire league, that they still have what it takes to be a team worthy of fighting for the top of the table.

Throw in the fact that Louis is all too aware that he's not getting any younger in a profession that demands your peak physical fitness year round and the incredibly fit Harry Styles, who is part of the club's social media team, and this year's festive period might just be the most important one yet.

🎄1 🎄 2 🎄 3 🎄 4 🎄 5 🎄 6 🎄 7 🎄 8 🎄 9 🎄 10 🎄 11 🎄 12 🎄 13 🎄 14 🎄 15 🎄 16 🎄 17 🎄 18 🎄 19 🎄 20 🎄 21 🎄 22 🎄 23 🎄 24 🎄 25 🎄 26 🎄

NOW COMPLETE!

[lucky-fy]

For the Laicion nation (aka, me and three other people)

I had this illustration commissioned (a big thank you to @lunehowls) for my werewolf AU Laicion fic (still a WIP).

The general pitch is as follows :

AU in which Laios never got to meet his sister again, putting his life on a whole other path, a more desperate one. A military deserter with barely a coin to his name, Laios hitches a ride on a boat to one of the elven continents, where he learns about magical tattoos that binds one’s soul to a wolf’s, effectively making them artificial werewolves. Illegal magic be damned, this feels like the answer to… everything.

In the process, he learns about the existence of an illegal fighting ring in one of the elven cities, where beastmen gladiators gather. Freshly tattooed and without anywhere else to go to, Laios decides to head there, where he meets Lycion, an elf and artificial werewolf gladiator. If they first bond over a simple shared meal, by spending time together (sharing the same room in the barracks, maybe the same bed? gasp) they find that they have a lot in common, notably a shared distaste for the body they were born in, a dysphoria partially remedied by becoming a werewolf.

They bond :)

NB: I commissioned another piece, go take a look :D

[lazylittledragon]

i just went on a 4 hour writing frenzy and i don't know where i am anymore but everyone was very nice last time so have some more Stuff