#starting almost halfway through my reading

[leighsartworks216]

Cinderella

Zayne x gn!Reader

Believe it or not, I started this fic before his cat card came out. And then I saw the card and I simply had to finish this

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, married life, established relationship, food/cooking, kissing, implied sexual content

Word Count: 1, 431

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your body is weighed down by morning as you heave yourself to your feet, shivering all the while as the cold air of the room caresses your bare skin. You hurry to throw on the first thing you can find: Zayne’s shirt abandoned on the floor. As you start to button it up, you turn to look at the man himself, still fast asleep on his side of the bed.

His hair is tousled and unkempt, from your fingers and his pillow. His lips slightly parted with slow, even breaths. The blankets are up to his chest. Reddened marks trail from his exposed neck and down his body. You smile just thinking about his usual efforts to try hiding them when he has to go into work. It’s unlikely he’ll wear his turtleneck today, given he doesn’t have to go anywhere. And you’re going to love pulling down his collar to kiss right over them again.

Quietly, you pad your way to your dresser for some fresh underwear, collecting stray clothes as you go to dump them into the hamper. Then, you creep over to his side and carefully pull the blankets back up to his neck. The clock on his bedside table reads 9am. If you’re very lucky, he’ll sleep in until 10. He needs this rest.

You lean down and press a featherlight kiss to his cheek. He shifts slightly, his head turning as if he’s trying to chase your touch. Warmth floods your chest as you sneak out of the bedroom and so, so slowly close the door behind you.

The floor is cold under your feet as you make your way through the house. You make a detour to the entryway to steal Zayne’s own house slippers, left forgotten after you got home from dinner last night. It’s truly a miracle he found the patience to leave his shoes at the door. The slippers don’t fit you, but they protect your feet from the cold as you finally head into the kitchen to enact your devious plan to take care of your husband.

You work as quietly as you can to take down a pan and pull out a spatula. You grab a bowl and lay out all the ingredients you need to make pancakes. You also pull out some blueberries to drop into the batter once it’s all mixed together. With a drizzle of oil in the heated pan, you use a spoon to glob the batter into little piles. They spread out into little discs, almost but not quite touching each other.

You hum to yourself as you grab a couple of plates from the cabinet. You also grab his mug and get the coffee pot started on brewing some fresh, hot coffee. As it brews, you flip the pancakes over, exposing their golden brown deliciousness. They’re thick and fluffy, and you pull out some maple syrup from the fridge to set on the table. Once the pot is brewed, you fill the mug with coffee and top it off with some sugar, just how he likes it.

You lay the first few pancakes onto a plate, setting them in a cute little toppled-domino array, before globbing some more batter into the pan. You cover the bowl and set it in the fridge to finish at a later time. You consider the possibility of giving it to Xavier, but he’d need to use a stove to make them… Best not.

Once the next batch is done, you lay them onto your own plate and crack two eggs into the pan. Their liquid insides meet the heated metal with a pleasant sizzle. You turn down the heat a little, and watch as the eggs begin to cook.

“So that’s where my slippers went.”

You whirl around to the kitchen entrance. “Zayne! You can’t just sneak up on me like that!” you chastise.

He grins as he closes the distance between you. His hair is still a mess, but at least he took the time to pull on his robe. You lean up, and he meets you halfway for a soft kiss. It’s quick, just a little peck - but it’s sweet and tender and makes your heart leap with joy, even after you’ve been together for so long.

“You forgot your slippers in the bedroom.” He holds them up with one hand, where they dangle from two of his fingers.

You glance at the eggs quickly. “Yeah, well, I didn’t wanna risk waking up Sleeping Beauty,” you tease. You reach up to grab at his ear, but he easily ducks away. “You’re not even supposed to be up yet.” You then grab for your slippers, but he also pulls those out of your reach.

“I needed to find my Cinderella,” he teases back. “May I?” He gestures down to your feet, adorned in his slippers. You give him a suspicious look - it’s not often he’s so playful - but you nod, nonetheless. Your cheeks instantly grow warm as you watch him slowly kneel down in front of you, hazel green eyes locked to yours. He looks up at you like you are royalty meant to be worshipped.

You shift away from the stove enough to lean back against the marble countertop. It’s cold chill does nothing to tamp down the heated blood coursing through your veins. Zayne’s eyes slip shut as he pushes the dangling hem of his stolen shirt up to expose the skin of your thigh. His mouth immediately seeks it out, pressing featherlight kisses just below the line of your underwear and down your leg.

His fingers follow a similar pattern. They dance along your skin gracefully, almost tickling you as they travel to the back of your thigh, slowly gliding down all the way to your calf. His mouth stops at your knee. His hot breath fans over your bare skin, reverent and appreciative, exhaled from his nose, or from his mouth just as he goes in to leave another kiss.

His hand trails lower to your ankle. His thumb massages around the jutting bone, coaxing you to shift your weight and lift your foot up. With his other hand, he removes his slipper and sets it aside. His eyes open slightly to ensure he picks up the correct replacement; to watch as he slides the slipper tenderly onto your foot. “A perfect match,” he whispers.

You reach down to comb your fingers through his hair, detangling and smoothing it out so it sits normally on his head again. You can feel his grin. You’re tempted to grab his ear again just to mess with him.

He guides your foot back to solid ground. His lips find your other thigh, his hand finds your other ankle, and he helps you back onto one foot as he trades slippers once more. He meets your eyes again as he stands, and you feel like you can breathe again.

Suddenly reminded of what you were doing before this, you hurriedly flip the eggs over. “You almost made me burn breakfast,” you chide, but your face is so flushed, it doesn’t come across as seriously as you wish it did.

He unceremoniously slides his slippers onto his feet with a self-satisfied grin and a soft chuckle. His arms wrap around your waist, his chest to your back as he hugs you from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder with his head tilted to lean against yours. Your free hand finds one of his over your stomach. Fingers move in a familiar dance to tangle together. You trace the cool band on his ring finger. He watches the morning light catch on yours.

“Thank you, my love,” he hums, content.

You kiss his head. “Of course. I wanted to do something nice for your day off.” You have to let him go in order to transfer the eggs (slightly overcooked) to your plates. He automatically turns the stove off, watching to make sure you don’t accidentally burn yourself. “What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”

He steps away, arms slipping from your body, to move about the kitchen. While you grab the plates and carry them over to the table, he grabs his coffee and takes a careful sip of the hot liquid. It’s just as he likes it. He carries it over with a glass of fruit juice that he sets in front of your plate.

“Anything,” he responds at last. “As long as it’s with you.”

You chuckle. “Alright, then we’ll stay in bed all day.”

He smiles. “That sounds perfect.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

[deathdefyinglifeleaps]

me reading Iron Widow like:

(spoilers ahead)

Wu Zetian is such a bitch! I love her!!

And Li Shimin is such a badass! He just strangled someone with his own chains and everyone is into it

Oh! Drunken boxing now? Yesssss

Yizhi is back?!??

Polyship!!!

He’s a badass and a nerd!

Leash confrontation. Leash confrontation!!Honestly, I'm not sure a YA novel is supposed to be this hot……….

Had to go back and listen to the leash confrontation again 😬

"you can't shoot me. i'm rich." 🤣

“A triangle is the strongest shape” 🤣 Followed immediately by ‘why aren’t you fucking?!’

“His skin is smooth like porcelain” okay scary boy…

love the immediate hard left plot-wise from sorting out the love triangle and trust issues directly into let's torture a bitch

Okay, but which is the killer boy and which the sweet boy?

Also yay! The triangle is closed!

Had a moment of offense when Sima Yi called Yizhi “rich boy” but like… he earned that for sure

Oh excellent, humans are a plague

No. No no no. Not allowed

NOT ALLOWED

Maybe he’ll pass out before he burns through all his primordial qi?

Also, at least we know gyz is very good at being a pool of qi, so he’ll be fine in a yin seat. Which I can only assume will happen next.

Well that’s a horrible count down

Yes! Yes! Get the emperor!

Queen!!! Empress!!!

okay. i'll accept this on a technicality… for now. but the other thing better happen, too. because if it doesn't, what even is plot seeding

I love that the emperor is just chillin, eyes closed, napping through this rampage

The iron triangle of patricide!

Why does gyz get all the best lines?

Humans are a plague!!

Bring back, you say?!

Well that was… incredible

Next one out when?

I will accept gyz in a yin seat in that book. Or the dismantling of the yin yang seat disparity i guess. I still think it should be a thing though

[djuvlipen]

Feminist Books I've Read So Far This Year

Caroline Criado-Perez, Invisible Women

Susan Brownmiller, Against Our Will

Naomi Wolf, The Beauty Myth

Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider

bell hooks, Ain't I A Woman?

Andrea Dworkin, Pornography: Men Possessing Women

Michele Wallace, The Black Macho and The Myth of The Superwoman

Leila Ahmed, Women and Gender in Islam

Kumari Jayawardena, Feminism and Nationalism in the Third World

Stephanie Golden, The Women Outside

Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex (part 1)

Books I still have to read (sigh.)

Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex (part 2)

Kajsa Ekis Ekman, Being and Being Bought

Assata Shakur, Assata

Elaine Brown, A Taste of Power

Gail Dines, Pornland

Iris Chang, The Rape of Nankin

Susan Brownmiller, Femininity

Andrea Dworkin, Right-Wing Women, Woman Hating, Intercourse

Shulamith Firestone, The Dialectics of Sex

Kate Millett, Sexual Politics

Silvia Federici, Caliban and The Witch

[solalunar-eclipse]

Sonic Boom - S3E20

Chapter title: Unknown From M.E. (Part Two)

Summary: Now that the team has found this strange "Master Crystal", there are a lot of questions that need answering. Unfortunately, they'll only have so much time to figure it out, because they've been followed to the island by somebody else…

AO3 Link

First | Previous | Next

[This time, the episode starts with the intro sequence! Once again, the individual character introductions and team shot all stay the same.]

[After that, a series of red, glitchy squares appear, growing rapidly in number until they fill the screen alongside a static-filled droning noise.]

[Everything cuts out.]

[After a few moments of silence, the title of this week’s episode appears on the screen. Then, the episode begins.]

“Chaos,” Shadow swore. “It’s the Master Crystal!”

Everybody else immediately whirled around to stare at him. “The what?!”

Shadow’s eyes were wider than any of them had ever seen before. “The Master Crystal. An incredible force, existing to balance and control the eight Chaos Crystals. With it, someone could potentially neutralize their power, at least temporarily. It was presumed to have been lost for centuries, even back…in the past.”

“But that doesn’t explain why it’s sitting here, inside the island where Knuckles apparently grew up.” Amy put her hands on her hips, clearly demanding an explanation. 

“I don’t have an answer to that.” Shadow folded his arms. “Like I just said, even the Ancients knew nothing about where this crystal might have been.”

Tails stared up at the android, eyes bright in an otherwise serious face. “Is this entire place—like the whole chamber—is all of that the Master Crystal?”

“I believe so, yes.” Shadow looked around the cavern once again, still mildly stunned himself at the sight of one of the few mysteries that had managed to stump even the most honed of Ancient minds. “But I am by no means an expert. Knuckles, do you know anything about this?”

The echidna shook his head, his shoulders sagging. “I never even knew my parents. I didn’t have anyone to explain this to me—I mean, I didn’t know this was here until just now!”

Sticks tapped Knuckles on the arm with their boomerang, drawing his attention. “Well, every ancient civilization has some kinda clues about what they were like, right? We just gotta look around and find ‘em!”

Sonic grinned, beginning to jog in place. “Sounds like a plan to me! Let’s see what this cave is hiding!”

The rest of the team gave each other a single nod in agreement, before spreading out to hunt for any potential clues. Once they actually started looking, it became clear that the cavern was a little more complex than they’d originally thought. There were various niches in the walls, some appearing more naturally formed than others. In addition to that, Tails soon discovered that the most massive stalactite of all pointed directly down to the center of the floor, which seemed…oddly intentional for a crystal. (Then again, this was no ordinary crystal.)

Before long, the others were all called away from their searches by Knuckles, who had begun exploring many of the niches in the walls. Once they’d all made it to the opening, located about a third of the way up the wall, they found a medium-sized room, large enough to fit about double their team comfortably. Nine spaces were worn away into the floor. 

“These look like how the sand does when I’ve been sitting in it for a while.” Sonic mused aloud. “You guys think these are like, some sorta seats or something?”

“This could be a council’s meeting room, perhaps.” Amy studied them a little more closely, before her attention was drawn to the faceted walls of the space. “I think there might be some scratches on the walls, but it’s hard to make out with the way they’re glowing. Does anyone else see those?”

Tails squinted at the wall, running his hand along it lightly. “I can kind of see them, and I can definitely feel them. I could probably get my Miles Electric to give the wall a scan and then project the marks so we can see them more clearly!”

He motioned for everyone else to stand back, before hovering in the center of the room and slowly rotating his device as it scanned every inch of the walls. Once he had finished, his scanner beeped—and then proceeded to map out the markings in blue holographic light all around them.

They weren’t just scratches at all. They were pictures. Precise, geometrical lines marked out a series of images that were near-invisible to the eyes and almost impossible to understand via touch alone. 

First came a picture of various different species living together in apparent harmony, in an area that resembled a massive yet technologically advanced garden. Shadow spoke up about this one, his voice quieter than normal, as though he would disturb the creator of these images were he to speak too loudly. “That looks like an Ancient garden that I learned about once. It was the first time that the early Ancient civilization had managed to create technology that worked with nature instead of against it…but as with many first attempts, it turned out to be a failure, and its ruins were left as a monument to the mistakes made. I never got to see it, of course, but there were photographs.”

The next image showed the garden growing larger…and larger…and larger, eventually close to covering an entire continent. And the leader of it all—the one with a shovel in one hand and a set of wires in the other—was an echidna.

In the third image, certain plants, the most beautiful and ornate, were being kept in the garden, while simpler wildflowers were being thrown out to the point where they risked vanishing altogether. Similar things were happening to the animals, now that some species were no longer necessary to maintain equilibrium in the ecosystem.

Then, two echidnas were depicted arguing. One was defending the unwanted plants and animals, while the other one stood in support of the garden. But suddenly, both of the echidnas fell, and were instead replaced by—

—something else.

It was growing out of the perfectly organized, perfectly ordered garden itself, but it wasn’t a plant or an animal. It was depicted as a simple square, which expanded and turned everything around it into more squares. A group of echidnas appeared, banding together to destroy their once-perfect garden and release the previously unwanted species back into the ecosystem. The echidnas built a massive device that sucked the square into the Master Crystal, but not before the square absorbed many of their own. 

After that, the echidnas left the Ancient society and came to the island that the six heroes stood upon now, where their numbers slowly diminished as time went on. They watched over the Master Crystal despite this, which was depicted as containing the square. 

And that was where the images ended.

“But…what does that all mean?” Tails asked, staring at the images his device showed.

Shadow rubbed at his face, sighing quietly. “In summation, the Ancients pushed too far. They tried to create a perfect world that suited their needs…but in doing so, they began to erase too much of the natural balance in favor of an artificial one. Chaos energy thrives on that natural balance, and it began to dissipate as the Ancients continued their terraforming. Some argued that the project was too dangerous and needed to stop, while others thought that the lack of Chaos energy was a small price to pay for a perfect world. But as Chaos faded…

“…something else clearly rose up to take its place.

“The echidna who had designed the garden was part of a tribe that had only recently attempted to join Ancient civilization. That tribe helped contribute to a great deal of advancements, but especially this garden—likely why most left together to guard against the evil. They must have banded together to stop the force released by their previous leader’s meddling, sealing it inside the Master Crystal at great cost to themselves. Then, they retreated from Ancient society and went to go watch over the Crystal in order to ensure that this power would never be unleashed upon the world again.”

Silence hung over the room for a long moment. 

“Man, it sounds way too stuffy when you say things like ‘in summation’. Never do that again.” 

Shadow’s gaze snapped over to Sonic so fast his face blurred. “Why in the name of all eight Chaos Crystals is that what you took away from this?!”

Knuckles grinned. “I appreciated it, the mood needed some lightening after all that.”

The android walked over to the nearest wall, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against it. “Just when I think I understand all of you…”

“Really, Knuckles, are you sure you’re okay?” Amy asked. “This seems like a lot to learn all at once.”

Knuckles shifted in place awkwardly, his eyes trained on the floor. “I mean, it’s a really sad story, and I’d always hoped I’d find other echidnas somewhere, but…at least now I know, y’know? It helps to know that my parents probably didn’t mean to leave me alone—even if the alternative is that apparently I’m part of an endangered species, I guess.”

Tails hid a small smile behind his hand. “Wait, does this mean that your house counts as a protected habitat now?”

“You have to get a certification for that kind of thing, Tails.” Amy facepalmed, but couldn’t quite manage to stifle her own amusement.

“Bold of you to assume I can’t forge a certification for a friend!” the engineer shot back.

“For-ger-y! Forgery! Forgery! Forgery!!” Sonic began to chant, Sticks joining in as well.

“Chaos, please have mercy and obliterate the pitiful dregs of my conscious mind.” Shadow pleaded, smirking despite his attempt at maintaining a serious tone.

At that, everybody laughed at least a little, and though none of them noticed, the Master Crystal seemed to glow just a little bit brighter in response.

Unfortunately, they were all interrupted when Knuckles abruptly began clutching at his head, grimacing slightly. “Knux? What’s wrong?” Sonic asked, dashing to his friend’s side.

“The Master Crystal’s freaking out—I think somebody else is on the island!” Knuckles gasped.

As soon as he’d finished speaking, one of the crystalline facets on the wall flickered briefly…before displaying an image of Eggman landing on the island. He appeared to have created some form of jet plane attachment to his Eggmobile (similar to the car he used in the village races), from which he released at least a hundred badniks, if not more. 

The entire team turned to their echidna friend. “This is your home.” Sticks said, her eyes flashing with determination. “What do you want to do?”

Knuckles grinned and held up his fists. “We’re gonna smash his robots, and then we’re gonna get him off my island!”

All six of them yelled in agreement, before racing out of the chamber and back the way they’d come, following Knuckles’s lead just like last time. They burst out of the side of the mountain as it shut behind them, ready for battle in poses that honestly looked awesome in slow motion.

Tails grabbed his older brother’s hands, swinging him around and around into a top-speed spindash that tore through a good five badniks all on its own. Sonic uncurled, landing low to the ground in a fighting stance, and yelled, “Hey Egg-breath! You haven’t even conquered Seaside Island yet, whatcha doing all the way out here?”

“Ohoho, I could ask the same of you, Sonic!” the doctor declared. “Is there something interesting on this island that I should know about?”

The blue hedgehog swiped under his nose, smiling smugly. “Psh, and here I thought you were a genius. Is your brain too smooth to figure it out on your own?”

Tails abruptly burst out laughing at that—so hard he almost fell out of the air, as a matter of fact. 

“Enough of this ridiculousness!” Eggman barked. “Robots, attaaaaaack!”

All six heroes charged into the fray, doing an excellent job of smashing badniks, as per usual. Sticks and Sonic had some fun passing the badger’s boomerang back and forth, while Shadow used his Chaos attacks to help Tails cover the rest of the team in the air. Amy’s hammer strikes left deep indents in the earth when she missed and piles of scrap when she didn’t, while Knuckles blew through entire groups of badniks with all the force of a freight train.

As a matter of fact, while Amy and Knuckles were usually at about the same power level when it came to heavy-hitting strikes, this time Knuckles was visibly dealing much more damage than the hammer-wielding hedgehog.  It quickly escalated to the point where his punches were practically emitting explosions as he plowed through robot after robot. He felt perfectly in tune with the very island itself, its power surging through him in a way he had never noticed as a child, because back then, he’d never known a life without it.

When he first realized this, he simply beamed and redoubled his efforts, but then, as he jumped up to deliver a particularly devastating drop punch—

—a massive green shockwave exploded out around him, leaving an entire crater in its wake.

When the dust settled, Knuckles brushed his hands off proudly…only to hesitate when he saw the particular smile that Dr. Eggman was wearing.

“Oh.” he muttered. And for a moment, he could have sworn that he almost felt the Master Crystal have the exact same reaction.

“So there is something special on this island! I knew it!” the doctor cried, his smile so wide it practically stretched past his mustache. “Badniks, search the area!”

The team quickly set about smashing all of the robots they possibly could with a newly frantic energy, shouting to each other as they fought to keep any from traveling out of sight. Despite their best efforts, however, a group of Motobugs broke away from the rest, tearing towards the forest at top speed.

“Sonic!” Tails yelled, kicking a Buzz Bomber in the side and pointing frantically. “They’re getting away!” 

“Ames, cover for me!” Sonic called, already dashing off into the undergrowth in pursuit.

Unfortunately for the team, however, the hole Sonic left in their defenses was just enough for one little badnik to escape their notice.

Double unfortunately, this particular badnik was a Burrobot.

Triple unfortunately, the Burrobot immediately set about digging into the ground on the side of the battlefield closest to the mountain.

Once it had fully drilled into the dirt, its hole no longer registered as a threat to the team, and so they simply fought around it. Even while Eggman panicked as his badnik supply began to run low (and screamed in an astonishingly high pitch when Sonic returned and roundhouse kicked the remnants of his Motobug force directly at him), it searched for the direction where the bewilderingly powerful energy source might be coming from, and dug towards it until it finally hit solid rock.

Then, it transmitted all of this information back to the Eggmobile.

By this point, Eggman had already been seriously considering just cutting his losses, fleeing back to his Jet Attachment (he was never letting Orbot name things again), and rattling off his usual “I’ll get you next time!” spiel. However, even as he began to inch warily away from the six heroes, he noticed that he’d received an information packet from a single stray Burrobot. 

He tapped on the notification, blowing the data up to full size—and rapidly regained his grin once more. 

“It would seem that you have failed to destroy all of my badniks!” he declared, before letting out a laugh that was more than worthy of the description ��evil’. “So…how about I drill into this mountain and see what I find inside, hm?”

He immediately threw his hovercraft into full reverse, leaving the team yelling after him as he rushed back to his Jet Attachment. By the time Sonic and Shadow had recovered from their surprise and reached him, he had already morphed the attachment into a drill-car that he had, though he would never confess as much, gotten the idea for after playing a certain Tomatopotamus game. 

Just as the two hedgehogs tore towards him, curling up into twin buzzsaws of metal-shredding power, Eggman stomped on the accelerator and blasted forwards into the mountain. He cackled with delight as rock flew all around him, forcing Sonic and Shadow backwards lest they get injured by the debris. 

It was only then that the rest of the team appeared, letting out gasps of horror at the sight before them. Shadow snarled, attempting to throw a Chaos Spear after the doctor—but the energy infusing the island was much higher compared to what he was used to, and so the spear was rather more powerful than intended.

This would ordinarily be a good thing, but in this particular case, it just blew away more of the mountain in addition to the back plating of Eggman’s drill…which sadly did nothing to deter the front from pushing further into the rock.

“If we can’t stop him digging, we at least gotta protect the Master Crystal!” Knuckles cried, his voice audibly straining under the stress.

Shadow set his jaw, folding his arms so tightly it almost looked like he was hugging himself. “I can try to harness the energy from the Crystal to teleport all of us back inside it. That should ensure we can keep him from stealing any of its power.”

“Shads, that’s…that’s not gonna, like, hurt you or anything, right?” Sonic asked, for once more comfortable expressing his emotions than he was letting things slide.

“Does that really matter right now?” he shot back, raising one brow.

The resounding “YES!” from the team left him reeling backwards with its force, his expression showing just how visibly struck he was by their care.

“Very well. I’ll rest once we get there, but right now can we focus on stopping Eggman instead of my health?” Shadow held out his arms impatiently, urging the others to grab on.

“For now. Later, we’re having a talk.” Amy hissed, grabbing onto his forearm in a distinctly threatening way.

Once the rest of the team was in physical contact with him, Shadow closed his eyes, focused—

—and then they were in the cavern. 

They were just in time, too, since the sound of the drill was already making its way into the heart of the Master Crystal. The team braced themselves for battle, preparing to destroy Eggman’s machinery the second it burst into the chamber.

Suddenly, the crystal cracked. Despite the drill’s relatively small size, the entire room shuddered violently, and Knuckles grunted with the exertion of feeling the distress of an ancient power.

And then, a lot of things happened very quickly one after the other.

Eggman burst through the crystal wall, shouting in triumph as he did so…

…only to yell in sudden terror as five of the six heroes slammed into his drill, warping the metal spiral and destroying several pieces of critical technology…

…and an ear-splitting, unholy howl echoed throughout the inside of the Master.

Slowly, everyone’s heads turned to face the newly created hole in the crystal. Around its jagged edges, oozing like oil into ocean water, dripped a steady stream of buzzing, glitching red squares.

As it pooled on the floor, forming into neat and perfectly edged shapes, Shadow hauled himself to his feet—only to freeze. “That’s…that’s the thing the echidnas sealed away! It’s reawakening now that the Master Crystal is damaged!”

“So how do we fix it?!” Sonic yelped.

Sticks looked up at Knuckles hesitantly. “You’re connected to this big ol’ crystal. You think you can heal it up if we get all those busted pieces over to where they oughta be?”

Knuckles nodded frantically. “Yeah, I can, but we gotta get that stuff back inside it first! I can’t put it back in there and heal the hole all at once, it’s taking energy already just to keep this place together!” At that, Sticks leapt into action, gathering up the shards and bringing them back to the gaping wound in the green gem.

“Shadow, this stuff is the opposite of Chaos energy, right?” Tails yelled over his shoulder, and received a sharp nod in response. “Maybe we just gotta use a lot of Chaos to push it back into the Master Crystal!”

“But Shadow’s already blown out his powers getting us down here!” Sonic gestured wildly over to the aforementioned android, who was still relying heavily on the crystal walls to maintain his upright position.

Amy stepped up to the hero’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Aren’t you always talking about how you can match Shadow in everything, Sonic?”

“Yeah…?” the blue hedgehog replied, squinting at her suspiciously.

“Well, with a little guidance, I’m sure you could channel the energy on the island yourself!” Amy smiled at him encouragingly, even as his eyes widened in shock. He whirled to look at Shadow, who shot him a sly smile and stumbled closer, leaning on Sonic’s other side.

“I’ll show you how. You have incredible abilities, Sonic—your speed and resilience already suggest that you have a connection to Chaos.” he said, and blue ears perked up in response.

“Okay…okay! Let’s do this!” Sonic bounced on his toes, shaking himself out before grinning confidently. “And uh…maybe make it snappy? That stuff’s comin’ close…” he muttered, eyeing the red substance uncomfortably.

“Look down at the crystal beneath your feet. You can feel the power flowing through it, yes?” Shadow said, nudging Sonic’s feet apart into a slightly more stable stance.

“Yeah…”

“Now, open yourself, and feel the power flow into you as you do so.”

Sonic felt tense for a moment as he tried to ‘open up’, hesitantly waiting to see what would happen. When nothing occurred at first, he tried to shake off the nerves by taking a deep breath—

—and that was when he felt the Chaos, flowing up through the soles of his shoes and into the very center of his body. 

He could distantly hear Shadow saying something, but he wasn’t sure what. All he could feel was the wild, free, untamed energy sparking in every single inch of his body.

And then he felt it.

It was cold, and sluggish, and everything it touched became more of it. It was, in essence, the exact opposite of him. He didn’t have to think, he just knew that this was wrong. This should not be here.

He could feel a cage already in existence, right there in front of him, but it was so slippery that it took a great deal out of him just to try and stuff it back in. It was only halfway inside by the time he found himself faltering, struggling to keep the thing from dripping back into existence. It may not have been as energetic as him, but it was persistent. So persistent, in fact, that he wasn’t sure if he could stop it…

“Sonic, you’re doing it! You’re actually doing it!”

“Sonic, you’re amazing! You’re doing great!”

“You got this, Sonic! I believe in you!”

“Don’t give up now, Sonic! You’re so close!”

“Come on, Sonic! Let’s finish this together!”

He yelled, gritting his teeth and clawing his fingers into the thing as he stomped into it with his own power, grinding it back into the crystal it had come from. He held it there, forcing it to stay as its own prison was rebuilt around it, piece by piece.

…his eyes opened.

For a moment, he saw a reflection on the newly healed crystal’s surface. Next to him was Knuckles, glowing with spirals of green light similar to the ones they’d seen on the drawings of the echidna clan and on the houses outside. 

And Sonic himself—his quills flared upwards, his fur stained in gold as though he’d been dipped in molten light. His bandages had come partly unraveled, and floated around him in some kind of invisible breeze. Speaking of floating, his toes just barely brushed the floor, his body suspended by the power flowing through it.

At first, he and Knuckles stared at each other as the Chaos energy dissipated, receding back into the Crystal along with the thing they’d just defeated.

“Knux, that was amazing!” he yelled, launching himself across the space between them in order to shake his friend around excitedly. “You just did a superhero move, man!”

“Hey, what about you?” the echidna shot back, beaming with delight. “You were flying! That was so cool!”

Seconds later, the two of them were very nearly tackled by their friends, all dragging each other into a massive group hug. 

“You both did it! Oh, I knew you could!” Amy cried, squeezing Knuckles and Sonic as tightly as she could.

Tails beamed up at the two of them. “That was SO COOL!”

“I can’t believe you crazy people actually managed to pull that off.” Sticks shook their head fondly, grinning as everyone else snickered at them calling anyone else crazy.

Meanwhile, Shadow hesitated for a moment before (in an extremely rare move) joining the group hug of his own volition. He didn’t say anything, but honestly, it wasn’t necessary. Everyone knew what he meant anyway.

After one more moment of basking in the relief of heading off a genuine disaster, Tails was the first to pull back, hovering over everyone else’s heads so he could be seen properly. “So, Eggman, you’re not gonna try messing around with this again, right?”

The rest of the team turned to face him warily, but there was no need for them to worry. “No! No no no, I deal in robots, not weird…godlike things!” the doctor exclaimed, shaking his head and waving his arms frantically. “Toying with forces I obviously can’t control would be just idiotic!”

[Cue barely-noticeable pause for interdimensional irony to hit.]

“And we can keep this between us, we don't need to tell anyone on Seaside Island about it, right?” Knuckles added.

The chorus of extremely vehement agreements that followed made him relax, even if only slightly.

“Welp! I’m ready to head home, how about you guys?” Sonic asked, lacing his hands together behind his head as he strolled towards the exit. 

Sticks was the first one to notice Knuckles’s hesitation. “You okay?” they asked him plainly.

“I don’t know…my ancestors made this place their responsibility, and I don’t want that thing getting back out. So I feel like it’s my responsibility, too. But also…Seaside Island feels more like home to me…because you’re all there.” Knuckles explained, scuffing one foot against the ground as he struggled to meet the others’ eyes.

“Knux…” Sonic reached out towards his friend, his expression lined with concern.

Before he could say anything more, though, Tails interrupted. “Hey, that’s not an unsolvable problem! I can set up some sort of transportation mechanism to let you come check in here without having to move out! And in the meantime, I’ll fly you over here as often as you want!”

“Wait, really?!” Knuckles gasped, his eyes practically sparkling.

“Sure thing! You can even help me design the blueprints for the transport, if you want.” the engineer offered.

“Ohmygosh, can we start talking about it right now?” At last, Knuckles began following his friends towards the exit, beaming with excitement all the while.

[Closeup on Knuckles’s hand as it brushes briefly against the wall of the Master Crystal’s cavern. Fade to outside, where Knuckles, silhouetted against the forest in the background, looks over his shoulder at the abandoned village where he grew up, before the camera focuses on one of the pieces of knotted rope swaying in the breeze in the foreground.

Another silhouette, this time of the team all climbing onto the plane at sunset, then taking off and beginning their flight back to Seaside Island. The final shot is of the six of them talking happily amongst each other, all clearly outlined against the golden light of the setting sun, flying over the pink-and-orange tinted ocean.

Roll credits.]

[shywhumpauthor]

Hey guys, so I just wanted to say that I’m probably not going to be putting out much writing for a bit. Like right now, I’m not actively working on writing anything. I feel kinda shitty about not writing though :/

I will probably (most likely, don’t want to say “definitely” though cause I know myself) put out some more short prompts/maybe some snippets in the next while but probably not any long pieces. Maybe. I don’t know maybe inspiration will strike tomorrow and this will all be a lie. But as of now, yeah.

​please stick with me here though I promise I’ll get back to writing soon.

I was also thinking about doing whumptober again, not sure if I will do it for a new series with characters or miscellaneous fills. Let me know?

[aromanticannibal]

The pattern is that people straight up do not read™. or they read a 3-5 tweet summary of what happened and treat it as if they did. or because shonen expectations based on "the classics" is bullshit and significantly rotted people's brains when deciding wether an ending is good or not.

Which could be nothing right

yeahhh. i will forever regret reading the last chapter through leaks because it was a dreadful experience, and watching everyone ever shit on it for like a week after genuinely made me want to just get off the internet forever or something because i felt like an idiot for liking the ending (all this is my fault for getting too invested in both tumblr and mha etc etc).

All the "it's rushed" and pacing complaints barely matter to me at this point because you just cannot feel the pacing of something correctly when you're reading it exclusively through leaks. you can't absorb info like that. And don't get me started on the number of complaints and criticisms I've seen of the last chapter that are just provably bullshit (I saw someone say Izuku didn't get a statue lmao. yes he did, you just read the fucking leaks and watched twitter drama unfold instead of reading the actual chapter i fear).

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

This may end up being Silver's ACOTAR posting for a little bit 💀

But not for long

[kikuism]

i finished five broken blades

[andyridgeley]

loving reading how to sell a haunted house cause im getting delicious lines like "he looked like exactly the type of guy who'd go to a waffle house at three in the morning after shooting a haunted puppet"

[portokali]

also!!!! @thegarlicbreads tagged me to share my most recent, current & next read!!! ty lett that's a v fun game! 🍃

tagging @mothvhs @pherelpis @pinknoisemp3 @quillsand @catboyparrish @librarybi @byrons and everyone else who wants to do it!!!

[britneyshakespeare]

oh no I found out my girl is a conservative

[iishmael]

I’m reading moby dick for the first time and I don’t know how it ends so pls don’t spoil me but if Queequeg dies I’m gonna fucking stab that damned whale myself. Queequeg is my favourite character 😭

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. ��Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[nickohoneyfly]

I was SUPPOSED to play an rpg's 1st session with my friends today, but three of the players didn't have their character sheets done, so our gm started to work on them before the session.

I took 35m max to do my sheet. I thought this would be quick. I was so wrong.

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀COCKWARMING ! —

#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, x gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. edging. office sex. public sex. sub/power sub reader. no mentions of specific anatomy. vox is in an online meeting for work. touch starved lucifer. val blowing his smoke on you for fun. non proofread because it's six in the fuckin morning and I have not slept a wink. #summary : in which they keep themselves buried deep inside of you while being busied by other stuff. #note : save me, I've been writing nothing but hazbin smut lately. i should really start working on other shows.. alastor's a bit shorter than the others, can't really think of a solid idea for him and I wanted to get this out as soon as possible

ʚ LUCIFER .

lucifer whines when you force him to focus on his unfinished work once again. he has been going back and forth from attempting to thrust into you, but you always found a way to press him down in his place firmly. he had some unfinished work that he left sitting in his office for almost a week now, and it irritated you. that's when you offered to cockwarm him while he worked, get him to finally get his hands on those unfinished works.

being absolutely touch starved, lucifer agreed without hesitation unaware of how miserable and impatient this will make him. his hand remain on his working desk, occasionally scribbling some words and a signature on the paper filled with printed words. he does his best to resist the urge to finally thrust into you, worried that you'd leave him unsatisfied if he doesn't do as he's told.

but there's a limit to how much he can contain himself, especially when he has you sitting on his lap with his cock stuffing you to the brim, when you'd tease him so often by clenching around him or moving your hips ever so slightly. lucifer whines every time, the hand that's placed on your hip squeezing on your flesh desperately.

"can i please.. just finish this up later?" his voice muffled from nuzzling his face into your shoulder, eyes closed shut to focus on the warmth engulfing his throbbing member. you let out a small chuckle, baring your teeth into his neck to draw out those pretty moans of his; his cock leaks pathetically inside of you.

"no can do, luci. you're not going to get whatever you want until you finish up." you pull away and tilt your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto his jaw while giving a quick glance at the papers sprawled across his desk. he's only halfway done with them. "you're doing pretty well, no? you're halfway done."

lucifer groans, annoyed as he picks up the pen from the desk again while reading through the papers. this time, you decide to tease him a little more instead of staying still. you connect your lips with his exposed neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as your hips slowly grind against his. you hear his breath hitch, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping you.

your name spills out from his lips breathlessly, following with a whimper that you love so much. you carry on with your actions, dark marks gradually bloom all over his skin like breathtaking flowers. lucifer shifts to lay his forehead on your shoulder, shuddering from pleasure; you tug on his soft hair, firm enough to lift his head up from your shoulder.

"stay focused, luci. remember what's waiting for you to finish your work."

ʚ ALASTOR .

"oh, what a twist!" alastor exclaims with his eyes glued to the book he's reading, chuckling like you're not clenching down on his cock out of desperation. your eyes are teary as you turn to peek at the page he's on, frustration brewing in your chest. upon noticing your reaction, alastor laughs while moving his hand to cup your face, leaning in with a grin. "don't you agree, my dear?"

you groan, parting your lips further enough to drop his thumb into your mouth, biting down on it. alastor mutters a small "fiesty" before buckling up his hips, watching your eyes widen from the sudden pleasure that shoots up your veins. his arm tightens around your waist to stop you from squirming around excessively.

"put.. the fuckin' book down, a-alastor.." your nails dig into his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, the back of your other hand hovering over your mouth with a frown on your face. alastor smiles in response, holding the book between the both of you now that there's a gap.

"why, it has only gotten interesting! patience is key, darling."

"it has been almost a whole fucking hour, alast-" your words get cut off by yet another harsh thrust of his hips, an uncontrollable moan slipping off your tongue. a low, barely audible grunt could be heard coming from alastor because of how you're squeezing around him like your life depends on it.

slowly, he places the book down, pushing two digits into your mouth as his sharp nails graze past your gums. your tongue swirls around them, gaze fixated on his that seems to be mocking your desperation. you grind your hips, wanting to feel more of that sensitive spot in you being stimulated by his tip brushing against it. alastor grunts every time you tighten around him, the feeling making his skin jump and his eyes close shut from the pleasure he receives.

you reach for the book to toss it aside, not allowing him any chance to get it back and return to what he was previously putting you through. he laughs at the action before getting cut off by yet another groan, a frown slowly finds its way to spread across his face despite the grin that remains on his lips.

"the book shall wait after all."

ʚ VOX .

the sound of vox's workers and colleagues echoes through his workplace, the source of it coming from the laptop that sits in front of him. he's holding an urgent meeting with them to discuss some things about work, yet you're here obediently sitting on him, cockwarming him. your arms hug his neck tightly, hands grabbing tightly onto his shirt while listening to him speak to the people in call.

you bite down every moan that builds in your throat, not allowing any sound to be heard by anyone but your partner. times when vox isn't discussing important matters, he leans into your ear to whisper praises, thrusting into you, and stops so suddenly when you're close to release.

he grins as you whine at the sudden loss of friction, skin flushed while feeling him draw lazy circles on your hips with his thumbs. he starts speaking again just when you're about to voice your frustration, drawing out a grumble from you. you stay there unattended, glancing at the part where the two of you connect; you're craving release, and you're done waiting.

with a steady pace, you move your own hips while holding onto his shoulders for support. vox's head snaps toward your direction, teeth gritting as he bites back the groans that threaten to leave his lips. he tries to hold you down, but his body betrays him and allows you to carry on with your movements. his head tilts back to lean against the headrest of his chair, the words that his workers speak gradually shifting to a blur in his mind.

"fuck, w-wait," his breath grows heavy, barely managing to keep his eyes open as you fuck yourself on his cock. you're supposed to be cockwarming him, not riding him. he has allowed you to the point of no return, how is he going to carry on with the meeting now? you grab him and connect your lips with his, drinking in his groans like how he does to your moans.

ignoring the calls of his name from the meeting, he pulls you closer by the waist as you grind yourself on him. it wasn't until he started getting annoyed by the meeting that he broke away from the kiss, strings of saliva still connecting your lips while his hand reached out to shut the laptop down. the room falls to a sudden silence, the only sounds that remain are your heavy breathing.

"you're gonna fuck up my company if this carries on," vox snickers before crashing his lips with yours again, hands holding onto your hips to thrust into you without anything holding him back this time.

ʚ VALENTINO .

you still can't process the fact that you're in valentino's studio with his cock buried deep inside of you while people walked around to work on set. valentino takes puffs from the cigarette he holds between his fingers, often ordering and even yelling at people as they rush to obey his commands.

nobody pays any mind to the both of you; in fact, they see it as something normal. after all, they're working for a porn producer, what is there not to be normal? you keep your face stuffed in the fluff of his coat, hands gripping tightly onto his outfit while still trying to adjust to how good he stretches you apart. everyone has just started working, and the set is still being prepared for a new film.

"you're tighter than usual my love, are you that excited to be around everyone?" he teases with a mocking tone, puffing out a wisp of pink smoke onto your flushed face. you lightly shake your head with a whine, the smoke that you inhale causing your vision to spin immediately. humming, valentino lifts your body up with the help of his lower pair of arms before roughly slamming you back down onto his cock. "I doubt that. you've always loved being fucking in public, no? look at you,"

you gasp, body tensing as a moan escapes your throat. you immediately bite down on your lower lip, eyes screwing shut while simultaneously having your body trembling under his hold. you don't want to draw too much attention to yourself, yet the idea alone excites you in an odd way that you never knew it would. noting your reaction, valentino continues repeating the action before stopping promptly, feeding himself with your choked back moans.

"keep looking pretty like that while i work, i'll have a reward waiting for you." you mewl at his words, giving him a weak nod while tugging onto his shirt. he takes another long drag from his cigarette before letting his gaze fall onto the prepared set displayed in front of him, eyes scanning for the stars of the show in the room.

he would moan softly into your ear whenever you clenched around him, teasing you with his mere voice and carrying on with his work. you don't complain, though, considering how you'll be fucked into a moaning mess once he's done with work.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[espace--positif]

Mornings With Him

A collection of husband!Zayne x F!Reader domestic headcanons [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: Mornings are always better shared. Especially with the love of your life. A collection of fluffy snapshots of mornings spent with husband!Zayne. Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader WC: ~2.1K Content tags: Established relationship, Domestic fluff, Fluff, Romance, Mild suggestiveness Read on AO3 // My Masterlist

Ever since you married the love of your life and began living together, your mornings have changed for the better. But things haven’t always been so smooth, on account of a few differences in your lifestyle that made themselves glaringly obvious early on.

For one, Zayne is a morning person, and you’re regrettably not. Not to the extent that he is, anyway. You don’t ever clash on this, but it’s caused some… unforeseen difficulties in the past, especially for your husband.

He’s always been the type of person to be ready a full hour before he has to leave, whereas you’re more likely to be rushing out the door exactly on the dot, if not later. On top of that, he’s also a morning runner. So when he would try to quietly sneak out of bed to begin his rigorous routine every morning and you’d sleepily cling to him, coaxing him back to the warmth of your shared bed with an almost 100% success rate, to the point where he started regularly missing his morning runs, he figured something had to change.

His solution? He’d find a way for the two of you to spend your mornings together, outside of bed.

Thus, he carefully crafts a shared routine for the both of you, easing you into his way of life while easing himself out of the constancy of his own diligence, little by little.

One early morning, as Zayne woefully pulls himself away from your iron grip, he decides to venture towards the kitchen on a mission. He brews two large cups of coffee and returns to your shared bedroom, where he finds you sprawled on his side of the bed, trying to soak up any residual warmth. You lift your gaze, meeting his with sleepy eyes, and he instantly recognizes the look on your face - his betrayal will not be forgiven nor forgotten, especially this early in the morning when you’re less than agreeable on most things. Well, on all things, really.

He sits at the edge of the bed and silently offers a cup — your favorite cup — and you glare for a while before sitting up and grabbing it. It warms your hands, and you start to think about forgiving him for abandoning his duties as your personal heater.

Over the next week, Zayne gradually adds more layers to your shared routine, carving out a space for you in his little tasks. You’ve become less and less insistent on dragging him back to bed by force, knowing that you’ll be rewarded with a delicious coffee delivered straight to you within a few minutes of his departure. Once his peace offering is well received, he wraps your robe around you and takes you by the hand, leading you to sit by the patio window to enjoy your coffee - in the warmer months, you often sit on the porch — and only then does he take the opportunity to complete his run.

There, while listening to birdsong and being caressed by the gentle breeze, you’re thankful for the brief moment of tranquil solitude. Besides, you know that your husband will be back like clockwork, right as you’ve had your last sip. The corners of your lips inevitably tug upwards every time you see him rounding the bend, jogging back to you. It’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time all over again. You stand to meet him halfway through your yard, and he gently kisses your forehead. You wrap your arms around his warm chest, and his embrace feels as comforting as it has ever felt.

You wash your face and brush your teeth while he showers, and vice versa, both of you relishing in the proximity and safety of each others’ presence even while doing something as mundane as getting ready. While you complete the final touches of your routine in the mirror, Zayne works on a simple breakfast. You’ve never been a breakfast person, but after much insistence and lecturing about how it’s the most important meal of the day, you end up caving, graciously accepting anything he offers you in the morning. His prowess at cooking helps too, of course.

Once you’re ready, you sit across from each other at the dining table, where a helping of sometimes egg and toast, sometimes waffles, sometimes fancy greek yogurt, sits waiting for you. There’s often no need for very many words as you share breakfast together. Both of you sit in the solace of each other’s company for a while, comfortable silence occasionally truncated by a comment of yours on how good the food is, or a comment of his on the weather forecast. Eventually, your renewed energy causes conversation to naturally take off, and you end up rambling about mundanities while he listens attentively, as though it’s the most riveting thing in the world.

By the time you’re set to leave, your morning has already brightened, your smile shining brighter than the sun as you offer to tighten your husband’s tie, a ritual he never refuses even though his tie is already in perfect condition. He returns your beaming smile, and finds that his morning has brightened too, more than he ever could have imagined. For a moment, Zayne blissfully contemplates how he would gladly upend his entire mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights, all at once, in exchange for this view.

Not all mornings are so predictable. In fact, some morning are simply a continuation of a long, long night…

Zayne almost thinks his eyes are deceiving him when he sees your hunched-over form lit up by dancing blue light from the TV screen. When he awoke at four in the morning to an empty and cold bed, he assumed that you fell asleep in front of the lawyer drama you were so captivated with, but he didn’t imagine that you’d still be watching.

He gingerly comes down the steps, socks muffling his movement, and you’re so caught up in your show that you don’t hear him coming. He stands there, amused and baffled all at once, taking in the sight of you. Here sits his wife, normally a pinnacle of responsibility, huddled in a blanket with nothing but her face poking out, eyes bleary with tiredness, but burning with fervent focus at whatever ridiculous plotline is surely unfolding before her. He lets out an incredulous chuckle. The TV volume is almost too low to hear and you’re busy squinting at the subtitles; you’re considerate even in your most unreasonable moments.

“Honey,” he says, breaking the almost-silence.

You slowly turn to face him, a serious expression etched on your face.

“I think Jacob’s gonna cheat… with Anna-Maria,” you say gravely, as if the world hangs in balance.

He makes a mental note never to leave you to your own devices in front of these shows, even if you swear up and down you’ll only watch one more episode before you join him in bed. But for now, he figures you’ll need proper closure on whether Jacob truly plans to cheat on his wife with his legal assistant, and though he’s loath to admit, he’s curious himself, as Jacob always struck him as an honest enough man.

So he plops down next to you, reserving his lecture on your late-night escapade for another time. You unfurl yourself from your blanket-cocoon, wrap the blanket around you both, and snuggle up against him, thankful for the added warmth on this chilly winter morning.

You watch two and a half more episodes together, in which the Jacob storyline wraps up neatly with a bow on top - he was majorly guilty, of course. Zayne turns the TV off when all is said and done, and you sit in silence, processing the somewhat unsatisfying end to the plotline.

“Don’t you think he got off too easy?” you look up with half-lidded eyes and ask Zayne with genuine curiosity. At this point, the show has become entirely too real in your sleepy mind, and you seem to suddenly have a big problems with the gaps in realism. “His wife immediately went to ‘let’s try couples therapy’ and not ‘you’re an asshole and I’m divorcing you.’ She even put some of the blame on herself!”

Zayne can’t help but smile at how serious yet unserious you look right now - it’s frankly adorable.

“Well, Jacob seems to have something called plot armor, so that helped to lessen his sentence.”

You chortle at the clever wordplay, lightly tapping your husband on the chest. Lazily reaching over to pick up your phone, you check the time and let out a groan.

“Oh no. It’s almost six.”

“It sure is,” Zayne replies with a resigned smile.

“And now I’ve kept you up too,” you whine. “Ugh, I’m sorry. We should go get ready.”

But just as you’re about to drag yourself away from him, Zayne pulls you back into his chest.

“Call in.” It’s more of a gentle command than a suggestion.

You contemplate his words for a while, and he hopes that the warm comfort he feels right now, your body against snugly glued to his, will entice you to stay right where you are as much as it’s enticing him.

“I do have a lot of sick days saved up…” you ponder out loud. “Okay, fine, but under one condition.”

Zayne tilts his head at you inquisitively. Conditional capitulation being one of your specialties, he presumes you’re going to drag him through another one of these dramas that you enjoy so much, and that he’s grown to enjoy as well since meeting you (though he would never admit it).

“You call in too,” you say with a mischievous smile. “I stole two whole hours of your beauty sleep, and a certain someone once told me that any less than 8 hours is unhealthy. So let’s just stay right here and nap all day.”

Zayne leans over and plants a gentle kiss on your lips. You have a knack for saying exactly what he wants to hear — yet another one of your specialties.

“Deal.”

Even when you’re on vacation, hundreds of miles away from any and all possible responsibilities, Zayne doesn’t seem to have an off button. He’s up at seven thirty in the morning, and despite your countless nagging about how that’s too early, he’ll insist that it’s far later than his usual, and that it’s perfectly reasonable.

He’s seemingly impervious to jet lag - he’ll tell you all about how good sleep hygiene and optimal nap times contribute to mitigate its effects, though you’re convinced your husband must have some kind of genetic or occupational advantage over you.

Your mornings together begin almost two generous hours after he’s begun his own routine. His 6AM runs are replaced with what he calls a leisurely maintenance routine at the hotel gym. Then, he comes back upstairs to quietly shower off while you’re still dozing, but not before scouting the hotel buffet. This is a very crucial part of his plan for the two of you.

Zayne is thoughtful enough to let you sleep in on vacation, completing the rest of his morning routine as silently as possible, knowing how much you both need the time off. However, once his shower is completed, your time is up. By 9AM, the curtains are flying open, room service is already on the way with coffee, and he’s crawling into the bed you’ve now appropriated as your own, gently but firmly coaxing you awake as you try to cover your eyes in vain. You settle for gluing yourself to his body and using him as a makeshift shield against the bright sun filtering through the window.

“Mmh… ‘s too early,” you mumble into his chest. He smells of hotel soap, and hotel soap has never smelled so good.

“It’s nine in the morning, dear. You’ll stay jet lagged the whole time if we don’t fix that schedule of yours.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah - you’ve heard it all before. But staying right there, on soft plush covers, cuddling with your husband in the morning sun sounds like an awfully good deal in exchange for a little bit of jet lag.

“And the buffet closes at 10:30.”

He never tires of the way your entire body perks up at the magic word. You look up at him, blinking remnants of sleep away, and repeat his words, as if they’re too good to be true.

“Buffet?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the pastry situation?”

Your suddenly stern face and steadfast determination sends a low rumble of laughter through his chest.

“Full spread. Salty and savoury. Heated on demand.”

You gulp.

“And eggs?”

“However you want them. Unlimited toppings and fillings.”

You practically shove him off and commando-roll out of the queen bed, scurrying around the room to start getting ready. Normally your not-so-gracious dismount from your impromptu cuddle session would’ve earned you a cheeky comment, but as he watches you discard your robe on the bathroom floor, then saunter over to your open luggage to find your “buffet-primed clothes”, as you like to call them, your bare curves basking in the sunlight, he finds that he doesn’t mind your enthusiasm at all.

Thank you for reading! I’ve been thinking about domestic Zayne nonstop so of course I had to write about it. He’s so husband-material coded it’s not even funny. I might write something like this again in the future if I think of more scenarios! 💜