#than the animal whose taste you do like

[alveolaraspergillosis]

i have mostly given up on trying to get other people to be more plant-based in their diets or be aware of their hypocrisy but i do still feel deeply baffled by it. like i have a friend from back home who regularly posts her beef/chicken/pork dinners but is constantly expressing how cruel she thinks rabbit meat is, which ok i get it you have a pet rabbit. but the other day she posted some instagram stories from visiting a traditional seafood market at south korea, pictures of all these fish and octopuses on display and it’s all so cool and it’s gonna become delicious food and so on. and then a picture of a bucket of turtles, for turtle soup, with a caption about how gross and sad it is that they’re selling turtles for turtle soup. like that’s just ontologically so wrong and so immoral. unlike, you know, the octopus bucket. girl you’re the one at the seafood bazaar ???? like how is it more wrong to have turtle soup than octopus soup????

[musouie]

mdni ⸝⸝ panty sniffing/licking, stalking, voyeurism ꒰ repost ^^

stalker!toji, who first sees you at a bar and thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. his eyes stray to you all night, unabashedly undressing you each time, and he tells himself as he follows you home that it’s only out of curiosity.

stalker!toji, whose curiosity compels him to your window, where he watches you undress for bed with wide eyes and a pounding heart. his eyes drink in your nude figure, committing it to memory. as he does, his pants grow tighter, his cock twitching in his underwear, and he sinks a hand into them and begins stroking himself languidly.

stalker!toji, who takes his sweet time to get familiar with your schedule. he knows the time you leave for work each morning, the route you take — and naturally, he knows about your bad habit of forgetting to lock your door.

he’s an opportune man. a criminal with the will to match. and while his own heart may race, there is no guilt or regret as he creeps into your home while you’re out at work. he’s quick — masterful, even. and he beelines for the master bedroom, sniffing the air as though he were a hound before his eyes lock onto a used panty at the foot of your bed.

stalker!toji, who gets on his knees and plucks it off the ground with care, turning it over in his hands before bringing it up to his nose. his pupils dilate as he inhales your scent — so much more potent than what had lingered on the windowpane, so much richer than that lingering on your bed...

but it isn’t enough. not nearly enough. and he brings your panty away from his face only to press it to his mouth. his eyes flutter closed and his tongue darts out to trace along the dampened crotch, saliva thickening as your taste blooms across his tongue.

the groan he lets out is long and guttural, hips lurching forward into nothing as his cock throbs in his pants, and fuck, he swears he’s never tasted a thing sweeter.

stalker!toji, who begins to mouth at your panty like a drunkard, spittle building at the corners of his lips and against the lace as he laps at your dried juices. he sucks, his lower stomach rumbling with an indescribable hunger, and that craving draws him to shoving your underwear in his mouth so he can chew and suck on the fabric.

he does so with reverence, groaning and shaking when his teeth poke through the lace and graze against his tongue — like a starved beast getting a mere taste of human flesh for the first time.

stalker!toji, who shoves your underwear back in his pocket, cock so hard that it aches. he can feel his heartbeat in his pants, his head light and his entire body thrumming.

he knows you won’t be home for another hour, but it doesn’t give him peace of mind as he sneaks back out of your house and moves out of sight.

his mind is racing as he waits, the taste of your cunt on his tongue and your panties burning a hole in his pocket. it makes waiting so much worse, and all he can do is shove his hand down his pants once again and stroke at his cock, cheeks red and sweat sticking his hair to his forehead.

stalker!toji, whose need is as vile as he is. and now that he has your panties, has licked at them like an animal, he wants to know how it feels to be with you properly.

𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐞 © 2024 𝐀𝐑𝐑. it is prohibited to reproduce, distribute, or transmit my works in any form or by any means! ﾉ masterlist

[atebyflowers]

cw: smut, strapon, breeding (kinda?), oral — not edited

"I think it's too much" you spoke as ellie unboxed the new strap she had bought just for you, the length making your eyes widen. you finally decided to let her buy one and use it on you after a few weeks of her desperate attempts to casually bring up the desire to do so.

“Abby never fucked you with this?" She questioned as she tightened the harness around her, leaning down to kiss your temple. "She did..." you replied breathing out shakily as she began kissing down your body, your shirt already removed. "Then don't worry" she instructed, now undoing your jeans. "Hers was smaller though ..” you added on in nearly a whisper, Ellie making her way up to your face again — laughing before kissing down your neck. "mm ... I'll be gentle I promise" she whispered into your ear to reassure you.

Lined up with your slit, she drags the silicone up and down the thin fabric still attached to your body — a wet spot leaking through as she teases. "Fuck ellie stop teasing" you hiss, desperately moving your hips trying to cause friction. Ellie laughs at your egarness, "getting you ready baby be patient" she replies, leaning up to connect your lips — your patience decreasing despite her words. "Ready f'me?" She questions, your foreheads attached as you nod impatiently.

Ellie pushes the fabric aside, dragging one of her hands from from your upper body down, rubbing circles around your already soaked cunt. "So wet already ..." she speaks in a mocking tone, and before you have the chance to respond — she's already pushing the strap into your body causing you to let out a load whimper.

Her eyes locked on your expression, you desperately hook your arms around her neck, ellie starting off slow as she guides the silicone in and out of you — allowing you to feel her size fill you up. "F-fuck els... feels so good" you let out louder than before, your words causing her to slowly increase her pace.

"Yea? You like that baby?" She breathes out in response, leaning down to hood you closer to her as she can't hold back anymore — grinding into you harder and faster. Your sweet sounds fill the room, loud yet barely understandable as the overwhelming sensation drives you crazy. "Sound like a fucking animal ..." ellie whispered in your ear, "go on, let everyone hear whose fucking you like this" she ads on. Tears fill your eyes as your slick drips down the long silicone, barely fitting into you all the way — your wetness soaking the sheets with every thrust. "Please els ... m feels so good" you whine, "does it? Feels that good?" Ellie mocks you, wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks. "Give it to me sweetheart, let it out" she adds on, her words making you nearly release on the spot.

You whine out as you cum around her. Ellie not slowly her pace down in the slightest as your voice grows louder. " it's too much " you choke out as she rambles sweet words into your ear again "its okay angel you're doing so good .... need to fill you up" she replies, her silicone now coated in your cream. "God you're such a fucking slut, look so good for me Angel" she says sucking down on your skin, her mix of praises and degradation causing a knot to form in your stomach. "Ellie ..." you sob out through a trail of pornographic moans, ellie unable to respond as you squeeze around her before releasing again.

She steadys her pace this time, placing kisses gently on your now bruised neck. "Good girl ... did so good f'me" she praised, pushing your hair away from your face before leaning down. Slowly, she pulls the silicone from your body, your release pouring out of you as she gently rubs your swollen clit. Desperate to savour your taste, she leans downstairs and places her tongue between your drenched folds — your voice breaking through whines as the feeling sent shock through your body. Unlatching her mouth from your body, she places kisses up your stomach as she makes her way to your face to do the same. "So pretty ...." she trails out, caressing your face as she praises you for taking all of her.

[rcmclachlan]

8x01 coda

Inspired by @dadbodbuck's devastating post.

+

When Eddie draws in a breath, there's an audible crackle. It sounds almost like rales, or maybe heartbreak just manifests as broken glass and burnt particles from a discharged weapon in the lungs. He drops his head onto his chest as though it's too heavy to hold up and says, voice dead, "I don't know what else to do."

Tommy takes a sip of his beer—his fourth of the night—and stares at the ceiling while he tries to come up with the magical answer they've been searching for ever since the Skype call cut out. He frowns. Who still has a popcorn ceiling in the 2020s? He could scrape, skim, and sand it in a weekend.

Evan helpfully mutters something about non-native species into Tommy's thigh, a wet patch of drool expanding where his mouth is smushed into the denim, and Tommy presses his fingers slightly into the back of his neck. He settles almost immediately, then shows his appreciation by opening the floodgates again, soaking right through to Tommy's skin. He's still wearing the cone hat.

"Maybe there's nothing else to do," Tommy muses quietly. He takes another sip of the Nose Job he has no choice but to drink, because for some reason it's all Eddie has in the house. It tastes like grass.

"Used to be that when he was mad about something, he'd tell me to my face." Eddie lifts his head, only to drop it back against the edge of the couch. He's been sitting on the floor for almost an hour. "Even when he was little. He'd plant his feet and say it point blank: I'm mad at you."

Tommy huffs a reluctant laugh at the image.

"Guess he clocked that the reason he's said it so many times is because I never fucking learn." The crackle in Eddie's lungs is loud and awful. Tommy peers down to make sure there isn't blood in Eddie's teeth. "I just... I just hurt him, over and over. I've been doing it for years."

"Hey, no—" Tommy starts.

But Eddie either doesn't hear him or doesn't want even a crumb of kindness tossed his way, because he pushes on, voice growing weaker with every word. "I can blow up a million balloons and I can love him more than anything or anyone, but it's never going to be enough to make up for any of it. He cut his losses. I-I can't even be mad about him hating me, because I can't blame him."

With a wet gasp, Eddie turns his head against his shoulder and shudders.

Inhaling through his nose, Tommy closes his eyes and tries to see things from Christopher's point of view. It takes a few tries, mostly because of a gangly, desperate boy from thirty years ago who would've gladly sacrificed a limb to see his father show him a fraction of the love Eddie Diaz has for his kid.

But once Tommy shoves his inner child out of the way, he can see what Chris sees with startling clarity. Evan's said before that Chris hates their job, is terrified of losing Eddie or Buck the way he lost his mom. Tommy knows a little about Eddie's messy dating history and how it basically amounts to him just chasing one ghost after another out of some misplaced sense of duty to Chris—without ever asking Chris what he actually wants, or what he wants for Eddie.

The thing with his dead wife's doppelganger is too much for even Tommy, and he heard about it second hand. He can't imagine what it was like for Christopher to walk into that.

Tommy opens his eyes and looks down at Eddie, who's hunched over like an animal trying to hide a wound. He looks like something that belongs in the Louvre. The Despair of the Father Whose Best Isn't Good Enough (2024), oil on canvas.

"Eddie," he says gently. Any louder and Eddie will crumble to ruins. "There's nothing more for you to do other than what you're doing. Keep loving him and keep showing up for him, even though it hurts. He will talk to you again."

"How do you know?" Eddie mumbles into his own shoulder.

"Because if he hated you, he never would've taken the call in the first place."

Evan sighs in his sleep, and Tommy runs his thumb over the just-buzzed edge of his nape so softly it wouldn't wake a baby, never mind a full-grown man. He thinks idly about the way people bleed themselves dry for love, and for hope.

He wouldn't spare his father a single drop of blood. He thinks he'd tap a vein if Evan asked.

Pressing his lips together, he nudges Eddie with his foot until Eddie lifts his head. His eyes are glassy and rimmed red, but there's a little less devastation in his gaze than there'd been when he'd shut the laptop and gone straight into the kitchen for the beer.

"Just give it time," Tommy says.

Sniffling, Eddie looks at the hand Tommy has on Evan's neck, and tries to muster up a smile. "And how much more time are you going to give before—"

"Nope," Tommy cuts in, because that's a conversation for another time, another place, and another person. "You think I won't literally kick a man when he's down?"

It's not his best work but it makes Eddie laugh, so he calls it a win.

[another-lost-mc]

I would like to imagine that my MC recently got a reversible octupus plushie she got from human world when she visited home. The demon brothers notices the new plushie in MC's room but did not care about it until they saw it changed to the angry face.

Now, everyone of them is frantic, including Luci but his prideful self decides to keep it cool.

Who in the Devildom made MC mad? Asmo and Levi is crying. Mammon is pacing around the common room. Luci, Satan, and Belphie are seething. Beel lost his appetite.

They did not notice anything while at RAD, or when the residents from Purgatory Hall visited.

Was it because Beel ate MC's pudding, when she specifically said that she's keeping it because she will eat it as a midnight snack?

Was it Levi when he *asked* MC to watch new anime season installment, for 3 nights in a row?

Or Satan when he spam messaged MC with cat pictures?

Spoiler- It was actually Solomon who switched it to angry just to troll the demon brothers and MC though that it was not a big deal anyway 🤣

a/n: I want one of those plushies too, they're so cute.

when mc has a reversible mood plushie | the demon brothers

0.5k words| sfw | gn!reader

cw: a bit of mischevious sleep/dream stuff in belphie's section.

They freak out when they see your plushie is turned to the angry side and assume you're unhappy. One day they peek in your room to talk to you. They spot the little octopus plushie laying on your bed and it's flipped back to the happy side again. Yay! But wait, what did they do to make you so happy in the first place?!

Lucifer thinks that you liked all the extra time you spent helping him with some student council business this week. You complained at the time, but was that a ruse to hide how much you enjoyed his company as much as he secretly enjoyed yours?

Mammon thinks you're his good luck charm and wouldn't you know it, he just hit it big at the casino. He has a few outstanding bills to pay off, but first he's gonna buy you something nice!

Levi gave you some extra gacha capsule toys he had duplicates of. He wasn't even sure if you liked that anime, but maybe he guessed your favourite character by accident. (After this, he's going to give you a lot of little gifts featuring a particular character whose name you don't even remember, but he looks so excited to give them to you that you can't refuse.)

Satan thinks about the books he's lent you recently and assumes curling on the sofa with a good book solved all your problems. He loves those particular books and now he's certain that you love them too. Of course you did, who else knows your taste in literature or anything else better than him? He can't wait to talk to you about them in more detail later.

The only thing Asmo can think of is that you realized a selfie of you two together on Devilgram started trending before he even noticed. Well, he's going to be taking your picture a lot more from now on. It's adorable how camera-shy you are, but he promises to keep most of them private for only the two of you to enjoy. ♡

Beel avoided a meltdown last night when the buffet he took you to threatened to cut him off. He tries really hard to keep his hunger in check when you go out together, so you must be really proud of him! Maybe he'll pick up a few dozen cupcakes at Madam Scream's as a thank-you gift...

Belphie could tell you were feeling stressed last night. His brothers just don't know how to leave you alone, do they? They bother you with their foolishness and you're too nice to say no (even though he knows your grumpy little octopus friend is a warning to them all if they don't get the hint). If he made you a little drowsy after dinner so you could go to bed early and get a good night's sleep, that's his business. He thought he was careful not to leave a trace when he visited your dreams last night too, but maybe you knew he was there all along? Well, he's happiest when he can spend time with you, awake or asleep, so it makes sense you feel the same way.

[1427]

petal plush’d

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary:

Sinnedenoderum: Floral Species - When inhaled by human beings it has psychoactive properties as well as acting on the nervous and vascular systems. Often causes a lack of inhibitions and desire or delusion of the need for sexual intercourse. In some cases will cause tumecense in individuals affected. 

Setting: Season 2, the farm. 

Warnings; dub-con (reader is willing but daryl doesn’t ask), drugging (sex pollen, without consent/forcefully), size!kink, panty sniffing, oral (m and f), unprotected piv, mentions of vomit (no one actually vomits), rough sex, swelling genitalia, poorly written SMUT, no plot just VIBES (sex pollen vibes)

Word Count: 3k

A/n: heed the tags y’all. Enter at your own risk. This is more idea/concept than good prose so; sorry if it’s written like dogshit.

18+ mdni. 

masterlist

Daryl should know better. Everyone who ever known anything up in the mountains knew you don’t smell the purple flowers. Daryl shouldn’t be wasting any time smelling any flowers. Supposed to be out hunting. But nah, had to stop and do it. After all there was a whole damn bush of ‘em. How could he not? 

Honestly, he’d probably already been influenced by the time he kneeled down and took a big inhale. The spores already creeping in and taking hold of him. As soon as he does it, he stands up straight as an arrow. A mission. A need. An ache. 

He stalks back to camp, handful of flowers and spores that he’s tracking all through the forest. This is how they spread. This is how they used the human species to populate. 

He’s over by the tents, blinking back into reality as he unzips yours. He doesn’t know it’s yours, doesn’t care. Doesn’t matter. His brain is reset - back to zero. Back to puberty and being so horny he could fucking die and he’s going to find a pair of used underwear and he’s going to put it in his fucking mouth. His ears are pounding, he’s never felt dirtier. His cock rock hard and killing him. 

Your few pairs of dirty panties are hidden in a ball in the bottom of your backpack and they are honestly disgusting. Just exactly how Daryl likes them. Worn maybe a few days, and when you were working in the sun. Sweaty and salty and tangy and delicious. His saliva bringing the taste back to life on his tongue, his eyes roll back into his head.

He’s an animal. On all fours in your half unzipped tent with a wad of soiled underwear in his mouth. Hand shooting down his pants to touch himself but it doesn’t feel like anything. 

Nah, he should know better. Knew it wouldn’t. Knew he either had to ride it out or find a girl. But now he knew he had to find whoever these belonged to. This fuckin’ taste. He needed you. 

He quickly scours the tent for a clue as to whose tent it is. Coming across some silly charm bracelet he’s seen you wear and a few notebooks he’s definitely seen you writing in. 

Daryl exits the tent with a bit more hesitancy, his heart pounding even harder. Part of his brain fighting back against what he knew this flower was about to make him do to you. 

This is how they spread. 

He comes across you alone on the far edge of the field hanging laundry on the line, almost hidden in the tall grass that edged the property, grateful that he didn’t have to face anyone else like this. His hand covers his hard dick in his pants before he calls out to you, “Hey!” 

You jump, not realizing anyone had been out here with you, wondering how long he’d been standing there. You give him a once over and realize something’s wrong, he’s out of breath and looks like he’s in pain. “Hey!” You call back, continuing to hang clothes, “What’s going on?” 

You put your hand up to shield the sun as you make eye contact with him. He’s standing there with his hand over his mouth, slumped shoulders, other hand loosely over his crotch - before he starts walking toward you. Feet scraping against the grass as he stalks over. 

“Gonna need yer help w’somethin’.” He shouts, finally getting close enough to speak at a normal volume; to see him without squinting your eyes in the sun. 

He’s flushed, his heart racing. You can tell just by looking at him that whatever he needed help with, you didn’t want to be involved. You assumed it was something like hard labor. Or walking far somewhere. And you were enjoying the mendacity of hanging the laundry on the line. It was serene. "I'm kinda busy, can't someone else help you?"

"Naw, s'gotta be you." He replies quickly, his voice almost dancing up your neck. His moves are deliberate as he positions himself behind you, one hand grazing the skin on your shoulder before pulling it right across your body. Crossed across your chest, he whispers even deeper into your ear, "These're yers, righ'?" He asks gruffly while pulling his arm up and into a light chokehold, elbow crooked around your neck, his whole body pressed into you. Your eyes shoot wide while he holds up a pair of your used panties with an extended arm directly in your line of sight. The light stain clear as day, you're more mortified than confused. His grip gets tighter, "They are, ain't they?" his heavy breaths moving your hair as he speaks into your ear. 

You nod, cautiously, curiously. "Mmhmm" 

As he pulls the panties close to your face you see the soft purple colors of a flower - and then you smell it. On top of your own scent there is a light delicate unmistakeable floral smell. Daryl’s holding the flower inside the panties, shoving them both forcefully in your face. “Don’ be shy, com’awn.” He grunts, without taking his arm from your neck he removes the flower to put the panties back up to his own face. He maneuvers you slightly in his grip and shoves the flower back into your nose. Both of you taking deep breaths in. You don’t have time to wonder what the hell is going on before it hits you. Daryl’s inside his head screaming at himself, but he can’t stop. He doesn’t know he wouldn’t have to use some flower to get with you. Or that you’d probably have done this willingly. 

You don’t have time to think about it. You don’t care. 

You’re overtaken. Set to zero. This insatiable need; you look over at him, gnawing at the light stain right in the center, and it fills you with desire. He tears himself away to see if it had worked yet. Your dilated pupils in the midday sun were an instant give-away. He pulls you fifteen feet towards the tall grass and shoves you backwards, you land on your ass and your elbows but even that pressure and shock vibrates through your body like a dull orgasm. 

Your heads swimming, you’re fucking drowning in it. Daryl’s between your legs and pulling your panties off of you as fast as all of this seemingly has happened, his tongue covered in saliva like he’s fucking drooling for it. He needs you, now. To taste that fuckin’ juice right from the tap. He dives into you nose first, parting your lips harshly for his rough tongue, he’s not trying to please you. He’s trying to eat you alive. He’s never been hungrier. 

There’s a thought prickling in your subconscious; you know the flower is what did this to both of you. Looking down your body, his tongue on your cunt is starting to become way too sensitive, you realize your pussy is swelling. Engorged, puffy, and honestly adorable. Daryl seems to like it, licking along the glossy wet skin more slowly. Taking your swollen lips in his mouth and swirling his tongue all around them. The sensation vibrating inside of you only reminding you of how hollow you feel. “Daryl-!” You choke out, he grunts into you in response. 

“Put that fat cock down my throat already.” Your eyes go wide at your own words, you can’t imagine ever saying that; and yet it slips right out of your mouth like you’d never been more confident in your whole life. It is what you wanted. But…damn. It was like every dirty thing your subconscious ever wanted was pushing it’s way through and to the surface. It’s on your skin, it’s in your thoughts, it’s bursting out of your fuckin’ soul. 

When Daryl hears your words it sparks something inside him too. Reignites a desire long lost to actual experience. Something he’d always wanted to try but never could. He was going to fuck your face until you threw up all over his cock. He smiles, kissing up your leg, “Ya wanna choke on it, huh?” 

Your eyes roll back as you feel him move from between your legs, shuffling through the tall grass to kneel beside you. Daryl gazes down at your body, your skin sunkissed and flushing and perfect, everything seemed brighter. Like you were fuckin sparklin’ in the sunshine. He’s not expecting his cock to be just as swollen as your pussy was, but jesus christ. It almost makes him lose his balance, he’s never seen himself look so big. It turns him on that much more. He can’t take it, your mouth just inches away and drooling for it. 

Your cheeks immediately burn at the entrance of his engorged member. Spit rocketing out the sides of your mouth around him as your breath quickens. He pushes himself deeper into you. poking at the back of your throat and you gag. He doesn’t care, you don’t care. He drives himself in and out of your mouth with no abandon, like he’d never been able to do before. Always too scared, too ashamed, too embarrassed. Never able to take the back of the girls head and just force her down on him. Exactly everything he’s doing to you now. And you love it. Your eyes sting with tears, and you’re gagging and spitting up thick strings of saliva and mucus, and you can hardly breathe. Daryl’s looking down at you, thinking to himself that he’s never seen someone look more fuckin’ beautiful. “Takin’ ma cock like such a good slut, hm?” 

You look up at him, mouth stuffed full. As he speaks your eyes flutter closed, nothing's ever sounded hotter. It seeps into you and shakes your core. Daryl pulls his hips back, hands in your hair and pumps long purposeful strokes into the back of your throat while he continues praising you, “So. Fuckin’. Good. Fer me.” Each grunt another rough assault on your mouth.

Your jaw was starting to seize up, your cheeks completely abused. Your tears turning to real ones, whines at the back of your throat. Snot bubbling out of your nose as you try to breathe. 

Daryl doesn’t notice but he stops anyway, pulling himself out of your mouth, his cock bouncing proudly as he makes his way between your legs again. 

He’d looked down and over you, taken one look at that puffy pussy, jiggling in the sunlight, and the flower took him over. No thoughts left in his head; no more perverse diversions, just the need to empty inside of you. To fill you full. 

You close your eyes and wait as you feel him push through your folds, kissing the head of his cock with your sensitive clit a few times before dipping himself inside of you. His swollen head pushing your walls apart is an agonizingly delicious burn. Slowly inching himself inside, he can’t fucking breathe you’re so fucking tight. 

Every part of you pulsates with extra blood, so sensitive and juicy and perfect. As he starts to pull out, you can feel your pussy being pulled back with it. The size and girth of him creating a suction inside of you, it pulls him back in. Daryl groans deeply at the feeling and begins to reposition himself 

Grabbing your legs and pushing your knees up toward your head, your hips angled directly to the sky as he plunges long deep strokes into you. Your pussy pulling up with his cock every time he pulls out. You can see him pulling and pushing with every thrust, your lips coming to meet his shaft and swallowing him again. 

“Fuckin’ made for ma’ cock, huh?” He takes one hand off the back of your thigh and holds himself at the base, rubbing himself back and forth through your folds harshly. Watching the plump skin jiggle around his cock. He’s never seen anything like it, so full and perfect and so fucking hot. He almost gets lost in it, fucking up and into your tumescent lips, but you want him inside again. You’d never felt so full in your life. 

You buck your hips up into him and he gets the message, burying himself inside of you slowly and to the hilt. He pulls himself out of you again, even slower. Both of you just feeling as every vein and bulge is suctioned tight to your walls as he moves. 

You both seem to drone into this feeling. Him slowly sliding in and out of you, both of you watching as your pussy contracts around him - until you start moving to meet his hips, wanting him even deeper. 

Daryl sits up and repositions you both again, his thick calloused digits moving over your skin so gently in comparison to this whole experience.  Pushing your legs, and repositioning your hips so that you’re face down in front of him. Can’t fuckin’ wait to feel that grip from behind. He knows he’s done for the second you arch your back and push yourself back into him. He’d hardly got the tip in before you were bottoming yourself out ontop of him. As you slowly pull yourself off he watches your asshole puff out, his cock head pushing it out from the inside. Fuck, he can’t even move. Just letting you ride him from underneath, watching your asshole push out and around his cock from inside your fucking body. Holy fuckin’ goddamn shit. 

You milk his cock with your pussy until you can feel him swelling even more. You slow down to give him back control, to let him use you however he wants. Daryl takes one hand on each hip and pushes you flush with the ground. His thumbs spreading you apart so he can watch his cock drive into you as he finishes. He’s doesn’t know it yet but he’s going to think about how good your cunt swallowed him every time he cums for years - it’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his life. 

Pulling your hips back against him with such force his fingernails dig into your skin, your gasping out screams as he fucks into you so deeply you forget how to breathe. You can feel every single twitch of his cock as it pulsates his load inside of you.

But you were still aching. He slumps over ontop of you, his sweat kissed forehead dropping to your shoulder, as if reading your mind he asks you sweetly, “What do you need?” 

“Suck on my tits.” You rasp out, not needing even a moment to think about it. Your nipples had been screaming for attention this whole time. He grunts a smile into the skin of your shoulder before flipping you over on your back again. Moving out from between your legs he kneels on the ground beside your sprawled out body. He moves his hand swiftly over the top of your dress and yanks it down, your nipples just as puffy and swollen as your pussy. Even though the effects of the flower are wearing off Daryl can’t help but salivate again at the sight. He dips his head down to your chest, licking into your nipple, pushing it around inside his mouth. You lose it. The tight tension in your belly unraveling and twisting itself into every part of you. Your hand shoots down between your legs to play with your clit but Daryl pulls it away and replaces it with his own. 

His warm rough fingers circle your sensitive bundle of nerves so gently, you’re dissolving against his touch. Climbing inside and up the steep hill to the top of your orgasm. His lips still tightly sucking on your breast, one hand between your legs, and the other pulling on your other nipple harshly. Your body feels so ruined, so pulled and prodded apart, destroyed against the force of the flower through the arms of a man. It cascades through your cunt like you’re expecting, but you’ve never felt an orgasm that tore through the nerves in your nipples as well. Like every place he’s attached to you explodes all at once. Screaming into the open air while it rips through your body. Pussy to fingertips to toes and back again, a shaking mess underneath of him. 

Daryl didn’t have time to feel the post-nut shame, not with you to take care of. But you feel it. The prickly grass on your skin like small reminders of the dirty things you’d said, you’d done with him. The way he’d seen your body, the way it reacted to him. 

His voice cuts through, as he’s putting himself away and back into his pants, “Shit, sorry I made ya do all that. It’s the damn flower…” he doesn’t even know how to explain, how to begin to apologize for what he’d just done to you. How he’d violated you. 

“No,” you scramble, blushing, “I liked it. I mean-“ you cough, standing up and dusting yourself off, “I know the flower made me really like it. But, I would have… liked it anyway.” 

Daryl observes you getting awkward and stumbling over your words, it makes him feel less like a super fucking predator. He takes a few big strides to stand close to you again, leaning down and kissing your forehead. He touches his thumb to your lips, “Cuz yer fuckin’ made fer me.” He means it. Your scent, the way you fit around him, the way you took his cock so perfectly. Fuckin’ made for him. 

“Don’chya got somethin’ yer s’possed ta be doin’, girlie?” He tugs on some of your hair before slapping your ass and making his way back to the tents. Leaving you to gather yourself and finishing hanging clothes. Going back to tell everyone the bad news that he didn’t hunt anything today. ‘Cept a pretty girl and her womb.

He left that part out. And no one believed him about the flower when he tried to warn them it was in the woods close by. Just an old Appalachian wives tale. Sure. 

a/n: had this idea swimming for a few days, had a few parts written. Blasted it out in a few hours and I didn’t really proofread it but I feel like this is NO PLOT JUST VIBES.

[comfortless]

got a startling number or requests for this, so here’s a part two for captured mercenary! König x noblewoman! reader..!

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. medieval au, dubious consent, slightly rough smut, abduction.

On the twelfth day, you finally understand how to punish König.

The nightly incidents have grown more frequent, sometimes thrice before the sun rises. Even once when you had caught his eye from across the yard whilst he bathed in the pond. A heavy hand had curled around his manhood with the most obscene words you had ever heard a man speak spilling from his panting mouth.

You merely stared like an innocent fawn in the face of a starved hunter then, but as the day passed a deep sorrow seemed to take root, one that should have been left well enough alone. König is not an animal, but… he is an unwed brute whose very appearance had most of the servant girls running for their quarters with their hands shoved protectively into the laps of their skirts.

He’s lonely. You had reasoned that must be why he’s so hellbent on torturing you to tears, to harass you with that leaking, throbbing pillar between his thighs. His insults have come to a stop. The man you took in for a pouch of copper is more of a pity than a terror at all.

With the sleepless nights beginning to weigh down on you, puppeting yourself day by day grows to be the most awful task. He’s always lurking close: it’s what he’s here for. König’s eyes never stray from you.

It’s getting to him, too.

The midwife, of course, shyly told you that a lady of your status should hold fast to her maidenhood until the eve of her wedding. But… once the dutiful words had been spilled, she immediately followed them with laughter, explaining that some men just needed to be subjugated, hinting that that was possibly the solution to what has you so downtrodden.

You couldn’t help yourself, not when he glanced up at you in the midst of training, his sightless mimicry of an opponent made up of wood already felled and settled into the dust at his feet. You could always feign your innocence, accuse him of imagining things should he say a word. Though, you’re guilty, just as guilty as him as you reveal your body to him where you sat perched upon the window sill.

The fluttering, innocent fabric of your gown is pulled from your shoulders and pushed down your hips to pool upon the floor. The laces of your corset are hastily untied to follow down. The underdress is all but torn away when you notice the way he halts in place, jaw tightening and eyes going wide.

Like the most malevolent of nymphs, you don’t offer him a taste when he comes storming into the castle chasing that glint of hope. You wind yourself through the halls, fully clothed as he huffs and growls just beyond your shoulder of how it is cruel and dangerous to tease a man.

Something about the way he boasts of doing so much for you to receive so little in turn conjures laughter from your throat. It is not often you’re able to treat a man this way, and even less often have you learned a thing about war, but you’ve certainly turned the tables in this ridiculous battle.

Those warnings of his fall entirely on deaf ears.

Then comes the night you no longer sense him positioned beyond your door. You sleep uninterrupted and warm, safely tucked between layers of cloth and down. The comfort of not being stirred awake by clamoring and grunting jolts you up with worry, because by this time it’s unnatural.

The peace of the night is heavy; the castle is entirely silent, no heavy soles meeting stone floors or hushed voices whispering secrets. There are crickets chirping beyond your window where a cool breeze drifts in to flutter curtains, but not a sound otherwise.

You push past your own apprehension to try the door, to seek him out with your innocent fretting, only to find that past that wooden barrier no one is stood guard.

A torch is lit and stationed upon the wall in König’s place, and the looming darkness further down the blackened hall feels so inexplicably ominous that your courage is diminished the second you place you find your footing over the threshold of the door and step out to have it envelope you in full.

König is not the only thing that would swallow you whole if you allowed it.

The realization dawns on you with each fragile step upon cool stone. He’s left you to fend for yourself, likely run off to have his fill of brothel girls and find a new band to strike you and any other pompous noble down. Your castle and your servants would all be ash come the dawn if he so chose… but it isn’t that thought that fills your heart with dread whilst you make your way out of these silent walls.

There’s a clamor coming from the stables when night air brushes over your face, the breeze pushing your hair into your eyes. You’ve heard the sound many a times when one is preparing to ride, the gathering of a saddle whilst the horses press their hooves to earth and watch on in preparation. There are no chores to be done elsewhere, and no servant would be given permission to leave the safety of the walls this late into the night.

König is leaving, abandoning you and his duties.

That’s what bothers you more than the thought of some awful demise.

You can’t place why it even matters. He’s been nothing short of a terror since the day he stepped foot in this place. He doesn’t bring your heart any soothing, only leaves it in wreckage and strikes up a wetness between your thighs. The man is not special, only cruel and ugly, sharp and bloodied like the swords he looks upon with far more passion than he’s ever given to you. Yet, the thought of being without him is haunting.

The walk across the yard feels as though it takes an age. You refuse to cry before him again, have those callused fingers wipe away your tears, but the scowl you force is only as daunting as the look of a forlorn puppy. You can’t find it within you to hate him, even when you try in earnest.

Your hand grasps at the wall of the stable as you peer inside to find the very scene from your imaginings. A horse is readied with as many supplies as it can carry, sacks of what you assume to be stolen food and weaponry hastily fastened to its sides. König is there, of course, shushing the animal with feed as the gate shuts behind him.

He would wait it out here until the night deepens and there would be no chance of anyone coming to stop him, all others preoccupied with their dreaming. As much as you would have preferred to find the sense to return to your own mattress and wait for the sun, your steps lead you inside instead. To him.

“What are you doing?” Your hiss is meek, hushed, and you know you sound more the part of a scorned wife than any authority at all. Your eyes don’t even meet his, cast down to the loose hay at your feet blanketing the dirt floor.

The man only sounds elated at the sight of you, at the idea of being caught amidst his further wicked behavior as he explains to you exactly what you already know. He does not shy away from approaching you, either. You only realize then you’re still dressed for bed without a weapon, just this loose, white gown and a betrayed stare. You’re no threat to someone like this, if anyone at all.

“You want me to stay?,” he hisses right back, taking liberty over your state to draw a hand up to your face, tilt your chin up so your eyes do finally meet his. The sadness remains in his eyes, deeper than you could even fathom, but accompanying it now is a crying madness.

Subjugate, you remind yourself when your lips press to a line. You could play the part of someone braver, bring him to his knees with words and promises up until morning where he would assuredly receive a good lashing.

The hand on your chin crawls down to your neck, thumb petting your pulse with even strokes.

“You can make me,” he continues through your bitter silence. The smirk upon his face is not charming, only cruel again; likely the same look he would give to the void each time he has heard you unravel at the mere thought of him.

You separate yourself from him with a wounded glare, barely keeping yourself together at the thought of finally allowing this brute to unite with your being in such a way. The reasonings as to why you should not are a blur now, reeled back by a more demanding series of thoughts. A secret you could keep, just as long as…

“You really will? If I allow you to…”

“Ja,” König answers simply, gives you a firm nod as to further express his answer. The truth of it was, he finds you dumb. After many months being here, you’ve picked up on a few words of his mother tongue and still he seems to think of you as a simple woman. “Zeig mir deine pflaume.”

You think you may even look the part of some naïve, overly trusting creature when your gown falls to your ankles to rest of the hay covered floor.

The man does not kiss you, only weighs your breasts in his hands, squishes them and paws at their plushness until his breathing grows heavy. He’s grown hard beneath his tunic already, without so much as a moan or a touch from you, but with his eyes locked onto what lies between your trembling legs and the flesh in his hands you almost feel a swell of pride.

His face dips to press into your chest, an eager tongue snaking out to wet you… everywhere. Perhaps he isn’t the most experienced with women, perhaps he’s only sampled what the brothels had to offer.

There’s no care for your pleasure here, only a tentative exchange made clear by the way he gropes at you with such force and tugs your nipple between his teeth as shallow pants and low whimpers leave your parted lips. The bites grow in intensity until you bring your hands to his scarred face to shove him away, only then does he relent back to feverish licks.

A hand trails down to your hip, all too eager in its exploration. There’s no warning when he tests your willingness, pets at your cunt like a well-loved pet. And damn it all — you are wet, as much as you would like to be frigid and resentful here, your body sings for him with soft whines instead of birdsong and dew over the petals of your own flower. He hums appreciatively while suckling at your tit, pushes a finger into your slit so suddenly your body jolts forward to grasp at his shoulders for purchase.

“Not here…” You try to reason with him. There are beds in the castle and walls so thick not a soul would hear. You didn’t need to be fucked in a stable like a breeding mare, it’s unbecoming for both of you.

Not that König even had the sense to listen. You’ve placed a hearty offering at the altar of a starved god, and he would be a fool to allow room to have it snatched away.

The response he gives you is not in words. It’s with a sudden spin that leaves you grasping at the gate of an empty stall, your back to him. You’ve never felt quite so vulnerable, never so horribly heartbroken when this beast chooses to take you from behind instead of nice and slow, in a bed that smells of lavender and incense.

There’s a soft rustling as he pulls his cock free from his garments, his head pressed to where your shoulder and neck join where he whispers what you imagine to be pure filth in his mother tongue, takes in your scent with panting breaths. The fat tip of his cock is diligently rubbed against you in hasty strokes, gathering your wetness until you feel yourself beginning to quiver.

Any chance to turn back is ripped out of your grasp the second he loses patience and begins to feed your drooling cunt each girthy inch. The hands that directed your face with most of your interactions are now cinched firmly against your waist. The sounds that leave him now are unlike any you’ve heard prior; a hand as hard and rough as his could never quite feel the same as what you’ve blessed him with.

“You feel…” He halts momentarily when he’s stuffed himself into you entirely, listening to each soft sound that’s pulled from your lips as you shake around him, for him. He doesn’t need to speak, really… you feel it too, the immediate heat and immaculate bliss of being joined in such a way. You’ve seen that horrid, thick thing countless times but to imagine it would feel so heavenly inside…

“Fick mich… so tight…”

His fucking becomes rampant when you cast him a look over your shoulder, one of utter rapture. Any patience he feigned is lost, because his cock spears you open again and again at a pace that jolts you in place and has your nails splintering the wood in your grasp. The teeth that pulled and bit at your nipples sink into your shoulder to keep those foul words contained, but does little to stifle the desperate groans and keening whines. The sounds of impact join him, filling up the shush of the night air.

Though you try to keep yourself contained, when a hand rises to squeeze at your breast and pinch your nipple between two coarse digits, any hope of biting your tongue is snuffed out. The sounds of your pleasure only add to his derangement; his thrusts become almost unbearable as he fills you with the length of his cock, pulls out to where his tip snags at your entrance only to fully bury himself again in quick repetition.

You don’t even come before he grows sloppy. Each stroke comes less intent, shifting from too fast or far too slow. It’s maddening, the way he sinks in to press his balls to your clit, already drenched in your essence, like a proper lover only to pump you like a common whore following.

He announces his impending orgasm to you in a grunt before sinking his teeth into your neck. Your hand detaches from the gate to slip between your thighs where König immediately grips your wrist as directs each movement as you circle your clit. There’s no tact or beauty here. He forces you to set a rough pace, desperate to feel you squeeze around his cock before he fucks his seed into you; the brute grows impatient and bats your hand away entirely as he pinches and flicks at the nub until you sob, because as torturous as it is, it works.

You’re brought to an abrupt end, eyes squeezed shut and jaw tightening as your hips jolt to meet his palm and your cunt pulls him in to pulse. He laps languidly at your neck while he gives you only a few stilted thrusts before the entire affair comes to an end. König doesn’t have near enough sense to keep himself contained, how no curious servant was pried from their bed by the pleasured bellow he lets out then is remarkable.

The man who fucks his palm near thrice a day still manages to fill your cunt to bursting with his seed. It slips down your thigh when he pulls away from you, tugs at your cheek to take in the view with a satisfied grunt that makes you want to recoil from him in a fit of misery. Maybe even love, because you find yourself so regrettably content now that you wouldn’t even mind sleeping in this sour smelling stable if only he would keep an arm around you…

König’s thoughts are elsewhere. He adjusts himself back into his clothes and pulls your gown from the floor to present it back to you. There’s no romance, only a subtle hint of something more than disinterest when he flashes you an almost boyish grin while you straighten yourself out as best you can.

A warm bath followed by a pillow beneath your head would be nice, but instead this romp blesses you with more dread.

The horse König had so diligently prepared is led out of its stall, and you… You’re hardly given a moment to react before you’re seated on the saddle by a pair of thick arms, the owner of which follows suit while you shoot him an uneasy glance. The question of where he’s taking you is only met with a palm curled over your mouth and an affectionate peck to your temple. You’ve no intention of being thrown off a horse or further tempting fate, even if it seems the easier route than whatever this proves to be.

“My lady wants to stay with me..,” he purrs as the reins are forced into your hands. That same hand slips down to push up your gown again and pivot your ass to rest over his crotch. “So she will come with me, hm?”

The cock finds its way inside of you again as the horse takes quiet, metered steps. Your eyes grow wet with tears unshed, and your protestations are muffled by that grip over the lower half of your face. König seems almost sympathetic even with the transparency of his renewed arousal throbbing inside of you; his hand falls free from your mouth as the horse carries you both past the threshold of the gate, replaced instead by a kiss both fiery and soothing.

You sulk and demand he return you home, to the safety of that stone nest, only to be shushed each time by a sweet press of his mouth to yours, your cheek when you will yourself to turn away. His free hand pets at your side, your breast, any where he can touch to calm your trembling. It doesn’t help… much, but your heart does seem to soften amidst the confusion and bereavement.

“I will take you home,” he mutters as he toys with your clit again, beckoning you to grind back against him. Your head lolls back again his shoulder, dazed and shaky from both his touch and his horrible deceit.

Home. Back to whatever pit of sulfur and grime he came from to drag you back down into it with him.

“… I’ll take care of you, little dove.”

It’s a shame this gentle side of him only decided upon showing its face when the roles reversed in his favor. Prisoner or wife, you meld against him wholly, sigh your pleasure as he whisks you away.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

You know what really gets me about ATSV

ATSV: How to do a face reveal right

[A SHORT essay on why I think Miguel and Hobie are Hot On Purpose.]

Jessica's face is completely uncovered. Ben's face is shown right away. Pavitr appears in his mask but immediately shows his face in his own intro. Margo is always unmasked too.

CMIIW but: Miguel and Hobie are the only new characters whose faces were hidden until WAY after their first lines.

You mean to tell me, two of the finest characters in the movie. The characters who look like THIS

Are shown first as this:

- for a reason!! The writers knew what they were doing 😭

They - knowing the two would receive the most fan attention - deliberately delayed their face reveals simply for the sake of the drama.

When we first meet Miguel - it's as Spider-man

He's playing the cool, cold, heroic leader (despite Gwen's teasing). We come close to seeing his face, but like him, we stop short.

They give us a taste of Miguel before we actually meet him, or see his face and full design.

The opening scenes of ATSV leaves us holding our breath.

The end of ITSV sets Miguel up to a big problem in ATSV, but he's abscent for the majority of the movie, working behind the scenes.

We spend the majority of the movie holding our breath, knowing that eventually Miles will have to meet him, we'll have to meet him, and it leaves the viewer even more excited - or anxious - for Miguel.

When we meet Hobie - it's as Spider-Punk

Just the same as Miguel, we're given a HUGE dose of Hobie before he even hits the screen.

Hobie is the talk of the town. Miles has an imagined problem with him - so we have a problem with him: We don't know who he is!

ATSV sets us up for Hobie. We know we'll meet him, but unlike Miguel - as so very in character for Hobie - we don't know where, or when, or how.

Even after his first appearance - he kicks it up a notch.

And although he could've remained masked for the entirety of his intro, instead - the animators choose to have fun with it.

They highlight the fact. Hobie outright taunts the viewer; He KNOWS you want to see his face. Sure, he'll demask himself - but he doesn't give you the satisfaction.

But Hobies face is an intentional mystery. He wants to keep you guessing, revealing in the anticipation.

He's already told you his name - but it's his character design that we're left dying for.

I know as soon as they got in the elevator I was like 👀 - he not gonna keep that mask on right. cause I know he fine

I find it so funny that the two characters that are thirsted after on the highest level are the only ones that reveal their faces in later scenes.

Like even when they walk into Miguels lair

Like bro what the fuck are you posing for? Dramatic effect 😐

It goes to show that writers genuinely know who will be fan-favorites.

The ATSV design and animation team made a ridiculous amount of content for Hobie - going so far as to design his house, and make detailed imagery of his world.

They knew it'd never be included in ATSV. But they didn't care.

They made it anyway cause they knew people would want more of him. They knew that either in BTSV - or a solo entry of his own - people would really like Hobie, and really want to know more about him.

The knew that people would go NUTS over Miguel's redesign - because it's such a stark difference and upgrade from his teaser seen in ITSV.

In the beginning of ATSV, the design changes aren't that apparent. But as ATSV goes on, and we see Miguel's behavior, we immediately understand why they chose to make Miguel SO MUCH LARGER than what they were planning in ITSV.

They knew that you'd hear Oscar Issac's voice and it'd be a wrap. The way he looks is just ICING on the cake. They don't need to show you Miguel right away, they're going to make you thirst the whole movie before you actually get to see him.

They knew you'd see Hobie kick through that force field and be shook over him.

Gwen and Pavitr yell out 'Hobie!' when he arrives - because that's what we're all screaming in our heads.

'Oh shit - he's HERE.'

His face reveal is just the final nail in the coffin of 'yeah, im down bad for this dude. it's a wrap.'

I just LOVE IT i LOVE IT it SO CLEVER

the writers being like 'nah make them thirsty hoes wait'. Im watching Mumbattan fall apart in front of my very eyes and I'm still like... 'So about that Hobie bloke.... what's his deal'

We are all so predictable. They're laughing at us. They made Miguel dummy thicc because they knew. They just knew.

[finishwhatyoustarted-event]

Finish What You Started 2024 - Event Rules

[ID copied from alt: Event Rules on a blue background. ⬒ No new projects ◨ Any medium and any fandom welcome ⬓ NSFW inclusive, warnings must be tagged ◧ Tag #FinishWhatYouStarted2024; boosting/retweeting starts September 13th ◼ Event ends October 31st, 2024]

The goal of this event is to get things done that you’ve already started. We all have unfinished projects whose incomplete status haunts us. Those are what we want to tackle!

The structure is loose, as this is a multimedia event. While primarily aimed at writers, this event is open to any kind of creative fanwork. Fics, translations, podfics, fanart, animations, cosplay - if you started it and never got it done, it qualifies. There is no sign-up required. I will not assign beta readers for writers, but I can boost requests for those who want them! And I can boost messages of those who would like to beta read.

The mod is a danmei fan mainly, but your work can be any fandom. Maybe something you started before your current fandom excitement took over, or one you keep putting off in favor of compelling new ideas.

Feel free to pass this event info along! The more the merrier!

Further rules and clarifications:

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This account will post weekly morale-boosting messages and helpful resources. Every Friday, starting September 13th, will be Finished It Friday. All the completed works posted that week will be boosted together in a big thread, so we can celebrate your accomplishment!

Halfway-point check-in is October 1st. Final event deadline is October 31st. The last Finished It Friday is November 1st.

FAQ:

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A: This is primarily a fanwork-focused event. If original work is the only WIP you have to work on, it's certainly fine to work on it during the time frame of the event. If it is posted publicly when finished, you may tag it for boosting.

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[strangebiology]

I think a lot of the people in my life who have expressed disgust or disapproval of my interest in/collection of animal remains have come at it first from the perspective of "but diseases!" like regular uncleanliness stigma. the second most common reaction is that interest in/collection of/comfort with animal remains (to be clear, i collect bones and sometimes preserved tails or pelts and these are the objects in question) is... creepy? and, the people who are most disgusted/creeped out are usually people who by and large dont interact with wild animals or livestock. my friends who are vet techs or who hunt or who practice animal husbandry are more or less unfazed.

(Re: What are actual common attitudes towards animal remains?)

Interesting, thank you!

Now, I'm wondering if people mistake personal discomfort for immorality.

I've mentioned my one video that did get some negative comments, showing the slaughter of a reindeer (you can see it here but I have warnings on it for a reason! Blood and death!) And, I think 90% or so (I suppose I could go count them) are more reasonable.

First, people are mad at the assumption that I killed a reindeer (I did NOT kill it, I just filmed it.) Then, the issue is it's being killed for no reason (it was NOT no reason, it's for food.) Then the method is criticized (this is one of the ONLY legal ways to kill them and it's quicker than it looks because of post-mortem spasms.) Then, when those concerns are disproven, the only issue left is "filming and posting it is sadistic." So...killing was no problem, but showing anyone that their meat came from a death was a problem. (Again, I respect if you don't want to see it! So please heed the warnings unless your desire to know how reindeer are killed outweighs your discomfort with watching a death!)

I wonder if sometimes people are overly focused on prioritizing their own 5-second comfort over things that matter a lot more, but are external to them, and they don't really care about others who they are not currently looking in the face of at all.

This isn't a 100% relevant example, but consider the people who don't want to donate their organs after death. A common reason to forgo something that could save and improve lots of lives is "it sounds gross!" Ickiness really should not be a factor in whether or not to save lives--the donor will never see or feel it, but since it's not their own life being saved, the 5-second icky feeling when checking the "donor" box is suddenly more important than the saved and improved human lives.

I know I shouldn't think too hard about one random experience, but I will always remember this one. I was once at a consumer survey thing for a turkey meat brand, where participants tried the meat and said what we thought about the name, taste, packaging, branding etc. We were instructed to circle what we liked on the branding and cross out what we didn't like.

One participant crossed out the part where it said "humanely raised." I asked if she had made a mistake, or...does she feel like the label is disingenuous or something...? Surely she's pro-humane treatment of animals, right??

"No," she said. "I don't want them to do that. I don't want to think about their lives when I'm eating them, and they don't need to be humane to animals that are going to die anyway." Most of the group agreed. I couldn't help but point and say "YOU'RE gonna die anyway!"

That may have been the first time I encountered a group of people shamelessly agreeing that they would rather animals suffer unnecessarily than think for one second that the animal whose body they are using/eating was ever even alive. Because not feeling guilty about something was infinitely more important to them than any amount of suffering that someone else might experience.

[golden-afternoon]

wahhh happy birthday Xiao!!! I wanted to finish writing this which I had sitting in my wips for a while now for his birthday but got really sad when I realized I wouldn't be able to get it done in time. Therefore the ending is suuuuper rushed and the whole thing is a little jank but I wanted to post it still even if it's not perfect. May revisit this later to fix it up a little!

Warnings - gn! reader, Xiao dealing with Xiao thoughts in his not exactly healthy ways, blowjobs n face fucking my favorites 😋, wet dreams, aaand I think that covers it?

Bitter.

Bitter was the taste usually lingering in his mouth. Bitter words waiting behind his lips, bitter bile at the back of his throat at best forgotten memories, bitter disdain as he swallows back his useless desires. The unpleasant flavor remains on his tongue most of the time, having come to accept it was simply another burden of his to bear.

How rare then was such a taste of sweetness?

Xiao swallowed thickly, almost on instinct to get rid of the unfamiliar sweet flavor that had begun to spread across his tongue, flooding his senses. His mouth felt incredibly dry and the action had done little to nothing to sate the urge to remove the offending taste.

So, so sweet.

It was so unbearably sweet, he wasn’t sure he could stand it.

So sweet was the sight before him, he could hardly wrap his head around it. The sight of you. You, there before him gazing up with those sweet, precious eyes of yours. You, so sweetly kneeling before him as though it were the most natural position in the world to be in. You, whose fingers delicately had been tracing along the hem of his pants, gently tugging at the silks that lie around his hips to set the fabric loose.

“What are you doing?”

The words left him, coming out in a low, biting tone, bitterness falling from his tongue with practiced ease. Yet, he made no effort to move away. He, the Vigilant Yaksha, the Conqueror of Demons, the great Alatus, was frozen in place like an animal caught by surprise in a field. His brows furrowed together he stared down at you, both trying to piece together the meaning of your behavior and why he had not moved yet. His heart was beating hard enough in his chest that he could hear the blood rushing around his ears in time with each beat.

Yet even with the sharpness of his words, you remained unfazed, simply smiling up at him with such tenderness, unaware that such a gaze made that sweet flavor flood across his tongue again, much to his growing unease. “You may try to lie to yourself Xiao, but it's clear as day to me that you need to spend some time relaxing.”

Even your voice was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted. It made his stomach churn. No, not churn. That's not the right word. It was a lighter sensation than that. Almost… pleasant, even as it made him almost feel sick. A feeling slowly becoming more and more familiar to him the more time he had spent around you.

The adeptus was ripped from his hazy reverie as the gentle clink of metal hit the floor, followed almost immediately by those nimble fingers brushing against his hips as they gently began to pull down the last bit of fabric separating his shame from your eyes. His hands twitched with the impulse to shove you away, bitter guilt bordering on panic rising in his throat, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He swallowed again, his mouth just as dry as before as his golden eyes sharply watched every movement you made.

“What are you doing to me?” He asked, his normally cool and indifferent tone sinking into a slightly uneven rasp, shamefully hinting at how much you were affecting him.

Xiao felt heat wash over his face as a sweet laugh left your lips, leaving his question unanswered in favor of lowering the dark fabric further and further until his aching cock sprung free of its confines. A gloved hand instinctively lifted to his mouth to suppress the noise that came from him at the feeling, and even worse, the sight of your eyes being locked onto his already achingly hard shaft with such keen interest and fascination. If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve been certain you were trying to kill him, what with how his heart was beating so hard it felt like it could burst at any moment. He ripped his eyes away from the painfully sweet sight, that strange flavor spreading across his tongue once more as saliva pooled in his mouth.

This was wrong. This shouldn’t be happening. He shouldn’t be allowing this in the first place! If he allowed you to do this, then all it would serve to do was hurt you in the end, he had no right to be so selfish-

A hitching gasp was ripped from his chest as he felt the softest sensation brush against the head of his cock. Sharp eyes immediately came right back to look down at you, his pupils dilating as he sees you with your lips still pressed to the tender, flushed skin in such a gentle little kiss. His dick twitched from the sweet sight, the motion making his sensitive skin lift away from those soft lips, giving him a brief moment of reprieve before it rested back into place, tapping against your mouth and effectively smearing a bit of the liquid leaking from him on those pretty lips, giving him such a shamefully lewd view that it drew a groan from him, unable to be muffled by his gloved hand.

Seeming to be encouraged by his reaction, he watched as your lips parted, that pretty pink tongue sliding out to lick up the mess he had left behind. A growled curse left him as he felt the sinful desires he’d been fending off came crashing in on him, nearly making his knees buckle under the weight of it. A soft hum of pleasure left your lips, seemingly enjoying his no doubt bitter taste. Surely that was just for show, he immediately assumed, slowly lowering his hand from his blushing face, only to instantaneously be proven wrong by your hands sliding onto his thighs for support as you leaned closer, drawing your warm tongue along his part of his length, lingering at the top to collect the rest of the clear fluid that had leaked out.

His restraint was wearing thin as the hand that had just been on his face now found itself settled on the back of your head, his gloved fingers curling loosely into your hair. Xiao remained silent for a moment, his face caught in a strained expression as he looked down at you, his golden eyes studying you with an intensity that he has found himself unable to hide any longer.

Your name left his lips quietly, the rasp of his voice barely audible above the steady rain coming down outside the open window. He began to card his fingers through your hair before managing his next words. “Do you really want to do this? If you keep going as you are, I may not be able to stop myself.” He warned in that same tone, wishing he had been able to speak louder, but he knew that if he had, it would have only made his voice waver.

Those sweet eyes stayed locked onto his as you processed the question, answering him with a smile and a playful little kiss to his head once more. “Then don’t stop yourself.”

Before he could have much time to comprehend those words, Xiao found himself curling his fingers into your hair with a grunt, nearly becoming winded from the feeling of his cock slowly be enveloped into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. Its not the first time in his long existence that he has experienced such intimate pleasures, but certainly it had been a very, very long time since he had even considered indulging himself in things like this. He’d spent so much of his time convincing himself he held no such desires, but here you were breaking down every wall he’d built with such ease.

Another growling curse left him as he felt his tip hit the back of your mouth, having brought a muffled little gagging noise to his ears. He shivered as the reflex simply made your throat tighten for a moment around the portion of him that had pressed towards your throat. That was enough to make him crack.

He adjusted his hold on your hair, curling his fingers in to maintain a firm, almost painful grip before he began to move, teeth sinking into his lip as he began to shift his hips. Vibrations from the sweet little yelp of surprise ran through his cock, only fueling him further in his aching need. Holding your head in place he couldn’t stop himself from dragging himself in and out along your tongue. Archons, you felt perfect. You let your jaw slack slightly to keep yourself from scraping your teeth along his shaft, encouraging him even more. His other hand, trembling slightly from it all, lifted to your flushed face, gently brushing aside and tucking away some loose hair that had fallen across your forehead, his pace never slowing down as those fingers join his other hand in holding you in place so he can keep you steady.

It was no longer a question of desire for him. He needed you. He needed you now more than ever and he had reached a point where he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He began to push deeper, nudging his dripping head against the back of your mouth again, trying to gain purchase into your throat, but you couldn’t help but gag on his size. He frowned slightly, his eyes locked onto your dazed expression, lips sealed around as much of him as you thought you could take. A quiet grunt, followed by his lowered voice offering soothing words in the best way he could think to. “You can take it. Come on.”

Not the most reassuring thing to say, especially when this was immediately followed by his hands manually adjusting the angle of your head and simply shoving his shaft against your throat again, causing tears to well in those pretty eyes of yours as you gag on it again. Bitter guilt climbs the back of his own throat at the sight, but then he realized that you weren’t backing away at all. If anything, it seemed like you were trying to reach the same goal. Hands on his thighs to steady yourself, lips staying perfectly wrapped around his size, and even more, you kept trying to press closer, clearly seeing what he wanted and trying desperately to help him get there.

He breathed out another curse, the word faltering slightly as it rasped out, his hands grasping harder onto your head as he picked up his pace, thrusting harder and harder, fucking into your face until with one slick motion, he pushed past at last, your muscles loosening enough to allow himself to bury himself deep within your throat. Your nose pressed against his skin as he held you there for a moment, savoring the sweet feeling of you taking him in his entirety.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, the sound coming out like a hiss through bared teeth. This… this isn't right. So tight and slick around him, this amount of pleasure shouldn't be granted to someone like him. For a moment, even in his daze of pleasure, Xiao seriously considered pulling out, having become overwhelmed by it all, but then, he saw your eyes. Those pretty eyes that have haunted him far more than he cared to admit were now looking up at him in a way that made his heart nearly stop. Such a soft, overwhelmingly sweet gaze up at him through those long lashes of yours contrasted to the sinful sight of your nose bumping against his body, lips stretched around his aching length. All other thoughts immediately left his mind as he stared down at you with lips parted in awe. He may not deserve even a scrap of this amount of pleasure, but who was he to deny you whose eyes looked so positively needy. Gritting his teeth, he curled his fingers more into your hair, drawing a whine of slight pain from you, the sound almost entirely disappearing into his cock as he began to move again, fully intending to be slow and sweet, but perhaps rough desperation was just better suited to his natural bitter nature.

Gloved hands holding you in place he picked up speed, the slick sounds of your mouth and throat being used mingled with the sound of the rain, all of it rushing around to his ears and making his mind melt even more. Archons, he's not even sure how much longer he can last like this. He can see on your face that you're struggling to keep holding your breath but you keep letting him going, not pushing away in the slightest. The feeling of your thumbs lightly digging into his skin as you clung to him for support was nearly enough to send him over the edge.

He nearly growled out his words, wanting to at least warn you, “I think…. ah…. I think I'm at my limit…”

Xiao watched as those long lashes fluttered shut at his words, that sweet gaze disappearing in favor of close eyed focus and fervor, seeming to struggle to do your best to keep going, to hold on as long as you can to bring him over the edge. It drove him insane.

“Xiao!”

He was so lost in the sweet sensation, so close to the edge, he almost didn't hear the voice over the sound of the rain and the slick noises from below and-

“Adeptus Xiao!”

Xiao bolted upright in an instant, panting from the adrenaline as he struggled to gain his bearings, the sound of his blood rushing around his ears mingling with the gentle rain outside making his head spin.

He was… alone. And now rather uncomfortable in the sticky aftermath. Bitter guilt spread across his tongue and gripped at his heart, shaking hands reaching up to grab fistfuls of his own hair in frustration. How could he even think about you like that? Sure he was unconscious but he had absolutely no right to defile your sweet visage with something so selfish and wrong. He had no need for such desires. None whatsoever.

But he could hardly even convince himself of that when he realized it was your voice calling his name from the other side of his door, making him wonder with an ache deep in his chest if this was that bittersweet dream manifesting itself before him.

[sadistic-kiss]

Use Me (Kinktober)

Succubus Reader x VariousJJKMen

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Five.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

Everyone got their shot glasses, filling them up with liquor.

 

You had crawled to them but Getou flicked his fingers, “You can stand for this one darling.”

 

You stood with a huff, attitude still very much there and alive. You watch the cups get passed around, but you shake your head, “I can’t drink alcohol, it doesn’t work the same for me.”

 

“We know.” Sukuna grinned, “Just wait.”

 

So you waited, with your arms crossed. Some of them tried to talk to you but you gave them the silent treatment. For whatever reason that only made them want to tease you more. Giving you light touches and barely a squeeze.

 

Choso and Gojo returned about the same time, and that seemed to be what you were waiting for.

 

“Ah~!” Gojo gasped as if appalled by Choso’s costume, “you picked Viking, why didn’t you pick our team!?”

 

“Yeaaaah! Viking!” Toji, Sukuna, and Yu cheered, rooting in the air like some rowdy animals, while Nanami, Getou, and Gojo looked disappointed.

 

Choso shrugged, “This seemed to fit me better.” He spoke through the chaos.

 

Gojo rolled his eyes, “Whatever loser.”

 

After the commotion died down, Gojo and Choso were handed their drinks but you still hadn’t received one. You wondered if you were going to just go through the motions.

 

“Here’s yours…” Toji gestured to Nanami who was grabbing something from the fridge.

 

When the blonde turned back around he held a cup with a cap. He twisted the blue top off and then set it down in front of you so you could see the white liquid inside.

 

Your eyes lit up as the smell touched your nose. It smelt like the most delectable treat. Your body moved on its own as you reached for the cup but Getou grabbed your elbow, so you reached for it with the other only for Choso to stop you.

 

“Not yet pet.”

 

They all seemed to snicker at your feeble attempt to down your drink.

 

You let out a little whine, resting your arms back down. They were so much faster than you. When you were this deprived you were as weak as a human. Their movement much too quick, to the point it seems they blink or teleport.

 

“She’s practically drooling.”

 

“I know she’s so cute.”

 

Just wait. Wait until I get enough energy.

You were glaring at your cup, but then you heard chuckling bringing you out of your deep thought. You blinked up to see everyone was staring at you. You didn’t hear a word they said.

 

Sukuna snorted, “Did you hear us slut?”

 

Nope .

 

“Can you repeat… what you said?”

 

Gojo was the one who repeated the words, “We want you to guess whose cum it is. Get it right and we will let you drink it.”

 

“Is it one of yours?” you questioned.

 

“Yup. So you got a one out of seven chance of being right.”

 

That's all you need, the task will be easy now that you know that they aren't trying to pull a fast one. You lift the cup to get a good smell of it. The aroma made you swallow eagerly. You could see how Getou was eyeing you, ready to snatch the drink from you if you dared to disobey them.

 

The substance had an overwhelming smell to it, you couldn't quite pin what you were sensing. It was sweet, yet tangy among other things. You furrowed your brows not knowing who the mixture belonged to. You thought this would have been easy for you since you knew what the men taste like. This had to be someone else but they wouldn't lie to you. That wasn't the type of game they liked to play.

 

“Can I at least taste it?”

 

The guys looked around contemplating if you should be graced with such a benefit.

 

Yu was the one to come to your aid, “Just give her a bit.”

 

“Don't let her drink it she'll down it all.” Sukuna threw open a drawer and dug out a spoon. “Here.” he tossed it across the counter as Choso grabbed it.

 

“Wait I want to do it!” Gojo came over but Choso shook his head.

 

“I got it.” he said, making Gojo pout. He dipped the spoon in the cup and then offered it to you.

 

You slipped the spoon in your mouth humming as the flavour coated your tongue. It was absolutely delicious. As the spoon pulled back you chased after it but Getou grabbed your hair.

 

“Settle pet.” he chuckled as he released you.

 

You heard a few of your audience groan and someone whispered they loved how greedy you were.

 

You ignored all of that as you thought of the many different flavors that you had tried. Licking your lips you looked up with a confident smile, “It’s all of yours.”

 

They burst into surprised laughter.

 

Toji whistled, “Damn.”

 

“She got it.”

 

“I told you she would, she’s a little cum slut.”

 

“I knew we shouldn't have given her a taste! That was too easy!”

 

You felt victorious as everyone held up their cup, ready to commence a toast. The glasses clinked and then you were throwing your drink back like your life depended on it, gulping every last bit down. Your stomach began to burn delightfully with your mark, the ink curling around seductively upon your skin.

 

“Woah!” Sukuna pointed out angrily, “That is way more than she should have who fed her?!” your tattoo should not have been so drawn out already.

 

Everyone looked toward Toji.

 

“I gave her a little bit you should ask him.” The bigger man tried to defend himself by deflecting on Haibara.

 

“Me?” Yu gasped in shock.

 

“She was in the bathroom with him and hid her under the sink!”

 

“I fucking knew it!”

 

They all began to yell at each other as you made sure you scooped out the last bit of your drink with the forgotten spoon.

 

~

 

The party continued…more people began to fill the house and it got louder. The lights were turned off as colorful ones flickered on.

 

All the while you were dragged around like an obedient pet. They couldn't wait to introduce you to all their friends. Well, mainly Gojo, Sukuna, and Getou. The others had migrated off as the three treated you like some prize possession that needed to be broadcast to the whole world. Their personal little kitten. They even smacked a pair of cat ears on you. They were having a ball showing you off. Was this their attempt to see how far you would degrade yourself? Or perhaps it was to flaunt their pet in front of a group of people because what kind of normal person would degrade themselves like this?

 

“This is our pet.” Gojo boasted to a new group of people. Sometimes the people would look at you in shock or even start laughing.

 

This particular group dressed up as superheroes did both.

 

“Yo what kind of kinky shit is this?” one of the men chuckled.

 

You were on your knees with your head leaned against Getou’s leg. He was petting your hair while you zoned out.

 

“She does anything we want…” Sukuna got down as he reached out his hand. “Shake.” You gave him your hand as everyone began to cheer. “Roll over.” you proceeded to do so and every other trick while your audience clapped. You wondered who had more of a problem within this house. “Good girl.” Sukuna kissed you smack on your lips as he stood up with a shit-eating grin. “See?”

 

Your lips tingled for more, and you purred as Getou gave you a praise kiss on your forehead. If this was all you had to do for their rewards then this was far too easy.

 

One of the girls shook their head in bewilderment, “That’s fucking crazy. How much are you paying her?”

 

“Nothing, she likes it.” Sukuna grabbed your chin, “Don’t you? You like being our pet?”

 

You knew he was getting off on this ( power-hungry freak ) so you played into that. You were technically allowed to answer questions but you did him one better. You began to lick and nuzzle his hand while purring. Gazing up at him with your best fuck me eyes. You wondered if you should pry at his mind but the last time that happened you failed.

 

Sukuna bit his lip, releasing a low groan. It would appear this was already doing wonders.

 

Most people showed disgust but then that was morphed into envy and jealousy. Curiosity even.

 

Someone stepped forward, “Can I pet her?”

 

“No.” Gojo snipped rather quickly.

 

Getou chuckled, “He’s a bit possessive of our kitten, but what can I say we all are. She’s just too precious.”

 

As the group murmured about you, a more than devious plan came to to you. Why use your power on them when you could use it on the crowd? You shift your eyes to the sea of faces as you tickle their inquisitive minds, feeding them with more ideas. You truly didn't need to push too hard because they were all already on the path of depravity. Their poisonous concoctions made their peanut-sized brains much easier to tamper with. You just needed them to open their mouths to say it.

 

To sprout this sinful idea and give it life.

 

And so it began.

 

The man with glasses cleared his throat, “She wouldn't do everything you guys tell her to do.”

 

“Yeah…” one of the girls laughed while chewing her lip. They were all feeling hot and bothered by the images you played in their heads. “…like would she…you know.” The girl shrugged looking at everyone else hoping she wasn’t the only one with such dirty thoughts, lucky for her she wasn’t.

 

Everyone began to laugh as more people joined in and it all snowballed perfectly.

 

“I bet she wouldn't suck your dick in front of us.”

 

“I mean did you see the way she was licking his hand?”

 

“What a slut.”

 

“She so would.”

 

“I bet she’s wet now.”

 

“Yeah getting all this attention, what a whore.”

 

The provocative comments kept going as the crowd ran with your drop of influence. Sukuna, Gojo, and Getou looked surprised by all of this, but soon their expression turned into realization as they looked at the very person who caused this.

 

You lean your head and flutter your lashes at them… innocently .

 

 .·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Six.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

 Chef Note: We feast next chapter 🌚🌝

[ddejavvu]

(ty other anon for reminding me of venom 😈😈)

this is so unholy of me but i cant stop thinking of bodyguard!eddie/venom w a drunk party animal reader who snuck out and is caught, xarried home by eddie/venom back to her house 😫😫 hggg may i kindly pretty pls with a cherry on top have even the smallest drop of smut wit him

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

You wouldn't have ducked outside for fresh air had you known what was waiting for you in the alleyway beside the bar. It's stuffy inside, so you make your way out the heavy back door, but the second it shuts something slimy wraps around your ankle and yanks, and the brick wall you're facing offers you no purchase as you scrape and claw at its surface.

"I have found her!" A deep, mighty voice roars, and you're flipped upside down, dangling in mid-air by your ankle. Venom's terrifying visage greets you, all razor sharp, dripping teeth and cloudy white eyes.

"You have been," Venom muses, sticking his tongue out to smear it along the expanse of your cheek, "Drinking."

You squeal in disgust at the feeling of the alien's tongue on your skin, but there's nothing you can do as you dangle upside down over the side of the roof.

"And smoking," Venom adds, at the slight aroma of smoke in the air.

"I wasn't smoking," You defend meekly, "Bars just smell like that."

"I do not care what you did inside." Venom growls, "I care that you are not still in your bedroom. Eddie told you to stay there."

"I wanted to have fun," You huff, and your legs split for just a brief second, but it's enough to knock the fabric of your skirt loose from between them. You'd managed to pinch the cloth between your knees when you'd been caught so that it didn't expose you to the cold night air, but apparently your muscles aren't strong enough to hold you still for long enough, and the garment falls around your waist, up towards your face.

"Aah! Venom," You push aimlessly at the skirt, only succeeding in swinging yourself slightly in his grip, "Put me down!"

But the symbiote's eyes have narrowed, and the ooze holding your ankle in place slowly spreads up your thighs. The black slime forces your legs apart, and Venom inhales sharply, long, dripping tongue coming back out to wrap around your upper thigh. He licks at your skin and saliva drips down up your leg, towards your waist where you're still suspended upside down.

Your bird-like screeches at how publicly exposed you are do nothing to deter the symbiote from tasting you, and when he gets a hint of the cum that's managed to soak through your panties and stain the creases of your thighs he roars, jerking you to the side and slamming you down against the roof of the building.

You expect to be winded, or even injured as your back hits the concrete but Venom's ooze blankets your fall, keeping you stuck firm and spread out for him on the roof.

"Whose cum is this?" Venom growls, eyes narrow and cloudy as he stares accusatorily at you. When you don't answer he lets out another frustrated snarl, jamming his tongue directly into your cunt.

He must have used a tendril of his ooze to tug aside your panties, because you have absolutely no time to prepare before his long, slimy tongue is stuffed entirely into your cunt. It feels deeper than anything you've ever had before, and you practically howl at how intrusive the muscle is as it swipes aggressively through your insides.

"This is not Eddie's," Venom growls, and you're filled with visions of hooking up with the man and his symbiote only the night prior after a tense night of his guard. You hadn't expected anything long-term from the fuck, really you'd just assumed they were doing it because you had to be stuck together, but apparently Venom had other ideas.

"And it is not mine." He speaks, plunging his tongue back into your abused hole. He scoops the cum out of your cunt and gathers it in his maw before spitting it back over you, painting your face with an obscene mixture of his sticky saliva and your last hookup's release.

"You are dirty," He decides, yanking your skirt back down to cover your gaping cunt. The ooze separating you from the concrete roof below disappears, but Venom's hold on you only tightens as he gathers you in his arms.

"We are going back to your apartment," Venom informs you, voice especially gravelly, "And we are going to punish you for sneaking out. Eddie is not happy, and neither am I. You will not leave again. We are trying to protect you."

"But Venom-"

"No arguments," Venom extends a tendril of slime to cover your mouth, and the stuff sticks to your lips, prying its way between them to form fingers as he gags you, "I hope you are ready, pet. We are going to teach you a lesson you will never forget."

[estapa-edwards]

pookie saw you were taking requests and that plus your amazing work had my brain working,, I loved your grumpy fic,, and as self-proclaimed menace to society, I would love to see Connor with a full on chaotic dramatic mess of a person,, very orange cat coded 🙈🙈😋

CHAOTIC - C. BEDARD

paring: Connor Bedard x reader

word count: 875

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Y/n has a larger-than-life personality reminiscent of an orange tabby cat, with a penchant for drama that could rival Broadway's finest. Their life is a constant whirlwind of spontaneous adventures, dramatic outbursts, and laughter that echoes through the halls. Y/N is the kind of person who can turn the most mundane moments into unforgettable memories, leaving a trail of chaos and joy in their wake.

Then there's Connor, the epitome of calm in the storm, whose presence exudes a quiet strength and determination. As a rising star in the world of hockey, his days are filled with rigorous training sessions, media obligations, and the pressure of living up to lofty expectations. Yet, amidst the chaos of his professional life, Y/N is his anchor, a source of light and laughter that brings balance to his world.

----

Armed with a recipe they found online, Connor and Y/N eagerly embark on a culinary adventure, determined to whip up a romantic dinner together. Their differing personalities complement each other perfectly, turning the kitchen chaos into a delightful symphony of laughter and love.

“How much salt did the recipe say to add?” Y/N asks, stirring a pot on the stove with a flourish of dramatic flair.

“It says just a pinch, but I think you might have gone a bit overboard there,” Connor replies with a gentle smile, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Y/N's animated gestures.

“Oops. Well, they do say cooking is all about experimentation, right?” Y/N laughs, their vibrant energy filling the room with warmth.

As Connor watches Y/N taste the sauce, he can't help but admire their zest for life. "I hope it's not too salty," he says, his voice steady and reassuring.

Y/N's face lights up with excitement. "Hmm, it's definitely... bold," they say, their eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe a sprinkle of paprika will give it that extra kick?"

Connor nods, impressed by Y/N's creativity. He reaches for the spice rack and adds a dash of paprika to the sauce, marveling at how effortlessly they transform the ordinary into the extraordinary.

As they continue to cook, Connor marvels at the way Y/N moves around the kitchen with grace and confidence, turning simple ingredients into a culinary masterpiece. Meanwhile, Y/N admires Connor's precision and attention to detail, grateful for his calming presence amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, Y/N accidentally knocks over a jar of olive oil, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud. They freeze, their eyes wide with shock.

Connor rushes to their side, his concern palpable. "Are you okay?"

Y/N bursts into laughter, their melodramatic reaction adding a touch of comedy to the situation. "I'm fine, just a little clumsy," they say, wiping away tears of mirth.

Connor joins in their laughter, relieved to see Y/N's spirits lifted. Together, they clean up the mess, their laughter echoing through the kitchen like music. 

--- --- --- 

Y/N arrives at the hockey arena, her excitement palpable as she bounces on the balls of her feet, a whirlwind of energy in the midst of a sea of fans. Her outfit is a riot of colors, a mishmash of patterns and textures that somehow come together in a chaotic symphony of style. She cheers loudly, her voice rising above the crowd as she waves a homemade sign emblazoned with Connor's name.

As the game begins, Y/N's enthusiasm knows no bounds. She jumps up and down, her hands flailing wildly in the air as she cheers on her beloved Connor with unwavering support. Her antics draw the attention of nearby spectators, who watch in amusement as she becomes increasingly animated with each play.

When Connor scores a goal, Y/N leaps out of her seat, cheering at the top of her lungs and showering the ice with confetti from a hidden stash in her bag. She dances in the aisles, oblivious to the stares of the other fans as she celebrates with reckless abandon.

But amidst the chaos of her celebration, disaster strikes in the form of an overenthusiastic high-five that sends her drink flying, drenching the unsuspecting fans seated in front of her. Y/N gasps in horror, her face flushing with embarrassment as she frantically apologizes and offers to buy them new drinks.

Despite the mishap, Y/N remains undeterred in her support for Connor, cheering him on with even greater fervor as the game progresses. She waves her homemade sign like a flag, her voice hoarse from shouting as she urges him onward to victory.

As the final buzzer sounds and the crowd erupts into cheers, Y/N rushes down to the edge of the rink, eager to congratulate Connor on his stellar performance. She wraps him in a tight embrace, her messy hair and smudged makeup a testament to the intensity of her support.

"Congratulations, Connor!" she exclaims, her eyes shining with pride. "You were amazing out there!"

Connor smiles, his heart full at the sight of Y/N's unbridled joy. He pulls her close, grateful for her unwavering support and the chaotic energy she brings into his life.

"Thanks, Y/N," he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I couldn't have done it without you."

sorry its so late, ive haven't been up to writing recently! hope you enjoy!

[teencopandthesourwolf]

STFU!

for the @sterekdrabbles 30/09/24 challenge. the prompt words were VORACIOUS, LOUD, and MILK. also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as this ended up going long (884 words) xp

also found HERE on ao3

rating: EXPLICIT

Derek finally caves, succumbing to Stiles's feral wiles and allowing Stiles to drag that disgustingly hot wolfy-ass beneath Stiles's not exactly fresh and not exactly sexy bed sheets, for what is the B-movie prelude to (god willing!) the night's main event that will hopefully see Stiles Stilinski getting royally fucked within an inch of his Gay Virgin life.

Stiles—albeit inexperienced in this department but very much making up for that with a voracious sort of enthusiasm, thank you very much—is in the middle of sloppily sucking Derek off. The werewolf's not actually knotted cock-end is currently mercilessly bumping the back of Stiles's throat (Stiles is loving the fact he's never had a gag reflex, and by all accounts so is Derek), before a mix of precome and spit is confusingly flicking up into Stiles's eyes and hair as Derek manhandles him to skillfully flip their positions, Derek now suddenly the one with a mouth stuffed full of steel-hard cock.

Stiles is instantly shrieking Derek's name like a lunatic (ha) at having Derek's brand-hot mouth clamped around him, so loud Derek has to shove all four fingers of his left hand into Stiles's mouth to essentially gag him—and hopefully desist any need the neighbours could have to call the Sheriff and tell Stiles's old man his only son might be getting his throat ripped out by a wild animal of unknown description.

It embarrassingly takes no time at all of Derek swallowing Stiles down like a champ (and giving his balls a glorious beard rash for him to jerk off over tomorrow) for Stiles to be dangerously close to shooting his load—directly into what feels likely to be Derek's fucking stomach at this point, because jesus fucking christ he's gonna come hard—and he finds himself slapping haphazardly and manically at the ball of Derek's shoulder with the palm of his hand, as if they're in an wrestling ring and Stiles is desperately trying to tap-out of a full nelson.  

“No-no-no! Stop-stop-stop, Der, please, you gotta—or I'm gonna, y'know, like I'll—and it'll happen, like—shiiiiiiit, oh, man, you cannot keep doing that with your tongue, big guy, or it's gonna be game over before it's even properly begun!” he manages to splutter out, indignant and rambling more than usual with the insane levels of pleasure now shooting throughout his body like a trillion miniscule lightning strikes.  

Derek, of course, completely ignores Stiles and absolutely keeps swirling his gorgeously warm and wet tongue around what is definitely the most intense hard-on of Stiles's eighteen years on this planet, like his dick is not actually a dick at all but Derek's favourite flavour of popsicle. Although, Stiles now knows that The D (or at least Derek Hale's fantastic D) does not, in fact, taste anything like any popsicle Stiles has ever consumed; it's maybe more like salt-water taffy, only with less sugar and a lot more salt and holy mother of god, Stiles loves, loves, loves it. And even trying his dumb best to distract himself from what he knows is the inevitable, to make this not-so-little slice of pure heaven last just a teensy bit longer, Stiles knows thinking about the taste of cock while getting blown by the hottest creature he's ever had the good fortune to lay eyes on is definitely not helping his situation one iota.  

Thank fucking fuck, Derek chooses this moment to relinquish the divine vacuum he's got going on between Stiles's inner thighs via what are probably now obscenely swollen-red lips, when he releases Stiles's erection with an incredibly filthy-sounding pop.   

Almost dizzy from the change in pressure around his junk, Stiles forces his head up to eye Derek (whose lips really are an obscenely swollen-red, which is even more outrageously hot than Stiles had imagined) just as Derek says, “I'm about to suck your deranged brain out through your pretty cock, Stiles, then I'm gonna milk you dry until you're begging me to stop. So, you better hang on to something, and be careful not to bite your tongue off when I stab mine into your slit and use it to fuck your dick till you're crying, okay?” as if he's talking into the McDonald's drive through speaker to order himself a Big Mac meal with large fries and a shake, and not unknowingly acting out a spank-bank worthy scene from one of Stiles's wet dreams. 

Hell, Stiles all but comes, there and fucking then, because who the fuck says shit like that?! 

His face is doing what must be a very strange mix of a smile and a frown as he just about manages to pathetically whine the words, “But Der, oh my god, I really, really need you to fuck me!”

And yeah, he's practically crying already.

Fuck off.  

Derek grins, then, and Stiles doesn't think he's ever been more his wild wolf-self as he licks his canines and growls out, “What makes you think I won't be taking advantage of what I know is your excellent refractory period, to make you orgasm like a fucking freight train, at least twice, before I rail your tight little ass until dawn and give you several more, hmm?” 

And—honestly, Stiles has never shut the fuck up faster in all his life.

.

come leave me a comment HERE over on ao3 :)

[darlingpwease]

I wound about Yandere omega Xue Yang (from Mdzs and lets just act like he have never die)

fufufu 'I love my omegas unhinged, intelligent and obsessive', mm~?

every dog needs a master

♡ unhealthy behaviour, animalistic behaviour, suggestive themes, dommale elements, intentionally dirtier and bloodier writing, mention of blood + killing + torture + metaphors with animals; manipulative!reader & morally grey!reader implied

♡ sex during mating season, rough sex, brat taming, breeding implied, blood play implied

ωα XUE YANG is the omega that you would never in your life think 'my future husband' at the first and subsequent meetings.

That he is evil, that his fate is bad, that he carries misfortune, that he is problematic, that you will definitely regret it — yes; but that he will become your omega? Never. Marriage and a marks is not just 'love' and mutual obligations; this is an inter-clan event where you make not just 'three bows', but radically change your whole life, especially with omega, in whose eyes there is always a shine that has nothing generative or innocent in it, but destroying and cursed.

You knew from the very beginning with whom you were linking fate and life.

That didn't stop you from digging nails into his waist when fangs left a binding mark on his clean neck.

Do you love him? Rather 'yes' than 'no' — no matter what, it's hard not to like him, even if someone finds your tastes strange, especially with this difference between you. But you carelessly say, 'well, what's wrong with my husband being wild, obnoxious, loud, vindictive, rabid, distrustful, unhinged, jealous, territorial, possessive and clingy? I love him, even if every omega and omega-like beta is afraid to approach me, including when he is not around!' — and what can anyone say to that if you already see perfectly well who your omega husband is?

In the end, you chose him no matter what; you responded to his advances and nursed him, you extended your hand to him, you allowed him to spend his heat with you and leave an itchy bite on your neck, which he is happy to update regularly.

To believe in 'kinship of souls' or 'destiny' is painful, even if this is clearly what XUE YANG is trying to tell you, smiling sweetly and making eyes at you, but your omega is so fascinating and pretty as murderous and jealous, as if all charm is outrage at the damage caused by the absence of any morality, — except that where you, like the owner, take him away and forbid.

It's even more surprising only when he agrees with you, snuggling up to your side, rubbing against you, leaving an aggressively territorial smell on your body and clothes, and promising that he won't do that anymore... At least you don't see any signs that he's doing it again. You don't believe in 'the power of love' or 'the power of kindness' — but when the leash is pulled, the dog goes; and even if "another case of how alpha tamed a rabid omega!", you're just smiling, not agreeing and not refuting. In the end, 'domestication' implies complete submission due to long and constant pressure, from which the animal becomes harmless and calm; but can you call your omega submissive and calm, and, moreover, 'harmless'?

You can't even call him 'not dangerous', let alone 'harmless' for interacting with anyone — but you don't need it; watchdogs should be aggressive and cruel, and since your sweet smiling husband behaves with you as with the greatest jewel, which anyone can't talk about if a person wants to stay with their eyes, and a long conversation with who will only lead to cutting off the tongue, then you are more than ready to accept and show understanding, like a pure celestial seeking to cleanse a vicious soul from a dark sediment, showing the wild omega the charm of being a delicate flower for his alpha.

... Who is safer to leave puppies with? Who to rely on if hard times come? Who will be better able to serve you arrows during the attack, follow you during the escape and handle your wounds after the battle?

Of course, you could have chosen a meek and gentle omega, with whom you would be safe and calm while they dutifully served you — but you were chosen by the most aggressive and desperate omega, promising to be the most perfect for you (even if he had to kill all the others so that you had no choice), and you chose him — voluntarily.

And this is important.

The dog chooses the only owner, entrusting his life and future to them, but it is the owner who chooses what to do with the dog. Never the other way around. And if you don't want the dog to cling to your throat and chew through your chest, then you have to hold it so tightly that it can't even move.

“I won't let you go.”

It's mutual.

ωα XUE YANG is very jealous — and possessive. Your scent is always on his body as well as his on you; to the extent that others no longer remember which of the two of you smells. XUE YANG doesn't care how vulgar it may look when the mixture of his and your fragrance doesn't leave body, especially if your fragrance is something 'atypical' and causes a certain reaction among omegas and alphas — he wears it as an achievement, as a trophy that has traces all over his body; starting from kisses and hickeys and ending with bruises and scratches — he is untamed, but you are ready to make attempts to refute this, treating him like a wild dog who does not want to understand where his place is, even knowing that he will never really stop trying to get out of these boundaries and will regularly try to bite through the leash to attack and feast on you.

The relationship with him does not have any definite 'end' on the scale of progress, where you can finally relax, knowing that he will not break out anymore — and if you kept him from escaping, it would be much easier, but to keep him from not trying to own you and be the only one who is in your life is much more difficult and problematic. XUE YANG has no 'moral boundaries' — life has taught him that — and knows that what he has will not necessarily be his forever.

He can't let anyone else have you.

And when his sharp fangs playfully bite you just to lick right away, you can only wind his hair around your fist, letting him feel that you are always ready to push him away as soon as he crosses the border and causes pain.

A few demonstrations are enough for him to learn at least this — even if you can freely bite his neck and shoulders until they bleed, especially when you press him firmly against the bed, wall or floor, leaving a mark on his neck, from which small drops flow down, although you can understand from the trembling in his body that his more what suits it, even if he continues to tease tease tease

ωα XUE YANG used to rely on the smell. In a world where any fragrance has a meaning and a source, and there is nothing 'superfluous', his sense of smell has always been especially sharp and tenacious, catching even those notes that others are unable to catch.

"Intuition" says someone; "stinks" echoes XUE YANG hoarsely when he feels someone else's smell on your body, even if he just entered the room smelling of incense after you took a bath. You don't know how he does it — it's like his nose is even more sensitive, but not at all the way people think; he does not need to feel a literal smell, he feels something even more subtle, as if there is something else in someone else's fragrance that touches his receptors and finds a response in his body and brain.

The whole world is a huge garbage dump for him, the stench in which is unbearable, no matter if he is in a slum or in some noble society where they take a bath three times a day — and you?

You smell like the cleanest and most desirable thing in the world.

It would not be an exaggeration to say that it was your smell that blew his head off, because you smell so animal-like; not like a stray mutt or a street cat smells, but something that triggers something primal and natural in him, making everything inside him want to plunge into you, get under the skin and stay forever.

When the bottom of his stomach almost painfully pulls, although his heat is still a few weeks away, XUE YANG knows that you are somewhere nearby, even if he does not see you — body reacts to you with the most animal and irresistible impulse, and the fact that you seem so pure and unattainable makes him frantically try to become more worthy and to get higher, to become much better, much more decent — to get to you and bite into your neck, pulling you down after him.

When a cat climbs up a tree after a bird, it doesn't do it to fly like a bird does.

And when he presses against you again and again, inhaling your scent, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tightly, you are sure that with the same success in his understanding you could be a half-dead mouse in the hands of a well-fed cat, over which the cat carefully puts sharp teeth, preparing to gnaw through the skin and leave a bleeding trail that does not a few more days will pass — his cute fangs are as sharp as a razor.

... Of course, XUE YANG doesn't consider you that way — especially when you hold tightly by the throat to the bed, almost suffocating him, looking down not with arrogance, but with authority, which at the same time makes him want to purr and obey and at the same time try to scratch your skin and make you look up at him.

Bad omega.

“Oh, really? I thought you liked this one, since you reek of some bitch again.”

... Xue Yang loves — adores — your scent and is ready to live forever surrounded only by it, taking your clothes and climbing into your arms.

But because of this, those moments when you smell of someone else excite in him the thirst for blood and possessive aspirations even more.

ωα XUE YANG doesn't build many nests before you start living together as spouses — in the end, he slept in your room much more often and returned to himself only if you insisted that you did not want even more rumors and damage to his reputation (as if the fact that he regularly flirts with you and behaves like a sunny arrogant spoiled darling while for everyone else he is a cruel heartless bully is not sufficient proof of his frank and shameless adoration) or yours (although here you are also sure that no omega will dare to take care of you after XUE YANG openly showed what will happen to the one who decides), but he obeys just to say capriciously the next morning that he doesn't want to go anywhere, teasing you.

But after you become a couple? Your whole room is filled with nests — your bed is one huge nest, in which he weaves around you like a vine around a strong tree, not letting go a millimeter from his strong embrace.

(Where are you going? To other omegas?)

Your clothes regularly turn out to be a building material, which is why you have to go to tricks and take away from his oldest nests — and although you are sure that this is nothing more than another of his tricks, especially when a hand is abruptly stretched out from there and drags you inside with a rather snide purr, you soon get used to it.

Even if you are more than aware of all his shortcomings, you cannot deny that the sight of him taking the form of a ball, wrapping around you like an affectionate cat, makes you want to stroke him and bask, ignoring the sharp claws and cunning glint in his eyes.

He is your husband, after all, and you have to take responsibility for him, even if sometimes he smells of blood much stronger than he should — but you are also working on this.

Or use it — in any case, you mostly accept it as it is.

ωα His heat is short, but strong, and if earlier you thought that he was wild, then during the estrus your main problem is to keep him under control and make sure that the claws and fangs are only where you are ready to have bruises, scratches and bites later.

And XUE YANG prefers the same way — wildly and rudely, so that the imprint of your hands remains around his neck while you force him to obey, pointing him to his place; and although in his normal state he is sensitive to the topic of whether they look at him from top to bottom, from bottom to top or as an equal, during the heat he does not mind at all that you do not give him any attempts to change his position — if you do not want to end up with a scratched chest, feel hot tongue licking drops of blood while he presses you firmly to the bottom of the nest, growling gutturally like a wild animal, while his claws dig into your skin, leaving marks.

He is more than in connection with his animal side and his ego is closer to the ego of a wild street dog, who is used to constantly checking his status and growling in attempts to change his position, even knowing that in response you can easily force him back to a state of submission — and from that, sharp fangs dig into the skin greedily and desperately, satisfying the desire to get enough of you before you have time to take away this intoxicating feeling, even if nothing prevents you from simultaneously indulging his desire to feel the right to have you and at the same time not giving him control, which, you know, will only lead to even more destructive things, since XUE YANG will never be satisfied until you are completely at his mercy — in such a right of possession in which the living cannot be.

... When you gently kiss his forehead, letting him lie calmly in front of you, receptive and defenseless, showing you his most vulnerable moments, giving himself completely to your hands and desires while his body is gently filled, finding pleasure in all-consuming hugs and touches, trustingly rubbing his nose against your neck or cheek, wrapping weak arms around your neck — for the first time, he can finally relax, entrusting himself and a sense of control to you, even knowing the risk he is taking.

And you know that this is your real husband, whom you married just for the sake of such moments.