#the two times in which I draw him are when he's showing midriff and when he's experiencing emotional turmoil via empires lore

[hiding-under-the-willow]

Guys!! He's bonita!!

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

Returning the Favor [DaisukexReader]

an: This is a continuation of Talkin' in your sleep. Takes place a week after that. Minimal plot (if any) this time, Daisuke might be a little ooc this time, feeling a bit feral today. Not beta read at all

Word count: 1077

mdni divider by cafekitsune

CW(S): oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, spit as lube(kind of), kind of a quickie?

You really don't know how you got yourself into this situation. It all started innocently enough, You had to take something to Daisuke in the utility room. You couldn't even remember what it was. Some where in between the delivery and Daisuke showing off the most recent thing Swansea was making him do with the circuit board led you to this moment.

Next thing you knew Daisuke was peppering kisses along your neck. Thankfully Swansea was on his lunchbreak so you didn't have to worry about him coming back for at least 30 minutes or so. It was just the two of you in the room alone.

“I don’t mind this but just like last time we gotta be quiet.” You remind him between giggles. “I don’t want anyone catching us.”

He hums and presses more kisses to your neck, “I dunno why you’re telling me when you’re the one who really has to focus on being quiet.”

You scoff “whats that supposed to mean?”

Daisuke sucks harshly at your neck and draws a gasp from you.

“I mean I’m returning the favor from last time. You took care of me so it’s my turn to pay up.”

The change in his demeanor has your stomach doing flips. This side of him is one you wanna see more often.

He clears off the desk, setting aside his project and taps the top motioning you to sit down.

Once you're seated on the desk he resumes his kisses, rubbing his hands down your sides. You slide your hands across his chest and tangle one in his hair giving it a slight tug. He sucks your neck in a few spots, pink splotches slowly blossoming in his wake.

He pulls away and caresses your face in his palms. "You don't mind if I like, go down on you right?"

"I'd be a little sad if you didn't." you grin.

He snorts and presses a couple chaste kisses to your lips before making work of the buttons on your jumpsuit. You help him shimmy it down enough to where it's pooling at your ankles.

He takes a moment to take in your semi-clothed frame with a grin, sliding his hands up your thighs. He pays extra attention to your inner thighs closer to your core. His fingers ghost the edge of your underwear. The cold metal of his rings sending pleasant chills up your spine.

You watch him expectantly, body practically vibrating with anticipation. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of them and pulls them down sinking to his knees as he does so. You hold your breath and spread your legs more to give him access.

With minimal hesitation he moves forward, warm breath fanning over your center. He licks a stripe up your pussy, testing the water to see your reaction.

You release the breath you were holding and let out a soft moan. That's his go ahead, he makes quick work and maneuvers his tongue skillfully

Daisuke's eyes meet yours, chocolate brown eyes gazing up at you lovingly. You bite your lip as he continues and snake a hand into his hair.

Your knowledge of Daisuke's sexual past was unknown, but with how well he was doing he must have had at least a girlfriend or two. That or he had a pretty interesting search history.

Quiet gasps and words of encouragement fall from your lips, which seems to spur him on further. His face is no doubt a mess with a mixture of your slick and his saliva.

After a particularly harsh suck on your clit you let out a moan louder than you meant to and tug on his hair. He pulls back and stands up. "I hate to stop there but I really really wanna be inside you right now." he admits.

In wordless agreement you began to pull up your shirt exposing your midriff. He fumbles with his belt buckle, hands shaking with excitement. Once there are no restrictions in the way he pulls down his boxers enough to let his erection free.

"Let me know if it's t'much." he whispers after planting a kiss on your forehead. His cock lines up and slowly pushes in. The mixture of his saliva and your slick serve as a makeshift lube, not ideal but it'll do.

He gives you time to adjust, inching in slowly. Once he's fully bottomed out he stills. His eyes close and his brows knit together, breath coming out in small huffs. As per usual he looks picture perfect.

You're in a similar state he is, your arms drape themselves across his shoulders. The stretch wasn't terrible but it was something you had to adjust to.

"Ok-ok You can move now." You say.

He nods and begins to thrust at a slow but steady pace.

Both of you are huffing quietly, gazing at each other as if you two were the only things to exist. He presses kisses to your lips and he begins to pick up the pace, the desk starting to creak quietly.

"Oh god you feel so good." he murmurs. You move one of your hands to your mouth, moaning quietly into the palm of your hand.

You try and meet his thrusts the best you can. Daisuke's hands plant themselves firmly on the desk as he speeds up. Creaks and moans from the both of you fill the room.

"I'm almost there." you whine.

Daisuke laughs which fades into a whine of his own. His thrusts get harsher causing you to grasp tightly onto his shirt.

With a few more harsh thrusts of his you squeal as you hit your climax, eyes tightening shut.

Daisuke soon follows, pulling out and finishing with his hand. He comes with a choked groan and a couple of spurts of cum land on your exposed stomach.

Both of you sit in silence, panting to catch your breath. He reaches behind you and grabs a few paper towels. "How do you feel?" he asks as he begins to clean the two of you up.

"Amazing!" you say cheerfully.

After you're all cleaned up you both get dressed, trying to make yourselves look as inconspicuous as possible. Swansea would be back any minute now.

"You should probably head back, I don't want either of us to get in trouble."

"Yeah-I'll see you later!"

You made your way out of the utility room with wobbly legs feeling content.

Bless that ray of sunshine.

[websterss]

HOLDING OUT — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: Hello!! I simply adore your fics with my whole heart I was wondering if I could request a Lockwood and co fic with Lockwood? Where maybe reader, him, and, Lucy are all at the auction and once they make their escape to the roof reader fights golden blade with her rapier and just before they jump maybe she gets stabbed or something? And lockwoods just freaking tf out? And he’s just pleading for her to stay with him and just angst to fluff if possible? I love your fics and your writings so much! 

WARNING(S): angst, some fluff, mentions of stab wound

WORD COUNT: 1,746

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Anthony had tugged on your and Lucy's hands back the way you came. Peering over the edge of the building had resulted in a dead end leaving you with the option of jumping into the freezing water or facing Golden Blade.

You all stopped dead when he blocked the way with the tip of his blade. Anthony had attempted to shield you behind his frame, but you weren't having any of it tonight. You were exhausted from running all day long, and you really wanted some tea and buiscuts. You were teetering on your last braincell. 

“That was mine!” He growled. The Bone Glass long gone in the hands of DEPRAC by now. Flo and George ensuring of its safety.

“Oh geezus, give up!” Anthony began backing the three you of towards the edge. “Bone glass is with DEPRAC, now it’s over.” 

“You don’t understand the game at all do you?” Golden Blade scoffed. 

It didn’t take long for you to unsheath your rapier, drawing it and directing it towards the man before you. His eyes met yours across the length of your weapon. There was a moment of tension and a flicker of surprise in his eye but he merely smirked.

"Oh my, looks like we have a fighter here. I always like a girl with spirit. Shall we dance? I wouldn't mind taking a spin." He spun his blade around, showing off and taunting you to attack.

“Do not engage, Y/n!” Anthony frowned.

"I do like a good tango!" You ran forward taking the first strike, ignoring Anthony’s pleas to stand down.

He sidestepped and your blade swished past his shoulder, missing him by an inch. His blade slashed up, trying to cut into your cheek but you'd already moved out of the distance of the blow. You took another step and jabbed at his side, only for him to dodge again.

“Y/n come on!” Anthony begged once more.

Lucy turned in time to catch him get up on the ledge, peering down into the water. “No, no, no, no.” She shook her head immediately, not wanting to take his extended hand. “No Lockwood.”

“Lucy he’ll kill us all-Y/N leave him!” He called after you, watching you swing and dart with precision, but it was the precision that made him fear for you to make a mistake and get hurt. 

"I always did prefer a woman with some backbone," Golden Blade grinned, his blade dancing above his head as he parried your next blow which was aimed straight at his face. You were good with the rapier, he'd give you that much. The two of you circled one another for some moments until you attempted to stab his midriff and he responded by launching forward, the tip of his blade piercing skin, your skin. You gasp as your weapon clattered to the ground, the silence growing eery and still as you looked down at where he got you.

“No!” You could hear Lucy and Anthony exclaim. 

You slowly look up at his eyes filled with amusement. He now faced a child simply scared for her life. “But even those with the confidence, are sure to have a weakness. You’re impulsive child.” He pulled the blade out of your abdomen. Your hands trying to clutch at the bleeding wound with shaky hands. You spared him one last glance before you turned and ran. Anthony had reached for your hand mid jump, but he had missed you by an inch. Your gasp filled his ears as you lept off towards the water. You fall into the icy waters of London, the air leaving your lungs as you plunge past the murky surface.

He watched you disappear with a splash. His heart thumping loudly in his ears. He gripped Lucy’s hand and lept off the edge. 

The icy water bit into your skin as you submerged completely. The water's embrace was chilling and bitter and you could feel the wound ache more when you plunged into the water. You kicked your legs and arms using what strength you had left to help you break the surface. You weren’t the strongest swimmer. Anthony knew it too, but you guessed when you feared drowning that your flight or fight response could possibly save you. You gasp as your head comes up, inhaling a chunk of air before you fell back down under the surface. You tried to kick upwards, feeling around in the water for something solid to grab on to but the water pushed against you with relentless force. You were drowning. Your head surface once more before you were met with a solid form. Your arms immediately clinging to it as you coughed up water. It wasn’t until a brush of fingertips pushed back your wet hair, that you realized it wasn’t a something, but a someone. 

"I've got you, I've got you!" Anthony held you close as your head fell forward onto his shoulder. "I've got you love." He swallowed the thick lump in his throat. His eyes closing shut as he fought to keep you both above water.

You clung to him for dear life. You were shaking and trembling with the cold, as well as the terror that you almost died. You were sobbing into his shirt, and even with the pain in your torso, you tried to hug him tightly, so that he wouldn't let go and you would never let go. He was the only lifeline you had right now. “He stabbed me...” Your lips trembled with the admition. 

This had Anthony recoiling back in your arms. His eyes were wide with concern and fear. He immediately checked you over. Lucy treading closer to the two of you. "What?" She exclaimed. "Where?" Anthony had lowered his hands down your sides and when his thumb brushed against the top of your jeans, your whimper was enough to let him know where it was you were injured. 

“Can you float?” His tone soft, but concern ridden. You barely missed the rasp in his throat as he blinked back tears. 

You nodded. Unwrapping your hands from his neck, allowing him to guide you on your back. One hand kept underneath you at all times. His hands had slowly reached forward to lift the hem of your shirt. Lucy's heart froze as she came closer to the two of you, her gaze fixated on the wound as well as you shaking from the cold. You had stopped crying, having focused your energy on maintaining yourself afloat. You kept your eyes closed as you tried to breathe. You’ll stay afloat as long as there’s air in your lungs, Anthony’s voice rang through your head, but no matter how hard you focused, the panic made only made it worse for you. Your eyes fluttered open in a flash, and you reached out for him again. Anthony caught you before you slipped under the surface, bringing you closer once more, letting you wrap your arms around him. 

Anthony couldn’t stop the wave of emotions that crashed up against him. He didn’t want to be crying in front of anyone, but he felt completely overwhelmed, tears filled his eyes as he held you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He had been afraid. Very afraid that he was going to lose you, right out here in the middle of the freezing river in London.

“We’re gonna get you help soon okay. I just need you to hold out for me a little longer. Can you do that for me?” He lifted your chin with his hand gently. You mustered a small nod but he needed more than that from you. “I need to hear you love. Just a little longer.”

“Just a little longer.” You echoed back to him. “I’m not a good swimmer Anthony...”

“And yet you jumped into the river.” His laugh breaks the tension.

“You were gonna do it first-had to beat you to it.” You breathe out a laugh.

“I would not have jumped in.” You both turn to Lucy, watching her tread water shivering. 

“Ready?” He dipped his chin to you both. 

“No.” You shook your head, you could feel the exhaustion getting to you but you knew you couldn’t let sleep win over your body.

“Whatever.” Lucy began swimming forward, the shore was the goal. 

“We can stop if you need to take breaks.”

“No, no stopping, the sooner we get to shore the faster we can take me to the hospital.” You breathed out again. 

“I’ll get you there safe and sound. I refuse to let the river claim you. I promise you.” He leaned forward and kissed your temple. You sighed against his touch. 

“Don’t let me go.” 

“I’d be stupid to.” There it was again, his charming smirk you adored. 

As you lay your head on his shoulder you felt his arms become tighter around you as a shiver ran down your spine. Your body shook uncontrollably against the cold of both the river and the weather. He could feel your teeth chattering and wanted to wrap you in his coat, give it to you, but you'd probably punch in the face if he tried. So he opted to just keep holding you close. His promise to never let you go would remain sound and safe in his heart. He'd swim across the ocean just to ensure your life, even if he was on his last remaining strength, he'd hold out to get you to safety. He was exhausted, knowing that the swim would take twice as long for you both but he'd get you there. He'd make certain of it.

He swam for what felt like hours but you could finally make out the shore. Lucy beat you both there, but she waited for you both to get there. She laid on top of the rocks, catching her breath. However, the look of relief that washed over her face made you want to sob from exhaustion. If not for the sting of your wound and numbness in your body, you would've flung yourself in her arms and just burst out crying right here and now. Yet still, you were so very grateful to see her wait on you. Anthony walked you both over to where she was and flopped the both of you beside her. Your chests rose and fell from the swim and the cold, but you were alive. That’s what mattered the most. You’d be alright.

[halliescomut]

My Stubborn Ep 1

This isn't really a review just me listing the story points I remember from the first episode. (I will eventually learn everyone's name probably, but right now I know Sorn and Jun and that's it.)

-Sorn is masturbating by a koi pond, Jun sees him and then they masturbate together by the koi pond.

-Now it's two years later and Jun has an internship at some company. You get introduced to like 12 ppl. Two of them are ladies who I presume will be a GL couple eventually and one is wearing a suit jacket with a midriff cutout that has to be a wardrobe violation.

-The couple from Unforgotten Night is in this (the actors not the characters) and I guess they're idiots in love. The one who is like a boss guy is totally gone over the other, who is oblivious. They flirt over some sort of pork skewer.

-Jun is eavesdropping/spying around the office building and catches two ppl making out in the stairwell, and then Sorn catches him doing that.

-We get a flashback to a couple years ago (I'm guessing) where Jun gets drugged at a club and has a persistent erection and Sorn 'helps' by giving him a blowie in his car.

-We're back to the present and still in the stairwell and Jun thanks him for the blowie. Better late than never I guess.

-We see another moment with the unforgotten night couple where he catches the other guy's chin when he's about to fall asleep at his desk.

-I have no idea what this company does. We get a montage of Sorn walking by Jun while he does typically comedic office stuff like struggle with the copier.

- Day one of work over and Jun gets picked up by the guy he's casually seeing who is also a cutie patootie.

-Sorn meets up with some random chick and they fuck (but off screen we just see making out). I'm assuming she's a regular hookup of his, bc he doesn't act boyfriend-y.

-Now day two of work. Jun I guess came in early and fell asleep at his desk. He's woken up by his mentor, and he has a little dot on his nose and whiskers drawn on his cheeks.

-Sorn and Unforgotten Night guy come in and he's trying to ask about the face drawing but Sorn covers his mouth and nose and he's like 'OMG, your hand stinks. Did you not wash it?' and Sorn's like 'yeah'. So I'm guessing we're to assume his hand smells like that lady's pussy?!? Which...ewww (the non-handwashing part).

-Sorn is all flirty with Jun again, at his desk at work in clear view of the other employees. Wildly inappropriate.

-Mentor man tells Jun about the face drawing and Jun heads to the bathroom to try and wash it off.

-Sorn shows up in the bathroom, bc ofc he does. (We get a short flashback showing Sorn drew the nose dot and whiskers, then being super soft and simpy while looking at Jun.)

-Sorn asks Jun if he's really dating a guy and bc he's being kind of aggressive about it Jun's like 'why? Are you homophobic?'. The man has had your dick specifically in both his hand and mouth...what do you mean???

-Sorn clarifies he was just curious bc Jun used to only date women (while also masturbating with a man by a koi pond and getting sucked off in a dude's car, but yeah that's totally straight behavior.)

-Jun says he's changed and is now 'spicy Jun' and pulls up his shirt to smack his stomach for some reason. Just to remind you we're still in the company public bathroom, not even in a stall, just by the sinks in full view of the unlockable door.

-Sorn pulls up his own shirt calling his slightly more toned abdomen the 'real deal' and Jun starts to fondle him basically.

-He asks again what made Jun start being into guys and Jun's like 'it definitely wasn't you sucking my dick that one time.'

-Jun finally remembers they're in public, and is like 'we're not talking about this here'. Then Sorn asks him if he had 'used anything he had taught him' meaning had some sort of sexual encounter with another man.

-Jun says yes with the cutie he's sort of seeing. Idk if that's really true or if he was trying to rile up Sorn, but Sorn is riled up and kisses him and then a new guy walks in. (New as in we hadn't met him yet.)

-Everyone is uncomfortable and Sorn and New guy leave. New guy starts gossiping with another employee about Sorn and Jun fighting in the bathroom, so I guess he didn't see the kiss.

-Sorn and Jun bicker again. Day two of work over.

-Jun meets a friend at a bar. Gets flirted with by a cute boy. Then Sorn shows up bc ofc he does.

-Jun goes to the hall by the bathrooms (?) and Sorn shows up and starts making out with some lady. Maybe the same lady from the night before, but his face is in the way and I can't tell.

-Cute flirty boy comes out and Jun grabs him and starts making out with him to make Sorn jealous I guess....bc he's jealous of the lady Sorn's making out with. They're idiots your honor.

-Cute flirty boy's boyfriend shows up and starts beating the everliving fuck out of Jun (with some pretty silly stunt choreography). Totally fair Jun didn't assume he had a bf, bc he was being distinctly flirty, not just friendly.

-Angry boyfriend breaks his beer bottle, I guess planning to stab Jun with it which is kind of insane. And then everything fades to white and then credits. As far as we know though, Sorn is still right there, so he's probably gonna fight the guy and save the day. But we'll have to wait til next week to see.

This whole episode was absolutely ridiculous and I'm definitely gonna keep watching. 😂😂.

[samstree]

Just a Little Pretense

Jaskier and Geralt stage a fake breakup. Someone’s feelings get hurt for real.

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

AO3

“… It would be to take you off my hands!”

Geralt’s voice echoes in the ballroom, between the tall walls and the high ceiling. Everyone on the dance floor has fallen into silence. Even the band has stopped playing, their lead singer gaping with round eyes.

Jaskier blinks, impressed.

All the eyes are on the two of them. Jaskier’s back prickles with the gazes. As the fight escalated, more and more guests have stopped dancing just to eavesdrop on the witcher and the bard, the most peculiar couple in the room.

Which is just perfect. The more people witnessing their breakup, the more awkward it will be afterward, and the easier it will be to get out of this tedious party. And here Jaskier is, regretting ever having doubted his dear witcher’s ability to perform.

Who would have thought Geralt is a method actor? Drawing inspiration from a past argument is ingenious.

His old acting professor back in Oxenfurt would approve of this. The show is going swimmingly and he is pumped with adrenaline—maybe he should go back on stage one day, do a play or two.

But alas, he can muse the idea later. The show must go on.

“Really? Just like that?” Jaskier croaks, seemingly on the verge of crying. He’s not so bad himself, classically trained and everything. “Thirty years, Geralt. I followed you for thirty years, and just like that, you will kick me out of your life? Did I ever—” he breaks off with a whimper. “Did I ever mean anything to you? Or were you ready to cast me aside this whole time?”

A tear rolls down. His lips wobble. The crowd erupts in hushed murmurs and sympathetic sighs. The set-up, the build, everything has been perfect. Now the only thing left is for Geralt to break things off, and the two of them can ride into the metaphorical sunset and never see this court again.

Jaskier waits in anticipation, but his witcher opens his mouth.

And closes it.

Geralt looks as upset as he should, angry and torn and equally shocked, his golden eyes wide and his jaw clenched tight. It’s a nice picture to paint for the audience. They are supposedly having the biggest fight in their lives and his body language is very convincing.

More than convincing.

Except, it just might be … too convincing.

Wait—

Jaskier focuses on Geralt, who looks as if he wants to shrink into himself, his shoulders slumped and arms drawn in. He looks as if he’s waiting to be struck. Wait, something’s not right.

“I can’t do this.” A whisper leaves Geralt’s lips, small and achingly sad.

It’s not the line he’s supposed to say.

Geralt’s eyebrows droop ever so slightly, and there’s a flash of distress behind the molten gold. It’s gone in a second, hidden behind a façade of indifference.

The tells are subtle, near imperceivable to the untrained eye, but to Jaskier, they are clear as day—Geralt is hurt. For real.

Oh.

Fuck.

“Geralt,” Jaskier tries, instantly snapped out of his character.

And yet, there’s no reply. Geralt lowers his head, turns around, and flees the scene within one heartbeat and the next. The crowd is too eager to make way for him.

“Shit,” Jaskier curses, ready to chase after Geralt, but the Countess de Stael appears out of nowhere with a flock of maids and positively blocks him in all directions. She’s eager to lament the loss of love and companionship, and to offer Jaskier a place at her court once again. Oh, shit.

Jaskier brushes her off, all the while painfully remembering he and Geralt’s goal from the beginning—to use the breakup as an excuse to get out of this place.

Well, the plan is shit. Is it too late to notice?

Weaving through dozens of nobles is a lot more difficult when they all want to extend sympathy, and Jaskier is only placating them absent-mindedly, faking regret and heartbreak. His mind is full of his witcher, who is either brooding or spiraling over the venom he spewed earlier.

The truth is, Jaskier has long forgotten about the mountain—not because it didn’t hurt. To be shunned by Geralt, blamed for everything, and denied friendship, was the worst thing to have happened to him at the time. It’s just that Jaskier has forgiven it, so long ago and so completely.

Jaskier cannot get to their room fast enough, and when he pushes open the door, the sight of Geralt’s dejected face is a stab through the chest. The witcher is perched on the bed, somehow looking a lot smaller than he is.

Jaskier never should have come up with the stupid fake breakup thing, never should have inadvertently reopened the old wound. They healed, together. They shouldn’t be hurting anymore.

“I explained. We can leave now,” Jaskier tires, but in fairness, he doesn’t remember what he said to the Countess. “Geralt?”

The witcher himself crosses his arms, hugging his midriff and avoiding Jaskier’s gaze. “Good,” he answers curtly, shoulders still tense.

He looks angry, and when Geralt is angry, it’s most likely with himself. Oh, whatever heartbreak Jaskier acted out earlier, it’s not a match to a fraction of what he’s feeling now. It must be the one millionth time Geralt’s self-loathing has broken Jaskier’s heart, and it never gets easier, not when Jaskier caused it himself.

“Hey.” Jaskier desperately wants to wrap his arms around Geralt. So he does. He sits down on the bed and pulls his witcher into the biggest bear hug, which is returned immediately and so very tightly. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I fucked up, Geralt. I’m—”

“Don’t be.” Geralt buries his nose into Jaskier’s neck and shakes his head. “I never should have said those things, Jask. I should be the one apologizing. It was wrong and untrue and I would never abandon you. You are my best friend. How can I ever? Please, believe me…”

Geralt trails off, his hands rubbing circles into Jaskier’s back. Although it’s unclear who he’s trying to soothe.

“I know. It’s okay. I know,” Jaskier murmurs, over and over again, sealing each reassurance with a kiss pressed into silver hair.

“I never meant it, Jask.”

“I know. It was fake. We were pretending.”

Geralt pulls away, golden eyes dead serious, pausing between every word. “I never meant it.”

Jaskier meets his gaze unwaveringly, with not an ounce of doubt. “I know.”

They stay there for a while, just holding each other. Geralt keeps sniffing Jaskier’s scent the same way he always does to check for injury or distress. He thinks he’s subtle, the sweet man, so Jaskier never mentions it.

Despite what an outsider might assume, Geralt is the sensitive one between the two. He’s so careful when it comes to their relationship, especially after the mountain and sometimes to his own detriment.

He’s so scared of hurting Jaskier again.

“I was an idiot for suggesting it,” Jaskier breaks the silence, nudging Geralt in the knee.

Geralt hums, lips pursed.

“Fake breakup is a terrible idea. Next time we’ll just grit our teeth and sit through the month-long party.”

Still, no smile.

“Alright, you win. Next time I won’t take you to a month-long party to start with.” Jaskier gently pats Geralt on the cheek. “For your delicate sensibilities, darling.”

Finally, finally, Geralt’s lips turn upwards, just a smidge.

“You are an idiot,” Geralt says, the crease between his brows fading. “Just…don’t make me make you cry again.”

Melting into the warmth welling up between his ribcage, Jaskier leans forward and presses a tiny kiss at his witcher’s forehead, so softly as if he’d break with any more force.

“Yes, dear.”

Being careless with Geralt’s heart is a mistake that Jaskier never wants to repeat. As he put a hand over his witcher’s languid heartbeat, Jaskier feels the soft thrumming against his palm, and realizes just how terribly he needs to guard it with the same care too. Against his frivolous self, and against the past that never seems to stop haunting them.

Because Jaskier needs this thing between them to work. If a faked breakup already seems unbearable, he shudders to imagine a real one.

A witcher’s life is already riddled with pain and sadness and could-have-beens. A poet would hate it if he added himself to the list.

---

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod @kuripon

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[merakiui]

Apricity

yandere!albedo x (gender neutral) reader art credit - miHoYo cw: nsfw elements, yandere, captivity/restraints, unhealthy behaviors note - please come home to me and take care on the journey, albedo! :D also kindly heed the warnings. thank you!

His eyes are unnaturally pretty. Like twin crystals glittering in an expansive, dismal cave, searching for secrets unheard of within Mondstadt. Somehow you’re always in his peripheral, not too close and yet impossibly far at the same time. The distance is harrowing, terribly so, and Albedo knows it should be nothing short of a coincidence. When he shows up at your quaint stall with Sucrose, claiming to be in need of the exact wares you happen to sell, you pay it no mind. After all, you’ve met your fair share of regulars, and their support is what keeps you afloat. 

But there is more to those beautiful irises than he lets on. Whether it’s intentional or not, you can’t exactly say. You suppose you would rather run into someone as well-respected as Albedo as opposed to an unlikable stranger with ill intent. And it’s always great to see a familiar face, especially when he chooses to peruse your stall rather the others around you. It isn’t all that strange; you’ve even become friends with Sucrose during your short interactions. Albedo has indulged in stiff conversations with you before, but most of them were meaningless. Simple throwaway chatter between two acquaintances. 

Oddly enough, Albedo finds himself wanting more. He doesn’t want to talk about the weather or the transitioning seasons; he wants to listen to you explain how your day was and if you made more profit than the day before that. He wants to stand there and immerse himself in your pleasant voice, ignorant to the hustle and bustle of the people around him. And yet he just can’t. For a variety of reasons that pull him out of the haze of intrigue, you’ll always remain in the background. And he simply can’t bear the thought of that.

It’s rude to deteriorate a relationship that’s only just begun to blossom. If your meager acquaintanceship with him were to wither away into dust, he would feel obligated to keep it going—as if he were simply beating a dead cow with a stick. Although your hobbies differ from his, it’s nothing he can’t handle. A genius must familiarize himself with other areas of study if he intends to craft solutions that are outside of the box.

“Albedo?” 

Your tone is meek and small, tinged with the slightest shiver. Part of him feels bad for lying to you, but you were just so trusting. It’s almost comical how easily you fell into his trap. If he gets to see you in such a delicious way all the time, he’s more than willing to forsake the truth to meet his own desires. A selfish wish, yes, but it’s absolutely wonderful.

“What is it?” 

He eyes you from his spot behind the easel, and even though you can’t see him you can feel his piercing gaze. Like the sun shining brightly in a wintry afternoon, his eyes smolder with unbearable heat and yet his expression is cold with brilliant focus. 

“A-Are you almost done? It’s really cold.” Your bare back touches the wall and you flinch, an instinctual response that makes Albedo’s brow quirk. “And this is sort of...weird.”

“How so?” 

He says that in such a dismissive manner, acting as if your current position isn’t compromising. As if this was a normal exchange between friendly strangers. You have trouble finding your voice in this situation, especially since talking seems like such a chore. You’re worried you’ll say the wrong thing and then it’ll leave a false imprint of who you are on Albedo. But you’ve always been nice, unable to refuse those who are kind in return, and so you’re forced to endure the discomfort that comes with modeling nude for this peculiar alchemist. 

“Think about it.” You distract yourself with a ramble of an explanation—certainly more than what’s necessary, but Albedo doesn’t mind. He finds solace in your voice. “You’re looking at me and I’m...n-naked. And we don’t really know each other. I’m not trying to vilify you when I say this, but I don’t want you to do anything bad to me. N-Not that you would! It’s just—this is really weird. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Hm.”

“And do I have to be tied up like this?” You shuffle in your bindings, fingers scrabbling over the cuffs and chains that jingle like horrible sleigh bells. 

“You were moving too much earlier. I won’t be able to get your anatomy right if you’re constantly fidgeting.”

But it’s uncomfortable, you think, chewing on your lip out of habit.

“I guess I understand. It must be an artist thing, right?”

“You could say that.”

His work on the canvas offers a display that’s just as lewd as the real model, down to the way your nipples perk and harden in the cold. He’s not even close to finishing and that’s a blessing in itself. He could stare at your figure for hours on end, committing every inch of your flesh to memory, and he wouldn’t grow weary. 

“Do artists normally blindfold their models? I don’t really know anything about this stuff, but it’s okay if it helps with the process.”

“I find it to be interesting,” he answers, simple and vague as ever. “It adds a mysterious touch to the finished piece.”

“So you draw the model with the blindfold?” You’re used to gazing upon paintings of flowers and portraits of influential historical figures rather than blatant nudity. “Artists are definitely unique.”

Albedo hums in response, secretly reveling in your naïveté. At the end of the day, you’re just a normal citizen of Mondstadt, who stands behind a wooden stall every single day and happily chats with potential customers. You excel in business, but when it comes to the inner workings of art you’re at a loss. And that makes it all the more easier for Albedo to spin all sorts of wild tales. He fears that gullible nature will harm you in the future, yet there isn’t a threat in sight. Not when you’re here in front of him, no longer confined to his peripheral. And you’ll stay there for however long it takes him to finish this painting. 

It’s a twisted infatuation. Albedo knows he shouldn’t take too much of your time or else he’ll become addicted and it will be impossible to focus on his studies. But he can’t stop himself or his wandering gaze, which trails up your midriff. Higher and higher until he’s staring at your face, eyes obscured behind the soft fabric of a blindfold. Your body is a temple he wishes to worship, and perhaps that’s a sacrilegious thought that ought to have him consider the weight of his emotions. 

And yet you’re far too irresistible. His thoughts are dangerously potent, swirling within his brain like a maddening hurricane. Surely your missing presence in the market won’t be questioned if he were to keep you just a little longer. Longer than the boundaries of sanity will allow, that is. There are other vendors who sell the same things you boast; the economy won’t shatter if you’re not there to provide.

The paintbrush moves along the canvas in even strokes and suddenly Albedo’s mind is wandering between subjects. From art to alchemy, love to lust, and the wondrous crevices in your anatomy that call out to him. The brush stills in his hand. If he’s not mistaken, Sucrose will be stopping by to assist him and the last thing he needs is staining his appearance in a suspicious color. 

“Albedo?” His name rolls off of your tongue in such a delectable way; it’s almost sinful how his thoughts race and race in an endless track. “Are you almost done? My back is sore and the floor’s really uncomfortable.”

“Sorry. This will take longer than I thought.” He sets his brush and palette down, and you listen to his footsteps as they draw near. “Something has come up, but I promise I won’t be long.” 

“Wait. You’re not going to leave me, are you? I need to get back to the marketplace!”

Before you know what’s happening, the blindfold is coming off and you’re locking eyes with Albedo, who peers at you with intense scrutiny. Certainly the look of a genius studying a textbook. You grow flustered all at once, just now coming to terms with the fact that he looked at your body for longer than you’d like to admit. Shyly, you shut your legs to obscure your private parts, but it’s not like that will help the embarrassment that claws its way onto your expression like a persistent beast. 

“You’re better off waiting here.” He shrugs off his coat, draping it over your shoulders as if that’ll keep the dreadful chill away. “As much as I would like to finish this now, I have other work that must be taken care of.”

“I get that, but you can’t just leave me here! That’s practically kidnapping!” you protest, hoping he’ll heed the desperation in your trembling vocals. “At least, that’s what this feels like.”

“I wouldn’t kidnap you,” he says, amusement flashing in his eyes. “You’re too funny.”

Yet he isn’t laughing and neither are you as you helplessly watch him depart. The floor is too cold for your liking and the idea of entrapment settles under your skin like a million maggots feasting on a decaying, chilled copse. Devoid of warmth and carrying an air of measured grace, Albedo doesn’t spare you another glance.

He doesn’t need to. He’ll have all the time in the world to study your body like it’s the finest artwork, and you’ll be powerless to object.

[skiller0dani]

NSFW Alphabet | JJ Maybank

M A S T E R L I S T Outer Banks Masterlist

smut requests info

hope you enjoy, love you all. 

AFTERCARE (what he’s like after sex)

so JJ is used to random hook ups and aftercare wasn’t always something he did

he did if he was in the mood 

most of the time hook ups were a way to release pent up frustration 

and when he’s mad he doesn’t do aftercare

until he started dating you

now he goes a little over the top with aftercare

he massages you with lotion afterwards

gets you water and snacks if you want them

hot water bottle if you’re sore

sometimes draws you a bath

boy really loves you & wants to take care of you 

BODY PART (his favorite body part of his & yours)

JJ loves every single inch of your body

but deep down he’s an ass man

loves to see the round curve of your ass in those tight jeans you wear

and your bikini? 

lets just say JJ has a lot of unwanted boners whenever you’re in a swimsuit

which is often during the summer

you can always count on JJ to pin you against the wall and grab a handful of that perfect ass of yours at least once a day

CUM (anything to do with cum, basically)

JJ thinks your cum tastes good

which is kind of embarrassing when he talks about it too much

sometimes he talks about your cum just to see you get all bashful about it with rosy cheeks

funnily enough JJ thinks his cum is kinda gross though

“ew it got on me!” 

“that’s your cum JJ!” 

he usually cleans it off your right away though

he doesn’t want it to get tacky on your skin

which grosses him out more

DIRTY SECRET (a dirty secret of his)

JJ, for some reason, is embarrassed about the fact that he tends to be a little gentler in bed then people expect

it’s an inside joke among the pogues that JJ is a rough lover

which you discovered is not really true

he can be rough, but normally he isn’t

he’s rough when he gets possessive

like when Rafe and his little group flirt with you to piss JJ off 

you can bet that night JJ will be pounding into you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a few days

JJ can also get rough if he’s angry 

if someone pisses JJ off for any reason you can count on getting thrown around a little

but he doesn’t throw you around too much, he would never hurt you

it’s all consensual though, JJ would never do that if he knew you didn’t want him to

EXPERIENCE (how experienced is he? does he know what he’s doing?)

JJ, much to your dismay, is very experienced while you were very inexperienced

by the time you two had sex the first time he had already been with 4 girls before you

JJ had to teach you everything about sex

he was very sexually ambiguous for a 17 year old 

JJ has never been ashamed of his sexual past, but when he started dating you he did feel a little guilty when he saw how much it bothered you

it only bothered you so much because you were a virgin before JJ

you’ve never been with anybody before JJ, and he’s had a lot of sexual partners 

and you would be lying if you said it didn’t bother you

because it does

a lot 

that’s why JJ doesn’t really bring it up

FAVORITE POSITION (this goes without saying tbh)

any position he gets to fuck you is his favorite position

JJ always says “there’s way too many to pick just one!”  

a personal favorite of yours is when you get to ride him

JJ is always takes the lead when it comes to sex 

so he’s always watching you come undone

and when you ride him you get to see him come undone

and boy is it a beautiful sight

head tossed back against the bed

eyes squeezed shut

little whimpers escaping his clenched teeth

his hands holding your hips tightly to still control the pace

even when you top, JJ needs to be in control somehow

you can’t help but whine whenever you see his bottom lip pulled between his teeth

it truly is an honor to watch JJ cum

GOOFY (is he more serious in the moment? more humorous? etc)

he is both evenly 

most of the time, JJ is goofy 

he hardly even takes day to day life seriously

so most of the time JJ is cracking jokes and trying to make you laugh

and he spends a decent amount of time trying to make you blush

but when JJ gets upset he’s an entirely different person in the bedroom

his jaw is always locked, and his gaze is dark and lustful 

he doesn’t crack any jokes, and doesn’t goof around

if someone made a move on you then JJ is usually pretty pissed off during sex

sometimes he’s gotta remind you who you belong to

HAIR (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes?)

trimmed a little but honestly JJ isn’t too concerned about it

you don’t care if he upkeeps his pubes or not so neither does he

he does if the bush gets to crazy but other than that he leaves it alone

they’re a shade darker then his hair

so like a dark dark blonde

INTIMACY (how is he during the moment? is he romantic?)

unless he’s angry, JJ is very intimate during sex

before JJ started dating you, he had sex just to get off

he had sex with girls because it felt good

there was no closeness in it, no intimacy

but with you sex is very intimate

it’s never about just getting off

every time he has sex with you 

even when he’s angry and pounding into you 

he’s showing you how much he loves you in the only way he knows best

while it’s true that JJ had a lot of sexual partners before you, none of them really showed JJ what sex could be like

that it could be so fucking good 

because with them it felt good, but nowhere near as good as it feels to have sex with someone you love

JACK OFF (masturbation headcanon)

JJ jacks off a lot more then he used to

because when you’re not in the mood, or if you’re busy then he has to find some way to relieve himself

before you JJ would hit up every one of his booty calls until one of them agreed to come over

but he would never cheat on you so if you turn down sex, JJ waits 

and while he waits he jerks off to satiate him until you’re ready

and he never rushes you because he’s not an asshole

he waits patiently because this sweet boy loves you very much

KINK (one or more of his kinks)

he hasn’t outwardly admitted it but you think JJ has a secret daddy kink

he loves when you do exactly what he says

he loves being in total control

he loves the trust that comes with it, when you physically show him that you trust him enough to do whatever he says without question

it’s comforting to know you trust him not to hurt you

he calls you little girl during sex a lot

which you love

“gonna cum for me little girl?” 

“yes daddy please,” 

it accidentally slipped out. really you didn’t mean to say it

but as soon as you did, JJ groaned softly

and his pace quickened a little

you could tell that he liked that

so you decided to “accidentally” say it more often

LOCATION (favorite places to do the deed)

JJ is a borderline exhibitionist 

he likes the thrill of almost getting caught

but most of the places he chooses to rail you are places that couldn’t be come across accidentally 

JJ can’t bring himself to risk someone else seeing you naked

or worse 

getting fucked

if some other guy saw that beautiful fucked out look on your face when JJ’s driving his cock into you

he’d probably beat the guy to death

so JJ gets his “fucking in public” fix in restrooms or other places with lockable doors

he’d never fuck you out in the open

MOTIVATION (what turns him on?)

e v e r y t h i n g

JJ is horny 92% of the day so anything you do is bound to turn him on

bending over? JJ is popping a boner

your shirt lifts to reveal your midriff? JJ is 100% popping a boner

stripping down to your bikini to get in the water? he’s rock solid before you even get your shorts off

and then he’s looking around to make sure nobody else is watching you strip

there was one time he caught Pope looking when you were getting ready to get in the water and JJ might have punched him

he pulled the punch though, so it didn’t even really leave a bruise

it hurt enough for Pope to never make that mistake again

he literally closes his eyes until he hears you get into the water now, Pope won’t even risk glancing in your direction 

he’s afraid of receiving JJ’s wrath if he’s caught looking again

NO (something he wouldn’t do, his turn offs)

anything that would cause you a lot of pain

he’s comfortable with inflicting you with a little bit of pain like spanking

but anything worse than that and JJ is out

once as a joke you asked JJ if you guys could try ‘blood play’ and JJ freaked out

“I would have to cut you Y/N, no fuckin’ way.” 

“I was just kidding baby.” 

JJ would prefer to make sex exciting in other ways

ways that can’t hurt you

like blindfolding you

using ice or feathers as stimulation

g e n t l e choking 

very gentle

JJ can’t hurt you, he physically won’t feel any joy from it

his dad has hurt him so much that JJ doesn’t like hurting anybody that doesn’t really deserve it

like Rafe, he definitely deserves it

ORAL (preference on giving or receiving, skill, etc)

JJ hates being that stereotypical guy but he really loves when you give him a blow job

you’re just so fucking good at it

when you wrap your lips around him, it literally takes his breath away

when you use your tongue on the underside, JJ feels his insides begin to squirm around

plus he doesn’t mind receiving more than giving too much because he knows how much you love sucking him off

sometimes you beg him to let you suck him off

and of course, JJ always says yes

you’re fucking hungry for his cock, and if you had it your way it would always be in your mouth

but just because JJ likes receiving more than giving doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to go down on you

because JJ is phenomenal at eating you out

some of the most mind blowing orgasms you’ve ever had have been with JJ’s head in between your legs

boy knows what he’s doing in that regard, he just doesn’t do it very often

which doesn’t bother you because he will happily do it if you ask him to

PACE (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc)

depends on his mood, like all things

if he’s in a good mood, his pace is pretty moderate

not too fast but not too slow

if he’s in a really lovey dovey mood then his pace is slow and passionate

long and deep strokes to make sure you feel every inch

if he’s pissed off or jealous then his pace is quick and brutal

harsh snaps of his hips against yours and definite bruises on your hips from him holding you so hard

he always feels bad about the bruises

but you always reassure him and insist you love the bruises

which you do

QUICKIE (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc)

quickies are a pretty normal thing for you two

it’s quickies more often then anything else

a quick fuck in the Chateau’s bathroom before any of the pogues notice you’re gone

quickies in your room when you sneak away from the party because JJ took off his shirt and you decided you desperately needed his cock

it’s rare that you two get to take your time 

but when you can take your time, its some of the best sex you guys have

like it’s so good that it’s worth waiting for

but you’re not complaining too much because any sex you have with JJ is going to be amazing

RISK (is he okay with experimenting? does he take risks?)

yeah he’s okay with moderate risk

if it’s something that could get you in serious trouble then he absolutely won’t do it

if it puts you in a situation 

if it’s something that could hurt you or cause you pain then no he won’t risk it

he cares about your needs and your safety way more than his own

JJ doesn’t care if he gets in trouble and he doesn’t care if he gets hurt

his pain tolerance is really high so he almost never notices if he gets hurt during sex

like if you claw at his back too much and he’s bleeding

actually he loves it when you claw at him, and he loves it even more if you make him bleed

you usually end up looking out for him in the same way he looks out for you

you won’t let him do anything that could end up hurting him

STAMINA (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

JJ can go for 2-3 rounds before his dick physically will not get hard again

if he had it his way he’d fuck you all night, but he can’t 

which annoys him

boy can fuck you at Earth shattering speeds and hardly break a sweat

he’s got the energy of a hyperactive child when it comes to sex

sadistically that’s one of your favorite things about JJ, that he can fuck you for long periods of time without tiring

it makes sex exciting

TOYS (does he own toys? how much does he use them? on you or him?)

JJ definitely doesn’t own any toys but you do

and when he discovered this, he immediately brought it into your sex life

he loves watching you cum on a vibrator

he has a remote control one that he uses a lot so he can sit at the end of the bed and watch you cum without even touching you

he also got a small one that you sometimes use when other people are around

and JJ will randomly turn it on when you’re having dinner at Kiara’s 

and you can’t make any sound or act weird 

you always see that little smirk on JJ’s face from across the table when he sees you’re close

and he never lets you cum

UNFAIR (how much he likes to tease)

big tease energy

there was one night he was so frustrated that he teased you to tears 

he edged you so much that one thrust and you were cumming around his cock

he’s a tease in day to day life and in the bedroom go figures

but when JJ is trying to show you how much he loves you he never teases

he worships your body and will give you orgasm after orgasm until you’re a shuddering mess

VOLUME (how loud is he? what kinds of sounds he makes, etc)

JJ mostly just groans and swears under his breath

he says he doesn’t want to drown out all of your beautiful sounds with his own moaning

but your favorite is when JJ growls softly in your ear, or when he sucks a harsh breath in through his teeth when you clench around him

you’re the noisy one in bed 

and that’s the way JJ likes it

WILD CARD (random headcanon)

when you first started dating, JJ was actually really evasive about how many partners he’s had before you

he would get really quiet whenever you asked him and would never directly answer the question

until you cornered him in the Chateau, demanding to know how many people he’d been with 

“4...” his voice was soft, and he wouldn’t lift his eyes to meet yours

that was more then you were expecting, but you couldn’t be mad at him

he was single then and had completely cut off every girl he’d ever had sex with the second you two started dating

so you immediately forgave him which was a huge relief for him

X-RAY (let’s see what’s going on under the belt)

JJ is packing

a good 8 inches when he’s fully hard 

and he’s decently thick too

his cock reaches places inside you that make your toes curl 

JJ has never really described himself as someone with a big dick, but once he saw your eyes widen when he first had sex with you

he thought maybe he might be bigger than average

which you love

there’s always a delicious stretch when he first enters you

YEARNING (how high is his sex drive?)

JJ is down to have sex whenever 

he loves having sex with you and has a stupidly high sex drive

he needs sex at least twice a week or he’s going to be grumpy 

so it was sort of an adjustment when he first started dating you

because it was at least a month until he took your virginity

so he was pretty grouchy for that month that he wasn’t having sex

he didn’t mind though because he was dating you and that’s way better than sex

ZZZ (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?)

JJ doesn’t fall asleep too quickly after sex

but since he does most of the work during sex, he’s usually pretty tired

but when he lays down with you, he will spend a few minutes talking to you before he falls asleep

he can last a good 10-15 minutes before he’s too tired to keep his eyes open

so you curl into his chest and fall asleep in his arms

heaven :)

[hawnks]

Party Attire 

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

r18 (mdni)

wordcount: 1,600

my drabble for the valentines day exchange uwu. for @some-kindofgnome hope i did your wants justice. smooch. 

warnings: dom/sub undertones, oral s** (giving & receiving), edging, spit, size kink

.....................................................................

He’d warned you about that skirt. 

In the hall outside the bathroom of the four star restaurant his parents invited you to. Crowding you against the posh wallpaper. Fingers digging into the skin just below your hemline. Admittedly, it was pushing the boundary between business chic and let me get railed on my five break and then meet you back here to talk about the budget requests. A cute, pink pleated number you’d thrifted a few months back. The weather had just turned right to wear it with some knee socks. It was fun and flirty, you thought. A little daring, sure, but not enough to draw any attention that was too salacious.

Katsuki had other opinions. 

“We get home, I’m fucking you so hard you won’t be able to form a coherent thought for days.” 

He made good on his word. And after pampering you a little bit (no thinking required with your boyfriend literally carrying you wherever you needed to go), Katsuki passed his final judgement on your dinner attire. 

“No.”

You put on your best pout, waggling the (now very stained) skirt at him. He slapped your hands out of his face, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the swish of the fabric, or how they fell to the marks he left on your thighs. 

“Throw that shit out,” he groused. 

You know he would never actually dare to tell you what you can and can’t wear. You also know he had a soft (and inexplicable) spot for that particular outfit. So you don’t feel bad about tucking it away for a rainy day -- after a very thorough washing, at least. 

Now seems like the perfect occasion to break it out again. 

Your boyfriend hasn’t been home in three days. The two of you keep up a constant back and forth over text, but you could tell the stress is beginning to wear on him, his responses getting pricklier and shorter the longer he’s away.

Finally, you get the message you’ve been waiting for. Home in ten.

Just enough time to get ready. 

You hear Katsuki pull into the garage. He likes his cars fast and loud, which has never bothered you -- but the sound of the motor cutting out has your heart thundering in your chest. You’re seated on the plush couch in the den. You’re not sure if you should arrange yourself pleasingly or just plant yourself. You try several poses before you hear the front door open and shut, and Katsuki appears in the doorway, peering at you through the dimmed lighting as you struggle with one leg on the floor and one off. 

It’s an uncomfortable position, and you can’t extract yourself without doing a bit of an awkward shimmy, which you suspect is endearing but not exactly seductive. Finally you end up with your legs hugged against your chest, your eyes trailing over to your boyfriend as he watches you, not moved from his spot by the entrance.

He’s in civilian clothing, sweats and a dark t-shirt, both perfectly fitted. It’s the first time he’d changed from his hero uniform in days, and the loungewear feels strange on his skin. Unnatural. 

He leaves his coat on the floor in a heap, forgotten as he finally starts stalking toward you. His expression is bland, impassive -- but you catch a glimpse of interest in his eyes before your gaze darts, landing on his thighs. They’re massive, just like the rest of him. Sometimes you catch yourself watching him on slow days, as he leans over the stove, or grabs something from the top shelf from you, just marveling at the sheer size, the strength of him. It’s like he was designed with you in mind. Like he was made to make you feel small. 

You can feel the divine heat of him as he stops before you, knuckles brushing your chin up until you meet his gaze. “Cute.”

You lean into his touch, and he cups your cheek, thumb petting the soft skin. “Missed you,” you say.

“Oh, yeah?” He stares at you for a second, the arches and slopes of your face. His thumb continues stoking, moving ever so slightly until he’s rubbing your bottom lip, dragging it down until he can see the dark color of the delicate inner skin. His forefinger creeps in, prodding against the soft point of your canine before finding your tongue. He presses down, a gentle pressure, but one that won’t let you ignore it. “Prove it.”

Your tongue presses back against his finger, licking around it, sucking. You do all of this without modesty, groaning when he presses back, gagging when his finger sinks deeper, edging toward your throat. 

Katuski has big hands. You know that -- how could you ever forget that every part of him is a mountain -- but it’s moments like these that remind you just how big. How much bigger than you. How well he can fill you, in any way he chooses.

Your teeth are held open against his knuckle, and strings of drool begin to trail down your cheeks, land on your chest. Katsuki takes all of this, you, in with red eyes hooded, his other hand clenched at his side until he can’t hold himself back any longer.

With one arm he picks you up by the waist and repositions you, laying on your back beneath him as he straddles your midriff. He wipes the spit from his index finger off on your cheek, peering down at you as you let out another low whine.

“Impatient, huh?” he murmurs. At your eager nod, he grins, all teeth. “Guess I gotta show you who’s in charge here.” 

One hand on the arm of the couch, the other cradling your chin, he crawls up your body until his hips are hovering over your face. 

He lets go of you for just long enough to rip down his sweats, cock hard enough to tap his stomach, just from playing with your tongue, then his fingers are back on you, teasing open your mouth. He grits his teeth as you so willingly let him tap himself against your tongue, a dab of precum already budding at the tip. 

You’re caged in by him from all directions, his thick thighs framing your temples, his hand stroking his cock in slow jerks just above your face. You should feel smothered—instead you feel intoxicated, drowned in his and his domination, and your lips continue to part further and further as he teases you, until you’re gaping and he’s grinning down at you. 

“That’s it baby,” he hisses, nudging his cock in (finally in) to the warm cavern of your mouth. 

He’s too big for you to take all of him like this, laying down, his legs splayed over you, but he continues to prod at the back of your tongue, his hips rolling in a firm, shallow rhythm. He edges himself in your mouth, pulling out and letting his cock smack gently against your cheek, smearing precum and your own spit across your skin. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice worn thin, self control fraying. “So goddamn cute.”

Twice more pulls out just before cumming, smearing your face with your combined slick, groaning as his hips jerk against your jaw. 

With a hiss he crawls off you, goes to his knees on the floor. In less than a second he’s manhandled you into the position he wants, hips hung off the couch, your whole body supported by his strong arms. With a wicked growl he flicks your skirt up, then he lowers his face. 

Nothing Katsuki does could ever be considered sloppy. He’s perfect, sometimes maddeningly so. When he’s between your thighs he does things with a brutal finesse, one that you appreciate to the fullest extent. But what’s happening right now can only be described as messy. 

He still knows how to treat you right, the exact pressure to make you buck, the spot inside to stroke with his index and middle finger while his other hand squeezes the meat of your thigh just this side of painful. But all of that is interspersed with split seconds of ravenous mindlessness. There are moments you don’t know what’s happening because it’s all so much, before he pulls you back in with a perfectly timed tweak of your clit, a particularly firm thrust. 

And when he pulls back, just before you reach your peak, once, twice, three times, his praise is gravely and soft, his eyes have that mean glint that you hate love. 

“Too soon, princess?” he says. 

Or, “I told you to be fucking patient.” 

Or, “Look at you, so fucking fucked. Just let me take care of things baby, I got you. Fuck that look on your face. So good for me—“

And when he finally (finally) let’s you cum on his tongue, he’s quick to follow after. You didn’t even know he’d been jerking off while he was eating you out, but you watch him rise up onto his feet, keeled over as he spends right on your pretty pink skirt. 

He takes a moment to just look at it, you, all fucked out, a loopy smile on your face. He doesn’t think about what does it for him, how he likes how delicate you are compared to him, or how sometimes he just wants to fuck you up a little, how the urge lives closer to the surface when he’s stressed. Like today. 

He runs an index finger through the cooling puddle caught in a pleat of your skirt, brings his wet finger up to paint your swollen bottom lip. 

He says, “Was thinking about Italian for dinner tonight.” 

[vavuska]

Who changed Lola Bunny?

Malcolm D. Lee explained, “This is 2021. It’s important to reflect the authenticity of strong, capable female characters. … So we reworked a lot of things, not only her look, like making sure she had an appropriate length on her shorts and was feminine without being objectified, but gave her a real voice. For us, it was, ‘Let’s ground her athletic prowess, her leadership skills, and make her as full a character as the others.'”

(See the complete interview here: X)

So, gone are her curves, thigh-high drawstring shorts and midriff-baring crop top. Instead, Lola Bunny now takes on a sportier look wearing a more standard basketball vest and leggings under her track shorts.

But, let's see more deeply what determinated this choice:

1. Being mad at a fan art is sad, people.

Before, a sad 50 yo guy starts complaing about how "cancel culture" or "politically correct" ruined his life - Really? Changing a cartoon bunny from a movie you didn't see for a decade ruined your life? Wow. Someone should really review the list of their priorities -, let's see how really Lola looked in the 1996 original Space Jam.

Here we have original Lola Bunny:

(Here you can see all Lola's scenes in Space Jam: X)

Yes, Lola walked in a sexy way that show off her curves, or at least she seemed to have curves (a little breast, tight waist, long legs, bootie), but those are not big as in the fan art you are seeing around, and Lola's curves are not evidenced during the match or when she played. Is more her attitude and posture that made her look sexy. However, althought her curves clearly changes every time she is doing something different, from action to action, there are some scenes in which she is purposely made sexy, with saxophone music as soundtrack and male-gaze sections that ends in the same way, Lola surrounded by a bunch of horny and howling cartoon guys.

That's appropriate with Jessica Rabbit: she is purposely made and designed as a parody of the femme fatale from old hard boiler movies, in which attractive, mysterious women were portrayed as evil and manipulative gals who hide criminal intentions. Jessica, with her intentionally exaggerated body, subverted the misogyny of 40s and 30s detective movies: she is kind-hearted, truly loves her naive and goofy husband Roger and uses her powers (beauty and cunning) to protect him. Her body too is used for comic sketches, while this not happens for Lola, that's just a serious and indipendent basketball player. So, the male obsession for her body is out of place, expecially because she reacted with anger at being misconsidered only for being an attractive female bunny. “Don't call me doll” is her catch phrase. So, it seems strange she didn't react at all at the very sexualized presentation at the final basketball match: Lola simply shows her basketball skills, ignoring or accepting passively the reaction of the honey crowd of wolves around her. (Please, notice the association: Lola “admirers” are wolves, predators, while Lola, their object of desire, is a rabbit, a prey)

This is the cartoon version of cat calling: they are like a group of men who sit on their porches and whistle at girls everyday when they walk in from of them. A normal girl or woman would pass over this thing, even if they are bothered, unconfortable or embarassed, because they are more scared by a possible violent reaction of this whistling horny guys at their legitimate anger objections. But here, we are talking of Lola, a strong Looney Tunes bunny, and she could smash that damn basket ball on wolves' face, breaking all their teeth. That would be very a Looney reaction. But Lola doesn't react at all at this situation. Here, on my opinion, screenplayers missed an opportunity, but probably they thought to have already did too much with Lola's personality and “girl power”.

Remember also that Lola is the only young cartoon female character we see in the whole movie. So we can't do a proper comparison with other female relevant characters' rapresentation. (See here for a deeper analysis of Lola's origin and development: X)

However, compared with Bugs, Lola looks more fit, more humanized than Bugs. Lola has clearly a definited breast and booty, but it looks like is more her posture that makes them relevant. Lola has clearly shoulders back to show the rack. Bugs is anthropomorphic but remains an animal, has no shoulders or pectorals more like a human and looks a bit over-weight (fat belly). And his posture don't keep that stomach in, chin up, and march forward.

Lola, on the other hand, has a more human structure. That's why I say she has curves. An example are Mickey and Minnie who are two beans in the same way it is not that Mickey is a bean and Minnie has small tits, they are structurally alike.

Lola's body remembers highly No-Ribs-Jasmine from Aladdin (see the gif for reference). That unrealistic Barbie-like waist that was so popular in the 90s and 80s. (See here for references: X and X)

Now, we are changed a lot from the past 24 years. Barbies didn't have that impossible, unrealistic waist-line anymore, Disney princess concept has changed (see Merida and Moana).

Lola concept is changed in 2012: her design for the new cartoons is totally different and her personality too. She wear a blue or violet dress, almost flat-chested and she was made annoying and silly, just to make a contrast with Bugs smarter. Just like Daffy Duck is dumb as hell and his new girlfriend, Tina Russo (no more dear old Melissa Duck), is way smarter than him. Tina is tough, street-smart, rebellious and feisty. But we will see this thing in the next point.

2. People on the upper floors hated Lola personality.

Lola Bunny had only few lines in Space Jam, but she definitely passed the first impression that she was draw only for make male characters fall in love. Lola was a good basketball player and show it off, in front of a skeptical and then astonish bunch of cartoon guys and also Michael Jordan. She also had a strong personality and said it clear to Bugs she didn't like being called "doll". Lola was beauty and curvy, but not a cheerleader. Lola was a basketball player. Remember this part, because we will talk about basketball in the next point.

If at the box office Space Jam was a success, at Warner Bros there were those who turn up their noses, and they are important people, from the upper floors, who accused the film with Michael Jordan of having completely distorted the philosophy of the Looney Tunes. They blamed Lola Bunny more than everything else. Producers of Warner Bros said she was too perfect for the moody group of Warner cartoons: she was too sensual, provocative and independent, totally alien to that core of crazy characters that act as an exaggeration of the vices of 'man.

And fans hated her too. Chuck Jones, creator of the Merrie Melodies said: "Lola Bunny is a character with no future, she’s a totally worthless character with no personality."

So, Lola Bunny was deleted. Lola would make only some brief apparitions in some comics edited by DC Comics, in Baby Looney Tunes, in which she was a toddler with a very similar personality and resemblance to Space Jam adult version, and also as playable character in some unsuccessful videogames.

Years passed and projects for a sequel of Space Jam never become reality, so in 2003 Warner Bros relased Looney Tunes Back in Action. But Lola wasn't here, because the movie purposely want to make a deep cut with what we saw in Space Jam, according to what said it's director Joe Dante. This movie was a totally failure, but it gave back to Looney Tunes their craziness.

Years passed again, but this time is 2011, 10th of May on Cartoon Network was relased the second episode of The Looney Tunes Show. The series aimed to strongly relaunch the Looney Tunes, long gone from the glories of the past, updating the stories of Bugs Bunny and associates in a sitcom key, with the rabbit sharing a house with Daffy Duck in a suburb of Los Angeles. All interspersed with sketches by Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner done in CGI and the updated return of the Merrie Melodies. But the big news of the second episode is that LOLA BUNNY RETURNED.

And Lola was a character with some relevance within the series, even if something didn't seem right with her. Lola looked different, she was no longer the rabbit version of the femme fatale seen in Space Jam: she was naive, talkative, with her head in the clouds, crazy to the point of becoming Bugs Bunny's stalker. Bugs after having fallen in love with her at first glance understands on the first date that he absolutely can't stand Lola. She is no longer the Lola we used to know, even if the appearance is similar and the name is the same. Lola is effectively a Looney Tunes now. And the fans like her, the public like her, Warner Bros like her.

(See Lola in The Looney Tunes Show here: X)

But this is a big walk in behind from the indipent character we used to know in Space Jam. Lola was turned into the stereotype of the crazy girlfriend for a while. And this is not a surprise, if we remember that in 2012 were popular the "overly attached girlfriend" meme template. (See here for references: X)

However, in The Looney Toons Show Lola has some very funny moments, while in Space Jam she was more serious and a little out of space among the other characters. (See here for references: X)

3. What women wear when they play basketball?

Women's National Basketball Association was only created in 1996. So, women's basketball were not considered - and still is not considered - as important as men's basketball at the time Space Jam was filmed.

In Space Jam 2 there will be WNBA players with a significant role, for example Diana Taurasi and Nneka Ogwumike.

Professional female athletes aren't that curvy because curves are determined by body fat and they have a little.

As a busty volleyball player, I can say, dear people, breats could be very annoying during sport activities: it could be a pain, when you run or jump. That's because a lot of women wear sport bra to compress and support their breast. Sports bra may also include layered cups or a high neck to keep everything in place and protect from painful hits, so women can be safe and comfortable during workouts.

Female basketball players didn't wear crop-tops and tight shorts to play. They wear exactly what Lola wears in the picture above: long sleeveless tees, large shorts and maybe protective gears such as knee pads, sleeves or braces to reduce chronic pain caused by the immense burden put on the knees in basketball, to prevent bruises caused by collisions and hard fall and to provide support after a significant knee injury like an ACL tear. They could wear also compressive arms sleeves to help muscles that are sore or overworked to recover faster. The sleeve enables your blood flow to circulate quicker to the heart, which helps you heal and recover quicker.

Wow. WNBA wears Exactly what wear NBA players. So surprising.

4. This is only a promotional character sketch, not what Lola would look in the movie.

Space Jam 2 would be developed in CGI and there are a little preview frames going around, included one showing Lola jumping and you can see her breast shape. But she totally looks like a comic cartoon character. It's not humanized. It's not designed to be the sexy love interest. She doesn't look out of space among the others anymore, expecially because seems that there would be also Tweety's Granny and Melissa Duck or Tina Russo as players too.

5. Reality.

Really? You want a human anthropomorphic rabbit? Well, Lola as a rabbit would have something like six nipples, but no human-like breast. And, also, real life girls have ribs. No one in real life is that thin. Oh, well, if you don't considered Pixee Fox, a model who had surgically removed six ribs and wears daily a compressive bust corset (yes, like the one that made Elizabeth Swan faint in the first movie of Pirate of the Caribbean) to look like a cartoon fairy (Tinkerbell, you are the one to blame for this).

(See here for references: X)

In conclusion, we can say that all this controversy is based only on a porny fan art and that Lola “new” graphic isn't change too much from the original Space Jam movie. It's just a little more cartoonish.

We can also firmly remeber that Space Jam 2 is going to be developed for children, to relunch Looney Tunes among new generations of children, who are the largest buyers of merchandising (including Happy Meals surprises) and consumers of new cartoons that surely would be developed, if Space Jam 2 would be a success.

However, we should admit that those kids probably know better the 2011 version of Lola than her original version and that 2011 version was more appreciated by fans and producers. Lola's voice actress, Kristen Wiin won BTVA People's Choice Voice Acting Award in 2012 and was nominated for that prize also about three times in the following years. Also Rachel Ramras, Lola's voice actor was nominated for BTVA People's Choice Voice Acting Award in 2016 for her role in Looney Tunes: Rabbit Run.

We don't know anything about Lola's personality in Space Jam 2, so we can't do a proper comparison or a prevision, but, according to what Malcolm D. Lee said, we can assume that original personality of Lola would be preserved.

The controversy is relevant only for Lola's body and not for her personality, and that's is highly rappresentative of what impressed more this bunch of grow-up kids. They grow up to be like the horny wolves and they are howling because their prey is not available anymore.

And, to be honest, being so obsessed with the breast and the body of a cartoon character (that is clearly made up for kids) it's not sane at all. Sorry to say that, but sometimes people need to drink from a bottle of truth.

[letitrainathousandflames]

(click for better quality!)


AO3 Link


Cody places the chest plate over his sternum, allowing the magnetic clasps to attach the piece to an equally plain one over his back. It feels strange, the lack of protection over his lower body. His midriff remains unprotected under the overshirt.


“This feels… unsafe.” he grumbles “Too Exposed.”


Rex hands him the kama with a small grin, the little di’kut. Of course he and Wolffe had mocked him over it, how he was finally gonna wear one like they did. While Cody ties the thing in place, Rex points a finger at him.


“Listen, senator Organa told us to keep it simple. You’re not headed for battle, vod.”


“He might just be.” Wolffe quips with a low growl, handing Cody his belt “There isn’t one kriffing person in there that’ll be happy to see a clone in the senate floor.”


Cody sighs with the belt in his hands. Again, too simple. No thermal detonators hanging from it, much less his holstered blasters. Just a plain strap of leather shielded by plastoid plates.


He reaches for the arm guards over the table, running his finger over its grooves. The senate. How much did they know about the soldiers fighting and dying for them off-world? How did they feel about their existence? Senator Organa said they might listen to him, but what are the odds of him being forcefully escorted out like a droid speaking out of turn?


What if he is actually putting them all at risk? If the kaminiise start thinking that even their Marshall Commander is starting to sound like a traitor, how long before they arrive to the conclusion that the clones were a failed experiment and that it would be better to terminate every single one of them?


His eyes drift over to the carefully folded cape, to the names that he had personally embroidered on its inside, thinks about how no cape, no flag, no amount of fabric would be enough to actually get all of them, thousands upon thousands of men lost to this endless war.
Rex walks up to Cody, glances at him to then gently bump his hand guard to the commander’s.


“Me'bana, vod?”


Wolffe steps over to his other side brushing his shoulder to Cody’s, and the three of them stare at the names on the fabric as Cody unfurls the cape, spreading it some over the table. The three of them look at it in silence, reading and associating each name to a face, to a voice, to a personality. There are some of Wolffe’s men, lost to the Malevolence’s attacks; some of both Rex and Cody’s men, all lost in Umbara, several of them to friendly fire. And many others, as many as Cody could manage to fit in such a small space.


That piece of fabric is the only concrete form of remembrance for these men without graves or monuments. Clones can only trust their memories to keep the history of their brothers alive, and it makes Cody’s heart ache.


“Ni chaabar.” Cody says quietly, and it was only in their Mando’a that he could find it in himself to explain his feelings “I could end up getting us all killed with this.”


There is a small moment of silence, and then Wolffe sighs.
 “We are already getting killed. Every time we fight we lose dozens, hundreds, sometimes thousands of our vod’e in battle, or we watch them die in the medbays.”


Cody turns to face Wolffe. The commander, as many other clones, was never fond of speaking more than strictly necessary, especially about the bleak conditions in which they all lived and fought in; Maybe it was to protect himself, maybe to protect his men. Maybe it was just his way of managing to cross the tightrope of war without ever looking down. But now he speaks - and Cody listens.


“They’re keep lowering the age of drafting.” Wolffe traces  with his gaze the embroidered name of a wolfpack trooper lost to the Malevolence weapon “First it was by a few weeks, then months, and now…”

Cody notices him poking his cheek with his tongue, shaking his head almost unnoticeably. Wolffe continues:

“I was nine when I was sent out to lead my battallion. I was scared but I was grown and ready.” Wolffe continues, eyebrows creased in a weave of confusion and barely-hidden anger as he turns his eyes to cody “Last week I received word of new batches coming out, most of them eight, a couple of them barely there. The kaminiise are sending out a bunch of still-growing kids to fight before their standard training is even done. We already have accelerated aging to fit the needs of the Republic, but this? This is just sick.”


“And we can’t say a word about it because we aren’t a people, technically.” Rex adds sheepishly “We can’t say a word about being forced to work overtime. Can’t say anything about being paid in ‘special GAR’s credits’. Or about the overcrowded dorms, or the need of longer breaks, or mental healthcare, or entertainment, or a life outside the army.”


Rex runs a hand over his cropped blond hair.


 “We are loyal in a way most governments only dream of.” he continues, eyes sharp at Cody “We live and breathe and fight and die for the republic, and we are all proud to do so. But we need to believe that we receive back at least half of the high regard in which we hold the Republic. We aren’t asking for much, and the Republic has denied us the right to even ask.”


And, after a small pause, Rex swallows down, and his tone shows how much he knows he’s risking just to say it.


“Do we risk death for our freedom, or do we continue to live as slaves?”


“Rex.” Wolffe says in a warning tone 


The two of them know of Cody’s loyalty to the Republic. When the idea of having him speak against it in the senate even came up, Cody’s first response was to accuse them of threason. It had taken long enough to convince him to find the narrow path between his fear-based respect for the Kaminoans, his dedication for the republic and the jedi, and his love for his brothers.


Cody frowns to then run a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes and speaking between his teeth.

“I’m not a slave. I love my duty. I love the Republic!”


Maybe he should just give up on this. It was all a huge mistake, he had allowed Wolffe and Rex to drag him along with this nonsense. He could just turn his back on this and get back to the barracks, to his armor, to his command, where he belonged…


He opens up his eyes, and the very first thing he sees is one of the names in aurebesh in front of him, drawing in his gaze like a trance.
 
Waxer. How could someone with such a kind, gentle heart be so deadly in the battlefield? Cody remembers him, the eager cadet that would always be seen hanging out with his batch brother Boil. Waxer had a heart soft enough to make him adopt a lost child in the middle of a war zone, to pet and feed stray animals and let them in their cover when it rained. He would make such an amazing parent, Cody could almost envision him holding a tiny bundle in his arms, just like Jango would do with his own. He would love his kid with all his heart… 


If he had lived to have them. Instead, Waxer died in a dark world, fallen to a brother’s blast, crying in pain and fear as Rex had reported it.


Wordlessly, Cody puts on the vambraces, then the arm guards. Lastly, he takes the cape, brushes his gloved thumb over Waxer’s name. He owes it to him. To them, all of the Clone Army of the Republic. He owes it to them to at least try. Cody throws the cape over his shoulders, securing it in the straps on the inside of his chest plate.


His brothers look at him with pride, and it makes his heart swell. His comlink rings, and Bail Organa’s voice comes through it: 


“Commander Cody, are you ready?” 


Cody looks at Rex and Wolffe, draws in a deep breath. 


“Yes.” 


“I’m about to announce you to the senate. Remember - keep your opening statement short and fast because we don’t know what will be their reaction. And, from personal experience: if they try cutting your speakers up there, just carry on by shouting the rest of your statement. Good luck, my friend.” 
Cody chuckles, pressing the comlink. 


“Good thing that us commanders are good at shouting.”


-


Mando’a translations:


Di’kut - Idiot

Me'bana, vod? - what’s the matter, brother?


Ni chaabar - I’m afraid

-

Senator Cody picked up from several bits of headcanons across tumblr. I highly recommend checking the #senator cody tag on @transmikecrew​‘s blog bc it’s honestly the best and his writing is *chef’s kiss*

[sapphicquill]

TAZ Balance: the truth will set you free

(ao3 link!)

Rating: Teen 

Characters: Taako, Kravitz, Magnus

Wordcount: 2942

“You’re fuming, dear.” 

Taako turns to look at Kravitz when the reaper speaks, trying not to let the thin frown fall off of his face at the sight of his uncharacteristically smug dead boyfriend. From his spot as Taako’s personal body pillow, Magnus laughs quietly.

“I can’t believe he convinced you to teach him this shit,” Taako says with an exaggerated huff. The elf crosses his arms tightly across his chest, sticking his chin up haughtily to hammer home his petulence. Magnus laughs again, the vibrations of it rumbling through Taako’s back like a purr. Taako very courteously does not throw an elbow backwards into the fighter’s stomach, despite how much he would enjoy doing just that. Kravitz lets out a hum, smirk not quite leaving his unfairly handsome face. 

“It’s not my fault Angus got curious about multiclassing as a bard,” the reaper finally says. And, as much as Taako was loath to acknowledge it, Kravitz is right. Taako groans theatrically and pointedly does not actually respond like an adult, because fuck that. 

Angus had approached Taako after one of their lessons together--much less frequent than they once were, before Lucas had gotten the idea to start up a small magic school, but Angus seemed content to return to his first (and clearly superior) tutor whenever the chance presented itself. But instead of asking for some sage wisdom or deeply insightful advice from Taako himself, Angus had asked for confirmation that Kravitz had been a bard before becoming a reaper, then begged for Taako to bring him along for their next lesson. 

Kravitz had been over the moon when Taako begrudgingly explained the situation, and the reaper wasted absolutely no time in devising a lesson plan for the boy detective. Taako had to work especially hard to keep from swooning over his boyfriend’s enthusiasm and instead sulked to their other boyfriend about the cruelty of life. (Magnus had been very little help, the bastard. Taako left with a disgruntled whine when the fighter started theorizing on how to convince Ango that learning some rogue skills could be helpful too, the absolute traitor.) 

“You want to know what I think?” Kravitz asks after another moment of silence. Taako frowns as he finally lets his gaze meet the reaper’s eyes directly. 

“Not particularly, but something tells me you’re going to keep talking anyway, you dick.”

“You’re jealous.”

Taako feels himself freeze for half a second before he can pull himself together. Damn Kravitz for knowing him so well. Damn him and Magnus for making him feel comfortable enough to even let himself be read that easily. Damn them both.

“Oh fuck right off, you’re full of shit,” the elf tosses back almost automatically through gritted teeth. 

“Hey, play nice,” Magnus teases, poking Taako in the side. The unexpected jab sends a fluttering shockwave through the startled wizard, who squeaks before he can catch himself. Kravitz continues to look on smugly, not breaking eye contact with Taako as he scoots further up the bed and closer to the other two. 

“You’re very precious when you get all wound up like this, love,” he murmurs. Taako shifts, instinct telling him to pull away and hide, to clam up and put up an even harder front. A quiet voice that sounded worryingly sweet and comforting tells him to just come clean to the both of his boyfriends. It wasn’t like they didn’t know he was secretly a soft, if somewhat emotionally-deficient, sap. Magnus had definitely figured it out somewhere along that first hundred years, and Kravitz was frighteningly perceptive.

A sudden weight around his waist distracts Taako from the beginning of whatever bullshit emotional spiral he’s about to fall into, his body automatically pulling against the sudden restriction. Though the warmth of Magnus’ arms encircling him from behind sends an innate sense of calm through him, the elf nearly pulls something in his neck as he whips his head toward the human because Magnus, what the actual hell. Magnus has the decency to look a bit sheepish, but resolutely does not let go. 

“Mags…” Taako growls, narrowing his eyes and trying to look intimidating despite the growing fluttering of excitement in his stomach. He’s quickly figuring out Magnus’ plan and is now desperate to not show his hand because fuck, this got different, fast. This somehow turned into Taako goading his boys into absolutely wrecking him for being a stubborn piece of shit, which he hadn’t even considered as an outcome when this mock argument had started. Now, however, his mind is three steps ahead, already craving the feeling of his partners’ touches driving him insane.

Because here’s the thing—Taako, maybe, kinda, sorta actually likes getting tickled. He absolutely would never say as much, even under pain of death (and he is really familiar with how  fucking painful death can be), and the only other being in the multiverse that probably knows is Lup because, duh, twin sister or whatever. So it was always imperative Taako never let on in any way he didn’t exactly hate it when Magnus and Kravitz, whether alone or together, decide to tickle him stupid. He would probably implode from the embarrassment—and what a dumb fucking way to go after everything else. No, that wouldn’t do at all. 

Thus, it’s second nature for the elf to throw out menacing glares and cutting threats, which is exactly what he does as he feels Magnus flex his fingers and rest them at the center of his stomach. He’s unable to resist flinching at the sudden light touch to his bare midriff, though—damn, why did he and Lup convert the majority of his wardrobe into crop tops? 

Movement at the other end of the bed catches his attention, so he redirects back to Kravitz, face pinched and pout sufficiently exaggerated. 

“It’s quite alright, Taako, really,” the reaper says, affecting the tone he usually saves for puppies and small children, the absolute ass, “You’re allowed to want to be Angus’ favorite.”

“Shut up, I do not—” 

The remainder of Taako’s protest is swallowed by a sharp gasp as Magnus draws his fingers across Taako’s stomach with a quick flick

“Do you really think you’re in any position to be bitchy right now?” the human says, smile evident despite his gruff tone. Taako feels his ear twitch as Magnus’s breath skates across his skin and it takes every ounce of concentration he has to not shiver or let out a breathy half-laugh. Instead the elf remains as still as possible, frown almost ridiculously exaggerated and eyes narrow slits focused on Kravitz. The reaper adopts an over-the-top pout—no doubt meant to mock Taako’s own expression—and draws ever closer to Taako and Magnus. 

“Magnus, maybe you could help me convince our beloved to be more honest, hm?” 

The words have barely left Kravitz’s mouth when Taako feels Magnus begin to slowly drag his fingertips across his exposed stomach. Tiny zings of tickly sensation burst across Taako’s skin like low-level electricity and somehow keeping still and silent is the hardest thing Taako’s ever done in his life. He can’t, however, keep the warm bubbling feeling of anticipation and excitement from flooding his entire body, and that, of course, makes keeping still even fucking harder. 

Magnus’ fingers trail lightly across Taako’s abdomen before slowly gliding up his sides. Without really meaning to, Taako squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will himself into a trance by force. This clearly amuses both of his boyfriends, as their joint chuckles echo in stereo in the sudden darkness. Taako feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move and he’ll cascade off the side and plunge ten thousand feet—

Then Magnus’s devilish touch reaches the top of his ribs and the dam breaks. 

A steady stream of hiccuping giggles pours from Taako as Magnus gently skitters light tickles across one of Taako’s absolute worst spots and even without looking, the elf can tell that his boyfriends have both got gleeful expressions on their stupid fucking faces. He squirms, trying in vain to block out the torturous sensation of Magnus’ fingers or escape their attack altogether, but that just seems to encourage the fighter. Feather-light scritches instantly turn into fast, fluttering pinches and quick vibrating prods and Taako would be embarrassed about how quickly he dissolves into full-fledged laughter if he wasn’t so busy absolutely losing his mind. 

“Ready to admit you secretly adore Angus yet, love?” Kravitz asks from far too close, Taako can tell he’s almost pressed up against his chest, but fucking of course he isn’t. He can practically hear the mischievous grin in the reaper’s voice when he shakes his head. 

“You leave me no choice, then.” 

Over the sounds of his increasingly frantic laughter, Taako can hear Kravitz speaking the incantation for Zone of Truth, and he’s sure Krav’s crimson eyes are sparkling with mirth. The unique sensation of enchantment magic washing over him barely phases the elf—he’s too preoccupied with Magnus’ deft hands flitting up and down his ribs to really pay it much mind. Taako squeezes his eyes even tighter and attempts to focus on resisting the truth spell, gasping around his laughter, trying to push past the way his nerves feel like they’ve been set alight so he can focus—

And then promptly fails his save. 

Of course he fails his save. How could he possibly concentrate on resisting a Zone of Truth from a powerful ex-bard-turned-Grim-Reaper with Magnus’ fucking fingers skittering across his abdomen, drawing squeaky, desperate laughter from him like water from a well? 

“Now, come on, dove, be honest with us.” 

And then Kravitz is tickling him too, on top of concentrating on a fucking spell, his nimble musician’s fingers skittering ruthlessly across Taako’s hips, and it’s impossible to think about anything other than the fluttering in his stomach, the laughter forcing its way out of his lungs, the pleasant fuzziness already clouding his mind. He can’t even remember Krav’s question, really. Taako’s brain feels like it’s been filled with cotton (but like, in a good way) and he can barely string two thoughts together before giving up thinking altogether. 

“Admit it, Taako, tell us the truth,” Kravitz purrs directly into Taako’s ear and even that tickles like hell, and between that and the two pairs of hands currently wreaking ticklish havoc on him, it feels like every wire in Taako’s brain is crossing simultaneously. He wants this to end and also never wants this to end, why can’t his boyfriends wreck him like this constantly, it’s not fair—

“Tell us, Ko, come on!” Magnus whines, seemingly trying to match Taako’s usual petulant tone as he drills his fingers into the wizard’s underarms and knocks his laughter up at least ten decibels, and that’s what pushes Taako to open his big, stupid mouth. He means to say something about the dumb boy detective, he really does, but instead all he can think about is Kravitz and Magnus making him scream and laugh and thrash around with teasing words and fluttering fingers and, well—

“I—I—” Taako’s voice breaks on a laugh, brain going a million miles an hour and also stuck in the mud simultaneously.

“Yes dear, that’s it, come on, out with it,” Kravitz says while rubbing incessantly ticklish circles into Taako’s sides. And that finally pushes an answer out of Taako, who manages to push through his laughter long enough to speak. 

“I fucking like being tickled, okay?—Shit—!”

Suddenly, the two pairs of hands on Taako’s skin still, and as his laughter slowly dies down, the full impact of what he’d just actually admitted to hits the elf like a cartload of bricks. Fuck. Shit.

Weirdly, instead of instant fiery panic, Taako is filled with a sense of...calm? It’s like someone hit pause on the entire fucking universe. Taako keeps his eye closed and resolutely doesn’t think about what just happened; doesn’t think about anything, other than a burning sense of mortification and the deepest desire for a hole to open up and swallow him up. 

“Nope, okay, that’s—I didn’t—no, fuck this,” Taako mumbles as he sits up, easily breaking out of Magnus’ hold. With eyes still closed he leaps up from the large bed and has half a mind to burn a Teleportation spell to get as far away from his boyfriends as possible before feeling a cool hand wrap around his wrist. Taako can identify the feel of Kravitz’s touch almost alarmingly well, and normally he sinks into it without more than a few grumbled faux-complaints. Here and now, the wizard doesn’t instantly pull his arm from Kravitz’s grasp like he desperately wants to, but he doesn’t move toward him either. Instead, he keeps his eyes closed and pretends he’s literally anywhere else. 

“Taako, wait,” and that’s Magnus’ voice, the one that always makes a small part of Taako melt because it’s so full of genuine love and affection and care and fuck, he has to open his eyes and face the two men he actually definitely loves, shit. He braces himself, not exactly sure what expressions might adorn the faces of his boyfriends but he’s prepared for the worst. 

The first thing Taako sees when he opens his eyes is, unsurprisingly, Kravitz, as the reaper is closer to him. What does surprise Taako is the look Kravitz is giving him. The other man looks—apologetic? 

“Taako, I’m so sorry,” Kravitz starts, and Taako feels his heart stutter a bit, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I should never have cast Zone of Truth and forced you to tell us that.”

And that—

That’s not what Taako had expected to hear come out of Kravitz’s mouth. He’d more or less thought, at the very least, he’d get laughed at. Made fun of. Belittled. Shamed. This is—far from all of that. 

“I—what?” 

If it had been any other time, Taako would have congratulated Krav for actually rendering him fucking speechless, because that’s a rarity. As it is, Taako can’t do much of anything aside from gape, gaze not leaving Kravitz’s crimson eyes. 

“The spell, it didn’t compel you but it forces you to be truthful, and you clearly weren’t ready to tell either of us that you—” 

At this, Kravitz seems to pause, looking like he’s attempting to phrase his words as carefully as possible while still turning over this new information in his mind. Luckily, Magnus, as he always seems able to, picks up right where their Grim Reaper leaves off. 

“You’re totally waiting for us to roast you or something, aren’t you?” 

Fuck, has Magnus always been this perceptive? Taako could have sworn he was oblivious as all hell but no, this is the man he’s known for over a century, of course Magnus knows all his tells. 

“Well, we’re not going to,” the fighter barrels forward, always fucking rushing in, and Taako isn’t sure whether he wants to dive back onto the bed or Misty Step to the front porch to call Lup on the Stone of Farspeech and just scream. 

“Why would we? It’s not like you’ve told us something weird or bad or anything,” Kravitz adds, finally out of his own head. He sounds a little frantic, like he desperately needs Taako to believe him and fantasy Christ, Taako loves him for it. 

“Honestly, it’s kind of adorable,” Magnus adds. Taako finally cocks his head enough to meet the human’s eyes and he’s known Magnus long enough to tell when he’s lying. 

He’s absolutely not lying. 

The sense of relief that Taako expects to flood through him comes in waves. His heart is still beating a million miles an hour (which he hadn’t even noticed, fuck) and it still feels like he could cook a five course meal using only the heat collected on his face, but his desire to run and hide and sulk is retreating, and the space between Magnus and Kravitz is looking more and more inviting by the second. 

It’s the most natural thing in the entirety of the planar system for Taako to lower himself back onto the bed and resume his position lounging against Magnus. Quiet descends on the room and it’s warm, comfortable. 

“We should probably have a real conversation about this later,” Kravitz says, and Taako surprises himself by humming in agreement rather than groaning in protest. 

“Later,” he concedes, and then Magnus is shifting again and Taako’s about to grouse about how a moving pillow is a pretty shitty pillow when—

“So if you actually like getting tickled—”

An involuntary shudder shoots down Taako’s back at this, at Magnus’ voice curling around that word, fuck, and suddenly the great brute’s hands are back on Taako’s ribs and his fingers are slowly tracing Taako’s skin and it’s like a bolt of lightning through his entire consciousness. 

“Then you won’t mind if Krav and I get back to work, huh?”

Despite quickly being overcome by tittering giggles, Taako can sense a voiceless conversation happening over him, and then Kravitz is back in his space and his hands are inching up Taako’s thighs, squeezing and stroking lightly as they go. 

“Yes, Magnus is right—you never actually told us what we really wanted to hear, love,” Kravitz purrs, mischief and affection so clear on his face that there’s no room for Taako’s anxiety to even attempt to convince him of something horrible.  

So instead of spiraling into a pit of despair, Taako revels in the wide grin pulling at his lips, savors the electric sensations rippling across his nerve endings, and laughs. 

[ikorous]

Slow Show

Post Hogwarts Dramione One Shot.  Rated M for explicit content.

"Draco slowly dipped his head down and kissed her shoulder while pulling the strap just a little farther down her arm. He could feel the goosebumps rise under his lips." 

AO3

Fanfiction.net

Wattpad

Slow Show

Draco leaned back on the bed as Hermione pulled one of the diamond earrings out of her ear, dropping it carefully into a large jewelry box on the vanity where she sat in front of a silver mirror. She started on the other one and he curled his arm behind his head, watching her remove the heavy stones from her soft body.

"It was a beautiful ceremony," she said, continuing the conversation they had struck up after leaving the reception much later than he had planned to. He had to practically drag her from the woodland clearing the happy couple had hosted their wedding in.

Hermione had argued that since he was the best man and she was one of the bridesmaids, they couldn't just run off without seeing the reception completed. He pled his case that he couldn't stand here and look at her in that dress for hours without hauling her off into the twilight woods and having his way with her. She retorted with a twisting smile and told him to "Be good, Draco," to which he replied, "You know I am."

He relented eventually, seeing how happy she was celebrating her friend's nuptials and sipped on some shimmering purple punch that was surprisingly strong as he watched the dusk light up the gold in her braided curls. Britain's wizarding elite had gathered, draped in their fine silks and showing off their family heirlooms along with a number of the war heroes still highly celebrated even all these years later.

It had been the event of the season and as happy as he was for his friend, all Draco wanted to do from the minute Hermione had slipped on her midnight blue gown adorned with golden stars was to peel it off her body and slide himself into it. The reception had been trying, to say the least.

But at least he got to spend a good amount of time spinning her around the charmed forest dance floor, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and watching her blush and squirm against him.

Hermione stood up and opened the wardrobe before pulling at the straps of her celestial gown.

Draco jumped up from the bed, landing gracefully on his feet and in two long strides stopped behind her, placing his hands over hers and stopping the straps just as they reached the curve of her shoulders.

"Allow me," he said in a soft voice. Hermione paused and Draco glanced up at the mirror in front of them to see a small smile beginning to form on her lips. Her hands slowly fell from under his to rest at her sides and her warm brown eyes rested on the reflection on his silver ones in the mirror as Draco slowly dipped his head down and kissed her shoulder while pulling the strap just a little farther down her arm.

He could feel the goosebumps rise under his lips.

His long fingers gently pulled at the straps until they were hanging down by her elbows and the gown was making a valiant effort to stay on her body. Hermione took a deep breath and Draco trailed his fingers back up, over her skin, and to the nape of her neck where her necklace still hung.

"You were saying something?" he drawled, pretending he didn't notice the effect he was having on her.

"Yes," Hermione breathed out and blinked a few times. "Wasn't Luna beautiful? And Theo… I've never seen him that-" she sucked in a quick breath as Draco started on the zipper down her back, drawing out its journey down to the small of her back. "Well… you saw him tonight."

"Won't forget it either." He rolled his eyes and reached back up to start pulling the pins out of her hair as Hermione held the dress to her chest, keeping it in place. Not for long, my love. Draco smirked to himself then added, "To call that dancing is a crime against wizard kind."

Theo had met Luna a few years ago while Draco and Hermione were still dating. He had told Draco how he thought the dreamy blonde was cute after they had all gone out for drinks a few times, but Draco hadn't realized that the offhand comments were actually a deeper attraction growing in his friend. Six months ago he had asked her out and three months later they were engaged. Hermione had been thrilled, knowing the trouble Theo had with his family after the war and Luna had brought joy back into his life.

As soon as Hermione had seen them together, her cinnamon brown eyes had sparked and her chest filled with a deep breath. She clasped her hands together in front of her as Draco chuckled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and he felt the excitement coming off of her in waves.

He had to admit; he hadn't seen Theo laugh like that or… even smile that much, not until he was with Luna. It was nice. Theo had never fully recovered from losing his father in the war and Draco had spent many long hours talking with him, about memories, about Quidditch, or about anything Theo needed. He was glad to see his friend find some peace with the woman he loved. Salazar knew Draco had found his with Hermione.

And Theo doted on Luna, indulging in all her whims and fancies. Following her around with eyes almost as large as Luna's and sweeping her into his arms just to kiss her for no good reason other than he was madly in love. Luna always laughed and smiled, touching his face gently and whispering so low no one but her now husband could hear, bringing a silly smile to Theo's normally sullen face.

Theo had carried his bride to a carriage pulled by some strange creatures that looked a bit like oversized oranges with wings and beaks and took to the sky, heading off on their honeymoon in Thailand to explore the jungles and look for something that Draco didn't even bother to try and pronounce and Hermione vehemently argued wasn't real. But she had still kissed Luna on the cheek, hugging her tightly and wishing her well before Theo scooped her up.

As soon as the carriage had left the ground, Draco was pulling Hermione through the crowd. Intent on getting his wife home where he could fulfill the carnal promises he made her on the dance floor.

"I thought it was sweet. And anyways Luna always did dance to the beat of her own drummer. Theo was just… trying to learn her steps," she giggled a little, eyes shining in the silver glass as he finished pulling the braids from her hair and let them tumble down her bare shoulders. He breathed in deeply, smelling the rich scent of her perfume.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He loved to take off the fine gowns she wore to social events. Loved to pull out the pins from her hair and run his fingers through her curls as they fell loosely around her. Loved to kneel down and slip the heels from her feet before sweeping her off of them and carrying her to their bed.

"You think everything is sweet," he said dismissively, trying to keep the hammering in his chest under control.

"You can't honestly say you aren't happy for them," Hermione retorted. "Yes Theo was… exuberant, but people in love always are.

"I suppose," Draco said drolly and slid a finger down her spine.

Hermione scoffed and his eyes cut back up to hers in the mirror. "Draco," she said seriously. "Do you not remember hiring a dragon to take me up on only to have it breathe fire and light up 'Will you marry me?' on the ground below? Exuberant if I've ever seen it."

Draco smirked and moved his hand back up to the back of her neck and debating with himself whether to unclasp the necklace or leave it on her chest so it would bounce with the movements of his thrusts. "Well, it got you to say yes that time."

Hermione rolled her eyes this time, but the small smile grew just a little. Draco decided to leave it on. He liked seeing her in jewels. Especially ones he had bought for her.

"It was what? The sixth time you asked me?" Hermione tilted her head to the side slightly and narrowed her eyes playfully.

"Seventh," Draco answered.

"You're not counting that first time when-"

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against him. "When we were drunk and I was fucking you in the back of that Muggle car you used to drive around? Yes, I'm counting that."

Hermione flushed pink.

"As I recall, you almost said yes." Draco breathed out, making a few curls ruffle beside her face.

"I said a lot of things that night."

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her midriff, holding her. "Oh, I remember."

"I don't know how," she tucked her face down in embarrassment. "You were stone drunk. We both were."

"I could never forget our first fuck."

She slowly blinked her eyes, letting her dark lashes brush across the tops of her cheeks. "My husband, the romantic."

"That's right," Draco said, sliding his hand up to hers and pulling slightly, making the gown slip dangerously low on her chest. "You bring it out in me."

She smiled again, her cheeks pinking as she glanced up to see him smirking back at her.

"Now I want to bring these out," he said huskily and pulled her hand down farther, letting the midnight blue gown slip over her slender frame and pool at the floor around her golden heels.

Draco hardened behind her.

Where the fuck she had found panties that small he had no clue, but he would buy one of every thing in the shop if it even looked half as good as these did on her. Hell, maybe he'd just buy the company so they could exclusively make lingerie for her. Either way, she was going to need a new pair because he was going to tear these apart with his teeth.

Draco cupped her breasts, kneading them with long fingers until her breathing quickened. He could feel her skin heating up against him and fought the urge to watch his hands on her in front of the mirror, electing to keep his eyes on the twin pools of deep brown that were darkening with desire in the silver glass. When her mouth parted slightly to allow a small gasp Draco's thumbs and fingers moved to her hardened nipples, rolling them skillfully before giving them each a soft pull and causing another breathtaking gasp to slip from her.

"Let me have you," he murmured into her ear, breathing out against it. "I was on my best behavior tonight. I want my prize."

"Were you? You spent half the night at the punch table with Blaise and the other half pawing at me-"

Draco tightened his fingers on her nipples and Hermione let out a weak whimper.

"Would you rather I be bad then?" he asked in a husky voice. "Because I'll fuck you against this mirror and make you watch your own face as you come, or-" he snaked a hand down to her rest under navel. "I can lay you down on our big, soft bed and use my tongue for even better things than getting you wet on a dance floor."

"How do you know you got me-"

"Oh, I know, my love," Draco said in a low voice, gazing deeply into the reflection of her dark eyes. "Just like I know you're going to let me lick you clean."

Her eyes opened wide and stared back at him.

"Yes," Hermione whispered back, brows pulling together in want. "Oh, God, yes…"

Draco bent his knees and swept her up in his arms, carrying her over to the bed and laid her down softly, watching as her body sunk into the thick blanket, bare except for the necklace of golden stars, her tiny panties, and gilded heels that were sinfully tall. He stepped back to admire her, this gorgeous woman in his bed that finally allowed him to call her his wife after years of chasing her.

He pulled his shirt from his shoulders, tossing it to the floor and his trousers followed after. Draco climbed onto the bed and pulled her legs up, and knelt in front of her. Kissing her ankle, he slowly made his way up to her creamy calf, relishing the taste of her skin.

"Draco, my shoes-" Hermione started.

"Leave them on," he growled. "I want you to dig those heels into me when I'm fucking you."

"Oh, God." She pushed her head back, letting her loose waves spill out onto the pillows behind her. She looked like a Queen, surrounded by a crown of curls and adorned in gold. And he was her loyal subject.

He switched legs as he reached her knees, trailing his lips over the smooth skin of her thigh and resting her legs on his shoulders as he slowly bent himself lower towards the place he had been trying to reach all night and now only a little piece of fabric was keeping him out.

Draco breathed out as he reached the apex of her thighs and felt her tremble. He grazed his lips over the fabric, he was just about able to taste her through it and planted a small kiss right in the middle. Hermione breathed out deeply, letting all the air leave her lungs in a wistful sigh. He sucked on them causing a sharp intake of breath and when he had enough of the wet fabric in his mouth, closed his teeth around them and started to tug.

Hermione used her legs on his shoulders to push her ass up from the bed so the last bit of clothing easily slid from her body. Draco growled in appreciation as they moved down her legs easily. He could taste her on them and sucked at them as he continued to pull them down. He paused when they reached her knees and looked down at his wife under him.

Desire darkened her burning cinnamon eyes and he bit down harder, grinding the thin fabric in his teeth before yanking them back quickly and ripping them over her heels and pushing her legs back open.

"That's the third pair of underwear you've ruined this week," Hermione said, trying to sound forceful, but her flushed cheeks gave her away.

Draco shrugged. "Stop wearing them then."

Leaning back down, Draco pulled her thighs around his head and felt the tips of her heels resting below his shoulders. Finally, he had her right where he wanted. Pulling his eyes away from her center only long enough to watch as sparks shot off deep in her gaze, Draco ran his tongue along her fold.

A shaking breath left her and her head fell back against the pillows again as his own fell deeply between her legs. He kissed her lower lips the same as he would the ones higher up, letting his tongue slowly part into them. She opened easily for him, but he still worked his tongue over her as if she was not already ripe for the taking.

She tasted sweet and tangy, a wonderful combination that he dove in deeper for, trailing the length of her fold, spreading the creaminess over her and mixing it with his own saliva before gathering it back up with his tongue and drinking it down. Her breath was getting quicker and he ran his tongue inside her slit as his lips gently caressed her sensitive skin.

She gave a small twitch when the tip of his tongue touched the bud hidden away. Draco had to stop himself from grinning as he ran his tongue around it in gentle strokes, breathing out heavily onto her. He moved himself lower, towards her opening and found it soaked again. Dipping his tongue inside, he collected the fruits of his effort and trailed them back up to enjoy them on the bundle of nerves he had left quivering in his absence.

He flicked his tongue over her, bringing her closer with every swipe. Hermione let out a breathy moan, barely more than a whisper, but enough to drive him on. Draco rested his arm on her lower stomach, spreading his hand out over her to part her farther with his fingers then opened his mouth over her and let his tongue work itself back and forth, up and down until her little moans turned higher and quicker.

He shifted his tongue, coaxing her on with broad, flat strokes then switching to short, little laps, nodding his head as her hips began to move up, trying to meet him.

Her noises grew louder and he felt a deep ache of his own as his body called to claim hers. Her thighs were shaking around his head, closing in and muffling the ever-increasing sounds coming from her. The last thing he heard before they clamped around him, trapping him against her was Hermione desperately calling out his name.

Draco licked at her, keeping the same pace until he felt her start to convulse and gradually began to soften his tongue's swipes, knowing she was growing more sensitive with each one. He wasn't sure how long it took her to release her thighs from around his head, but the sound of her deep breathing and whimpering moans flooded back in as he kissed her to completion.

He placed soft pecks against her lips, her skin, her thighs as he slowed and sat back up. He could feel her on his face and ran his tongue around the edges of his mouth as he gazed down at the sated and satisfied woman below him.

Hermione's face was turned to the side, her eyes barely closed and chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.

"Good enough for you?" Draco smirked and her burning brown eyes fluttered open. All she could manage was a nod and a small noise of approval. He chuckled as he leaned down over her, not letting their bodies touch just yet. She reached up and ran her hands over his chest and around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down onto hers and giving another small moan as she tasted herself on his lips.

Draco felt his muscles contract and a deep throbbing of his own need hanging just inches away from her. He extended their kiss while pushing her slightly under him, getting her body in position for him and spreading her legs wider with his knees before placing himself on top of her.

"This is going to be fast, okay? I've been at half-mast since our first dance tonight and I need this. Now."

Hermione nodded, swallowing and moved her hands down to his chest and around his sides to hold on, knowing it was going to be quick and rough and urgent. Draco lined himself up with her entrance, pressing the tip of himself against her warmth then leaned down to capture her mouth with his again.

"Wrap your legs around me," he said in a hoarse voice and glanced down at the gold and jewels resting right above her bare breasts. Hermione hiked her legs up, pressing her knees above his waist and locking her heels across his back.

He couldn't stop the hiss that escaped him when he slid himself inside her, every muscle in his body tightening as he moved himself back and forth, speeding up quickly. Hermione's nails dug into his sides and back as she gasped with each thrust. He placed his hand on the top of her head, holding her under him as he pushed harder and deeper into her core.

Hermione was whimpering, gasping out moans in between heavy breaths. Her body moved under him as he quickened his pace, unable to slow down. He could feel her closing in around him and groaned as her warmth squeezed him. "Fuck, Hermione," he breathed out, starting to pant as a pressure built deep inside him.

"Just…" her breath caught in her throat. "Just a little more, please…"

Draco let out a low moan from deep in his chest. He couldn't wait much longer, his body was calling for a release and she felt so good around him, letting him dive into her as deep as he wanted, as he needed. She had done what he asked and the points of her heels were digging painfully into his back, pressing in harder every time he pulled himself back just to plunge back down into her. Fuck, he loved that feeling.

He crashed his mouth onto hers, driving himself into her faster, faster, faster. She tightened her thighs around him and he felt her walls close in on him, shaking with pleasure. She moaned something that might have been his name, but his lips didn't leave hers long enough for her to form real words.

He couldn't hold back anymore. She was clenching him and his blood was racing hotly in his veins. "Shit, oh, oh!" Draco pulled himself from her at the last second and spilled himself over her center, watching as he shot more and more, his body feeling weaker as his heart beat loudly in his ears.

Hermione was panting, trying to come back down from her second orgasm when he ran two fingers up her slit, gathering what he could of himself on them and lifting it up to her open mouth.

"Your turn." He grinned, grey eyes shining. She opened her mouth and he slid his fingers inside. Draco couldn't breathe while her tongue slid around his long fingers, sucking them clean. He felt his cock twitch again and slowly pulled his fingers from her mouth, running them over her lips and savoring their soft wetness.

He shifted slightly, resting his body on the bed next to her while simultaneously snaking an arm around her waist to keep her body against his.

"God, Draco…" she sighed and turned her head on the pillow towards him. "I can't feel my legs."

He grinned at her and sat up, picking up one of her legs and pulling the golden heel off of her foot and then did the same to the other, dropping them over the side of the bed. "Lift your head," he commanded and unclasped her necklace when she did so. Hermione's head fell heavily back down onto the bed of curls splayed out over the pillows.

He tossed the priceless piece of jewelry somewhere, hearing it clatter into some corner. With the last bit of his strength he pulled a throw from the bottom of the bed up, covering up his beautiful, satisfied, and exhausted wife.

"Sleep, my love," he murmured, kissing her hairline. Hermione gave a small moan and let her long lashes close over her deep eyes. He settled down next to her, pulling her into the crook of his arm and she nuzzled her face into his chest. Draco ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and when her breathing changed into slower deeper ones, he gently pulled on her long curls, lifting them up and letting them fall back down.

He felt sleep weighing heavily on him, muscles loosening and limbs weighed down. He rested his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes, using the last few seconds of consciousness he whispered, "I love you, Hermione Malfoy. My wife. My love."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this. Also I would like to give a special thanks to mysweetorangetree for helping me name this fic and being an amazing person in general.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

KoH!Tom x Male Reader Blurb

A/N: In the past few weeks I’ve been playing this game called Hades, and completely and utterly fell in love with Zagreus 😍 I mean... Look at him... I couldn’t help myself and envisioned Tom in such attire. And so this short blurb was born. 

Forgive me! I can’t stop thinking about it! I’ll go back to regular content soon 😉

Words: 2404

- - - - -

Moist and warmth roll after you the moment you first set foot from underneath the shower. The colder air immediately nipping at your exposed skin. But nothing beats a refreshing warm shower to start the day. With a quick rinse of your towel, you slap around your waist and turn into your room. You open your wardrobe in search of underwear. It had to be there somewhere.

Rummaging through as you sense an odd tingle, a jolt shooting up along your spine. Something close to a shiver. But it wasn't the cold fresh air getting a grip on your naked body.

"Hmmm… That's a good look on you (Y/N)." A voice, somewhat deep and teasing, sounds behind you. Followed by a sinister chuckle. "I like it..."

"Holy-!" You jump scare, turning around on the balls of your heel, covering your mouth with one hand. Keeping you from blurting out any more. You blinked once, twice, and thrice. But your eyes didn't deceive you. "What the…?!" Your other hand caught the towel just in time. Taking a step backward, bumping into your wardrobe butt first. Almost letting the towel fall to the floor again.

A mischievous smile and eyes sparkling as you had never seen before stared directly into yours. It captivated you. The way he seated himself on the edge of your bed, with such calm and ease. Lounging like he owns the place. It's unnerving. "Yes…" He says, tilting his head to the side. "Yes… You should walk around like that more often." His smile broadened with contempt as he eyed your naked form, top to bottom.

"Wh-..." Your lips move, but no sounds come from your throat. It takes your mind a few seconds to comprehend what was happening and get yourself together. "How'd you get into my house?!" You ask, somewhat aggravated while shaking your head and trying to blink away the image before you. But to no avail. He was as real as they get. "Is this some kind of joke? Who the hell are you?"

"You don't recognize me?" He says, raising an eyebrow.

"No, of course I don't! If I would, I'd reacted differently!"

"That's fair." He nodded. "You know…" He grunted lightly. "I don't have much… time-..." Speaking with a slight interval in his sentence... "-...in this mortal realm of yours."

"Mortal… realm?" You reply, annoyed, eyeing the shirt from the corner of your eye. It lay crumpled together on the closet, within arm's length. "Speak up. You're freaking me the fuck out."

"(Y/N). I'm here with good intentions. Only took me some time, years actually-..." Raking his fingers absentmindedly through his hair. "-to find you." His smile was contagious. Something about it, the way he wanted your attention, it cooled your sudden anger. "You hid well (Y/N)."

"I didn't… I'm here. Always have been. Just... tell me what's going on. And… what are you wearing?" Eyeing the very much revealing attire he wore.

"I only need a little bit of your time." He pursed his lips into a small smile. "You can start by calling me Tom." The way he spoke his name had a certain ring to it. Like a tug at the back of your mind. A tingling running up your spine. A ring of familiarity. The way he looks at you, as if he's searching for a reaction. Your guts feel rearranged, entangled in something you haven't felt before. Your eyes are drawn to him. And the more you give your eyes the time to look. The more you want to. Something pulls you to him.

The man sitting in front of you was truly something. You had never seen anything quite like it before. He is broad, muscular, a physique you've only seen in the movies. The muscles were big and tempting to look at, the way they tensed and relaxed under his movement. The man himself wore not much more than you did. From his shoulder ran some sort of a robe—an unusual style of clothing. What you can see are two layers of cloth— both of stark contrast to one another yet satisfying to the eye: a deep dark crimson red and the other black, as dark as night. The black one covered most of his body. Its edges were ornated with a gray line and odd symbols. The second red layer sat atop the black one. Both running slanted from the shoulder downwards to the belt, covering half his chest and stomach. It ended up tucked underneath the belt, and the remaining of the cloth covered his waist and that which sat beneath. He wore no pants, nor shoes. He is just like you… scarcely dressed.

This clothing reminded you of the Greeks and their Gods. The robes hang loosely from his figure, thus showing a lot of his physique. This much skin, bare and about, was confronting at first. And you can't help but stare. It all fitted so well together. The lines, curves, and shapes all coalesce together perfectly. He's like one of those statues you see in a museum. He's stunning. Perfection. In every possible way. Sculpted like, through, and by the Gods themselves. His chest is big, with one pec in the open. Down that smooth and galant line of his robe showed the smooth ridges and valleys of muscles. It displayed much, and the man seemed to hold his physique with pride and confidence. As he slowly leaned to the other side, giving you more to look at what was hiding underneath. It's breathtaking to gaze upon.

You only notice as you try to peel your eyes off of him. The room itself seemed darker, intensifying the colors he somehow emitted. You don't understand any of it at all. But it draws your eye. And it keeps your attention. It's so random, and yet… satisfying to watch. Your eyes slide upwards to the source of light, past the exposed collarbones and strong neck leading to his head.

It illuminated the small space surrounding him. A hue of orange, yellow and red cast upon the wall, dancing like flames. There was no draft in the room. Yet small laurels, ember bright and glowing, detached from the wreath that wrapped around his hair. Once detached, it twirled up into the air and slowly burned out like a cinder from a fire—curling and twisting into itself before disappearing into thin air.

"Did something caught your eye?" He taunts with a seducing twist in his voice. "Is it my clothing?" Running his hand along the lining, down from his hip to his shoulder. The way he did was almost like a tease. As his hand ended up at his shoulder, he pulled the cloth back into position. It looked regal again. Almost official. Yet it felt like foreplay. You wanted to see more. It's as if he knew. "Or what's underneath?" He continued with a grin spreading across his face.

"I… don't know." You stammered, licking your lips nervously. Feeling your cheeks color with blushes. "I haven't… seen something… or someone… like this… before." Your heart raced inside your cavity. Blood pressure rising. "I'm pretty sure…"

"Take a good look." He leaned forward, allowing the cloth to slowly slide from his shoulder again. Giving you more to absentminded gaze at again. "You had something similar." Reaching underneath the layered fabric to scratch his chest, breaking your line of sight. In response, shooting your eyes back into his. "But I've always preferred this…" Eyeing your bare naked body again.

With two fingers, he dismissively gestures towards the shirt you were reaching for. But completely forgot once your eyes and mind were occupied elsewhere. "No need for that."

You jerk your head towards the shirt as it spontaneously bursts into raging flames. Consuming it at a rapid pace. You release a yelp, afraid the fire might catch something else. But within a blink or two, the shirt had burned up without affecting the rest. The ashes dwindling away from existence with a gust of sudden air out of nowhere. "Wh-...?"

"You look mighty fine as is." He said. "I suggest you don't open any drawers for... more clothing." He groans again, holding his midriff, trying to get himself together. "Now…" He continued with his dark seducing voice. "Did something come back to you? When you… looked."

"Holy shit… !" You curse loudly. "Y-Your… You're some kind of… God?"

"Something like that." He smirked. "But far from holy." Rising to his feet with his arms hanging beside him. He seemed to be on the short side, but now you finally got to see the whole picture. The real proportions and volume of his muscle now really began to show. His abs and chest. Veins running on his lower arms. "Think (Y/N)." He pressed on. Pulling you from your daydreaming again. "Can you remember anything?" He actually looked menacing. As he stood up, the belt around his waist came into view. Panic suddenly hits you as you notice various white stones with carved smiling skulls depicted on his belt.

"No-No-No!" You hold out one hand, trying to keep him at bay. While the other barely held the towel in place and your back pressed against the wardrobe. "I… I don't remember! Please!? I don't! Please?! J-Just… just leave me be!"

"(Y/N)..." The way your name rolled from his mouth. With such calm and coolness. The way he carried himself, step by step. Careful and slowly. "Nothings going to happen to you. On the contrary..." He said, stepping even closer to you. "I'm going to help you." His voice had a peaceful and reasonable tone. You automatically lower your arm as he comes in reach. Something withholds you from touching him.

"I… don't… W-With what...? With what... are you going to help?" You feel your hairs rise, the air stock in your throat. He was so close. 

"You..." He hesitated for a moment. Clearly rethinking what he was about to say. "I need... you back…" His breathing got hampered. "And it's… Please… (Y/N)...Nnggh…" he groaned as he averted his eyes. His entire body shook for a moment before returning his gaze. "Listen…" Taking one final step forward. Making the whole conversation up close and personal. "My time here is… s-short… and I want you to show something." His eyes draw you in. You hang to each and every word that falls from his lips. So close, he's even more impressive to look at. 

"I… I... don't understand..." You stammer, watching him with big eyes. "I've always been here… And… never knew you?" With every fleeting moment of silence, and your eyes captivated by his, you begin to feel caught between the wardrobe and him. If you could move, you maybe would. But somehow, you didn't. Only the tingling sensation on your thighs snapped you out of glaring at him. You look down, past your fingers holding the towel, and panic hits you again. The orange and red glow of sundering flame reflected in your eyes. Slowly consuming the towel. "What are you doing?!" Your eyes dart up and down from the towel to him. "Tom! Talk to me!"

"I'll... help you… remember." Before you manage to react, two fingers lift you by your chin. It's him. Even closer. Standing merely inches away from you. You meet his eyes up close, and for the first time are truly realizing the beautiful features of his face. It's gorgeous. The angles, the lines. The proportions, they match perfectly. Drowning in his eyes. They're deep and meaningful. And there's something in his eyes you have never seen before with anyone before. 

Words fall short from your mouth as he moves closer. Ghosting dangerously close to your lips 

"You'll soon... r-re...member what… once... w-was." He whispers, almost like a spell, it captures you. Tantalizing you. His breath fanning across your skin. "Fr...agments. Glimpses-s... of the… past." A reassuring smile was more than enough. 

"C-Can't… you tell me?" 

"It doesn't work that way…" He grunted. "You'll understand soon enough."

"I… I… Tom?"

"Close... your eyes..." He interjected. Slightly tilting his head to the side.

"And if I don't…"

The touch of his lips upon yours sets things in motion you had never experienced before. Your eyes closed as he said you should, and you follow in the motion. The soft, warm cushions of his lips dancing against yours. It's slow at first. With both his hands cupping your cheek. He has full control. He knows what he's doing.

The conversation must have taken only several minutes. But your body has cooled down quickly. And you only notice that once his lips are sealed with yours. Like the morning sun touching upon your skin. A fireplace coming to life again. A spark igniting what once was. This glowing sensation boiling from deep within you. A warmth is flowing through you. A jolt of life dashing through you. You feel alive. Better. Stronger. 

It's unheard of.

"I… I… w-will… return…" He grunted against your lips. "And I… I'll… keep… d-d-doing… this…-" Until his lips part, resting his forehead against yours. The brush of his fingers, stroking along your cheek. "-Until… y-you… remember…” 

Your eyes shoot wide open. A gasp of air sucked into your lungs brings you back once more. Your vision scans left and right throughout the room. The light hitting your eyes again. But the visage of the man was gone. One hand holding onto your member, no towel in sight. You pull back the other hand in surprise, hanging there mid-air before you, as if reaching out for something or someone. You swallow the lump in your throat as the images flashed through your mind again. But it's vague, distant, and ...new?

A laurel, bright in color and familiar to the ones you saw earlier, dwindled through the air in front of you. With two fingers, you grab it, afraid it might burn up like the one you saw. Between your fingers, it felt warm to the touch. The texture was gold-like. Smooth and shiny. Yet, it didn't disintegrate. A confirmation that what just happened was real. It filled you with more questions than answers. But above all, you felt alive. As so did your body. In your other hand, your member had stiffened at the thought of the man. Tom. A shuddering breath left yout shaking body. A strong, aching itch started to arise.

He better return.

[adiarose]

Destiel Headcanon #9

The first time they kissed, it was mutual. They moved together.

They were in Los Cruces New Mexico because a nest of vampires had been hunting around the rural areas. The victims necks were violently bitten, the area of skin they bit into was pulled off of their neck and spat beside the victim. It was...violent. There have been four victims so far. All of them are related. Two sisters named Elsie and Marissa. Their cousin Florence, and uncle Danny. A pair of fifty year old twins, Marvin and Nicholas were all that were left. They owned a horse farm by the edge of town. A greying stallion named Lee as well as a brown fowl named Dakota had been killed in warning. Torn apart in the dead of night. Police were investigating but of course didn’t know what was really happening. So Team Free Will went to check it out.

Dean and Castiel had become a couple before (a story for another time) but they were yet to kiss. This was for a couple reasons. One, as comfortable as the two had always felt around each other, the change in what they were “allowed to do” made them feel nervous. Two, Dean didn’t know exactly what Cas wanted or expected out of this relationship. A more than platonic life companion? And was he asexual? Pansexual? Bi? Gay? Dean didn’t know how far to take it or how far to not take it. The same went for Cas. From what he knew, Dean took pleasure in women. But he agreed to this relationship. It was possible that romantically he could go for both sexs, but sexually, or even for just a kiss, he favored females.

And they, the stubborn and ever awkward bastards that they were, didn’t have that discussion. So at the impasse they lay, that is until the hunter and angel found themselves fighting a losing battle against twelve vampires.

Why is it only in these moments? The ones where they come so close to death that they make one final effort to say that which was unsaid. They had slayed all the vamps. But Dean was lying down on the ground, midriff having been cut with a ten inch knife held by one of the vamps while Cas’s grace tried to replenish.

Cas had just hung up on 911 whom he had called desperate for an ambulance to help the hurt Winchester. He tossed the phone to the side, keeping a hand on Dean’s shoulder. The one that used to show the print from when he raised him from hell. He shook it, trying to keep Dean conscious.

To try and distract Dean from the pain, Cas began to speak. He talked about everything under the moon while the ambulance took the eight minute drive to the horse farm. There was some light talk such as food he had enjoyed as a human. He had a certain preference for peanut butter sandwiches, no jelly. And coffee with A LOT of creamer. He talked about the tv show friends. He had only seen the first two seasons, but he liked Phoebe the most. She liked animals and was nice.

But then Dean said his name. Drawing Cas out of that rambling haze he had been stuck in for the last six minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

“Cas...Cas. It’s okay. It's okay. I’m right here. And if you think some damn vamps with a horse fetish are gonna take me down, you’re a fool.” Cas gave a weak little smile at Dean’s attempt at humor. His attempt to make Cas happy. So they stared into each other's eyes, before eyes started to dart toward one another's lips.

Cas looked into Dean’s eyes one last time, asking for permission which was met with a little nod. And they went towards one another. Dean liked Cas’s stubble. He could feel it as he kissed him. So Dean held the side of Cas’s face to keep both of them steady.

It was...it. It was there and it was everything. Dean could definitely feel the difference between kissing a man and a woman. Cas’s hands were big against his neck and cheek. His chest was flat. And of course that damned stubble. But there was also the fact that it was Cas.

Cas’s history with relationships was far more limited. There was the reaper he had slept with. Eh. There was Meg whom he kissed. And he had liked her at the time. But this was Dean. And that made such a damn difference.

It wasn’t some Earth shattering moment. It was soft, and it was loving. There was just something about it that made the hunter and the angel so damned happy.

The ambulance picked Dean up. They sewed him up at the hospital while Cas dealt with the vamp bodies and called Sam to let him know that the location they were to check out, did have the vamps. But everything was okay.

Cas was allowed to see Dean pretty quickly. After all, it was just a one inch deep slash. Nothing compared to the other numerous wounds Dean had received before.

“Hey.” Dean greeted with a smile, playing with the buttons that controlled the tv.

“Hey.” Cas responded. “Are you alright?” “It's me. Of course I am okay.”

Cas looked down quickly, preparing himself with a breath before talking fast again, taking a final step towards Dean’s bedside..

“Look about what happened back at the farm. If I misread something I didn’t mean to-”

Dean silenced him with a kiss.

[yandere-daydreams]

I’d really love to see darling just teasing the hell out of deku and just toying with his feelings knowing he had a massive crush on her but would never try anything... or so she thought ;))) maybe bang it out in the detention room idk lol all g if this prompt doesn’t spark ur interest, have a good one! ❤️

While I try to avoid writing nsfw stuff for requests, I do like the idea of Izuku getting affectionate with his would-be Darling… hopefully, this’ll suffice.

TW: Non-Consensual Touching, Emotional Manipulation, and Threats of Violence.

~

Monoma had been the one to put you up to it.

He’d said it would be funny, and for weeks, it was. One of the top students in 3-A falling head-over-heels for a stain on the Support Course, All Might's personal golden boy tripping over himself to get the attention of someone who barely had a quirk at all, it was like fate fell to its knees in front of you and begged you to take advantage of the situation. You’d been skeptical, at first, but it was shy, adoring puppy-love, the kind of sappy romance that made a man shove love letters under your door when he could hardly manage to talk to you in-person. Turning him down entirely would’ve been heartless, and you couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy the attention, both from your classmates as you laughed over the newest ‘anonymous’ poem and Izuku himself.

You felt guilty, occasionally, but it was just a harmless joke. Your intentions weren’t pure, but you thought Izuku would look back on his stumbling attempts at romantic gestures and laugh with you. Monoma told you that these kinds of things always ended well.

It didn’t feel like a joke anymore, though.

Izuku’s hands were stronger than you realized, leaving indents when they moved from your waist to your thighs, his strength enough to hold you up regardless of what he decided to hold onto. His chest was too warm, broad and pushed against your own, radiating more heat whenever he attempted to close the nonexistent gap between the two of you. He’d gotten tired of your lips minutes ago, finding sanctuary in the crook of your neck, the sound of violent kisses and your meek whimpers echoing throughout the (mercifully) empty classroom. Shoving didn’t phase him, so you were left to tangle your fingers in dark curls and pray he noticed the way you were tugging at his scalp, or how tense you were, or anything about the person underneath him.

If he cared that you were uncomfortable, he didn’t make a point of showing it. You’d wonder if he cared about you at all, if you weren’t so afraid of finding out the answer.

You were lifted without warning, dragged away from the wall Izuku had pinned you to and dropped onto the teacher’s desk unceremoniously. The vantage point was high enough for Izuku to force your legs apart, quickly filling the available space. He braced himself on the wooden table-top as his attention returned to your jugular, his affection turning more intense than it had been. “M-Midoriya,” You called, your voice cracked as he bit into your skin, nothing cushioning the feeling of his teeth piercing your neck. There’d be a mark, tomorrow, if not a puncture wound. “Aizawa could come back--”

“He won’t. He never does.” There was no hesitation, no reluctance, only a firm affirmation and a blinding smile, Izuku perking up to better stare you down. He let out a nervous laugh before he continued, momentarily averting his eyes, his confidence wavering with a rub to the back of his neck. “I… I’ve been in trouble a few times, so I know how this works. Aizawa lectures us for a few minutes and says he’s going to be gone for a second, but he always falls asleep in the teacher’s lounge until the end of the hour.” He brightened, again, drawing you closer and squeezing your side playfully. “Which means we have tons of time together. Isn’t that great?”

Something inside your chest tightened, coiling around your lungs and going taunt. One burst by the time you spoke, you were sure. “I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. We’re still in public--”

“Why’s that?” The question was posed with an innocent chuckle, and you almost believed he didn’t know what he was doing. “Would it be so bad if someone saw us? I know they’ll spread rumors, but maybe they should. That way, everyone’ll know we’re together.” He paused, pecking your lips, the gesture as fleeting as it was giddy. “It’ll save time, when we finally make it official.”

You tugged at his hair again, subconsciously, and Izuku leaned into your palm, the action as reflexive as your own. “I’m not sure if I want that,” You admitted, preparing yourself for an apologetic response. But, if he’d heard you, you couldn’t tell, Izuku only humming as he began to tug your blazer down your arm. “I don’t know if I want this.”

He didn’t pay you any mind, starting to toy with the first button of your uniform’s shirt. “You want this, and so do I. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“Still, I… I want to stop.” You tried to be more firm, more stern in your approach, your hands returning to his biceps. You pushed him away with as much strength as you could manage, forcing him to acknowledge your displeasure. Izuku whined as he was separated from you, no longer grinning. A light frown had taken its place, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be discouraged. “I don’t want this at all. I know you like me, but I’m still not sure I like you. And I know I’m not going to like you any more if somebody catches us.” You sighed, shaking your head, more for yourself than for him. “Can’t we just talk for a while? Like we always do, ‘zuku.”  

He blinked once, twice. “No.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little smaller. “No?”

“No.” His mouth was on yours in an instant, pushing against you furiously and refusing to budge when you attempted to get away. Arms snaked around your midriff as you tried to kick, pulling you closer, closer, too close, Izuku paying no regard to the nails now embedded in his cheek. It was primal and passionate and suffocating, your entire body constricting in an effort to escape him. Even as he pulled away, he refused to let go of you, his chin resting on your shoulder, erasing the thought of distance from your mind. “You accept my gifts. You let me in when I come to your room, and you don’t reject my confessions. You want this.” He stopped, abruptly, warm breath fanning over your neck. “That, or Monoma wasn’t lying. And if he wasn’t lying, then you must’ve been. You must not really like me.”

You curled into yourself, and Izuku’s hold on you tightened. “What if I don’t?”

He laughed, under his breath, his demeanor lightening as soon as the words were off your tongue. It was like someone flipped a switch, his touch nothing short of gentle as he took a step back, finally giving you space to breathe. A hand rose to cup your chin, rubbing over half-bruised hickeys tenderly, as if he was apologizing for being so rough. Luckily, the adoration in his eyes freed you of that delusion.

He smiled and kissed you one more time, barely making contact. You flinched. It must’ve been impossible for him to miss, but... he didn’t care.

He just didn’t care.

“I don’t know what I would do,” He said, cheerily. “But maiming the bastard seems like a good place to start.”

[howlingday]

Jaune: So, I told him, I- (Yang shoves Jaune's friend out of the way)

Yang: Why, hello there. You look like a very attractive, young man. Allow me to take you out on the hottest of dates. I see you have a lot of other word lady suitresses. Allow me to make my case.

Harriet spins a football on the tip of her finger, then juggles it a few times before stepping on and giving Jaune an eyebrow wag.

This girl plays football, but I once won the whole superbowl myself~!

Yang shows a clearly photoshopped and edited video of herself throwing a basketball like a baseball to herself, where she bowls over pins and canned audience roars.

Elm is working the 100lb. barbells, then looks up at Jaune and gives a smooching gesture to him.

This gal is a weightlifter, but I can bench an entire condimental shelf~.

Yang shows a video of herself lifting a shelf of a of assorted condiments, looking at the camera while licking the spout of the mayonnaise bottle.

Winter nods towards Jaune while holding her military dress cap in her dress uniform, and holds out her business card, which has a lipstick stain on it and a set of numbers written on there.

This woman is a general, but I already brought the world everlasting peace~!

Yang shows a video of her punching "Salem," who is just Weiss in a gaudy black dress.

And if that's not enough, let me ask: When was the last time one these bitches killed a motherfucking mythical beast~?!

Oh, yeah, I will rock your world; 'cause I'm a Dragonslayer Girl~!

Yang rips off the midriff of her shirt, showcasing her gloriously soft six-pack. She then turns around and smacks her own butt.

I shall now show off my abs! Don't act like you don't want this ass.

Yang slips Jaune a letter, titled, "For the cute blonde. Inside is a boob pic. No nipple, just cleavage from above, with a little bit of her sports bra showing in the corners. She then hands Jaune a crudely drawn picture book, titled, "Yang Xiao Long: Dragonslayer."

How hard did I just seal the deal, with my dragonslayer steel? Do you feel all my sexy appeal, and my story which is so very totally real~?

The first page of Yang's book features a crayon drawing of her on a Bullhead (or maybe that's a shark), going up a mountain with a sign that reads, "90 MIL HUNDRED 50,000 HUNDRED FT." The second page is Yang fighting Ursa with karate gis and headbands on. The third page was split in two with the top left featuring Yang fighting a green dragon, and the bottom right featuring Blake looking sad at a lonely candlelight dinner. The last page just had the word "BOOM!" written on it.

I flew up to mountaintop, it was ninety million hundred fifty thousand feet in the air~.

'Til I found the dragon's cave, and I fought through her army of awesome karate bears~!

Dragon's breath was a blast from Hell, and we fought so hard, I missed a long-standing appointment with boo~!

Then I swung my Bullhead like a club, and it caused a sonic boom that ruptured space, and then exploded the moon~!

Oh yeah, now you want to fuck, 'til you dragonslayer nut~!

Yang flexes her hands, then shows a photo of her and the rest of Puns and Roses.

I killed a demon with these hands! Did I say I'm also in a band~?

In case, you might need more proof, I brought the dragon right to you~!

Yang throws down a smoke bomb that doesn't go off, and Emerald lazily steps out.

OOH~!

It's the one that I slew, to attest that my story is totally true~!

Dragon Dance~!

Yang tries dancing with Emerald, but she's just standing there pouting. Ruby awkwardly dances with them. Yang nudges Emerald, who sighs.

I AM A DRAGON~!

NOT SOMEONE YANG MET AT THE BUS STATION IN A DRAGON SUIT~!

WHOO~!

Boy, let's go back to my place! Nothing fancy, just a huge mansion in space~!

Yang shows a video of Schnee Manor photoshopped into a starlight sky. Yang hands Jaune a letter, which he opens, and inside is a pair of black, lacy panties. Yang finger-guns him.

Can you guess what coming next? Here's a hint: I'm talking about sex~!

This is the best day of your life! I'll be your dragonslayer bride~!

Yang shows off a wedding photo with their faces glued on the original couple's faces, before she turns around to face the other women and shuts her eyes.

Now it's time to decide, which lucky one of us will be your lover tonight~!

Yang: (Opens her eyes, Sees Harriet is gone) ...Oh, I see you have chosen the football player. (Turns around, Sees Jaune's arms being cuddled by Harriet and Winter) ...And the general. (Elm walks behind them and drapes herself over Jaune's shoulders) ...And apparently the weight lifter as well. (Emerald walks past her, Grabs Jaune's ass) ...And the dragon. (Ruby runs up to them, Shoots Yang an "I'm sorry!" look) ...And my sister, Ruby. (The Summer Maiden pushes Yang out of the way before walking behind the harem) ...And the Summer Maiden?! She hasn't even been revealed yet!