#there’s just something about him that makes me FERAL

[kashverse]

hear me out, papakuna totally distraught about babykuna's first bday because he wants it to be absolutely perfect

sukuna has planned a lot of things in his life.

how to build his own company from the ground up? check. how to propose to you the moment he realized he was utterly, stupidly in love with you? check. how to plan an obscenely extravagant wedding despite you telling him no, we don’t need a horse-drawn carriage, suku, this is not a fairytale— check. but none of those compare to the sheer anxiety that consumes him when planning babykuna’s first birthday.

yes, that’s right. one whole year since you made him the happiest man on earth for the second time. (the first was when you agreed to be his wife. the second was when you gave him a mini-you.)

so naturally, this needs to be perfect. spectacular. a grand event to set the standard for all birthdays to come.

you watch from the couch, nursing a cup of tea, as your six-foot-something, terrifying, king-of-the-corporate-world husband paces the room with his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gripping his hair like he’s planning the olympics.

"i don’t give a shit if there are scheduling issues, uraume, i need those ponies on saturday."

ponies. there are ponies at stake now.

"yeah? and tell the bakery i want the cake to be exactly like the reference. if i see even one ugly sprinkle, someone’s getting fired."

he hangs up with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples.

"baby, 'm this close to snapping someone’s neck."

"you mean over the birthday party that she won't even remember?" you ask, mildly amused. sukuna scoffs like you just committed blasphemy. "the disrespect. our daughter deserves the best."

you glance over at the soon to-be birthday girl herself, currently drooling on her own fist in her bouncer, blissfully unaware of her father’s slow descent into madness. "you’re stressing yourself out over nothing," you hum, sipping your tea.

"oh, yeah? and when she looks back at pictures of this day, do you want her to see a half-assed party?"

you raise a brow. "she’s literally chewing her foot right now."

sukuna turns to babykuna, who is, in fact, gnawing on her chubby little foot like a deranged gremlin. "she’s too young to understand stress," he grumbles, kneeling down to scoop her up. she gurgles in response, smacking her drooly little hands against his expensive-ass shirt. "yeah, that’s great, sweetheart," he mutters, gently wiping her mouth before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

she promptly spits up on his sleeve.

"...right. thanks."

you giggle. "maybe you should focus less on ponies and cake sprinkles and more on surviving fatherhood."

"shut up," he grumbles, shaking his drool-covered sleeve. you shake your head, smiling.

"but honestly, baby, you’re doing so much for her. she might not remember it, but we will. and when she’s older, she’ll see how much her dad loves her." he huffs, but you see the way his shoulders relax at your words.

"...whatever. still getting the ponies."

the day of the party, and babykuna is having the time of her tiny little life.

the ponies? a hit. the cake? bigger than her. the decorations? over-the-top. your husband? going absolutely feral over making sure the event is flawless.

"what the fuck is this?!" sukuna growls, glaring at the table.

choso, bless his ignorant soul, stares at the bowl of m&ms he just put down. "uh… candy?"

"these are the wrong colors."

"i—"

"WHERE'S THE BABY PINK? WHERE'S THE WHITE? DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS PERFORMER?!"

choso, looking genuinely scared for his life, quickly scoops up the bowl.

"i’ll—i’ll fix it!!"

meanwhile, babykuna, in her tiny pink party dress, is sitting directly on top of her smash cake, hands covered in icing, face lit up with pure joy as she happily smacks the dessert into oblivion. a photographer snaps a picture at the perfect moment—babykuna, mid-splatter, frosting in her hair, grin wide enough to make your heart burst. you lean into sukuna’s side, watching your daughter go feral.

"see? worth it." you murmur. he sighs, watching babykuna destroy the thing he spent weeks planning.

"...yeah. worth it."

[pricetagged]

MEDIEVAL SCAMMER GHOAP?! Please enlighten us🙏🙏🙏

Since you both asked so nicely, have a snippet of a whisp of a concept😅

I have an idea. Not fully fleshed out. I could go in two directions, either historical Ghoap working as Pardoners and taking advantage of ignorant village reader (corruption kink, religious themes, abuse of power etc.).

OR, for my monster-lovers, has anyone seen Dragonheart? I was picturing, like, one of them is something beastly, the other plays at knight = profit? Fantasy scam and rescue? So, it would go something like this:

(Tw kidnapping and kind of mean Ghoap)

---------

Your situation didn't look any better flipped on its head. Flipped on your head, rather. Snatched and thrown over a bulky shoulder, high– higher than even your standing position. It was discomfiting; it was terrifying. Blood rushed to your face not only in fury but also in shame as your skirts fluttered in the breeze.

He noticed, too. His greedy fingers dug into your thighs, skimming down like he was soothing a skittish horse. But you felt the way he lingered. The way he chuffed and squeezed tighter when you kicked out with all the strength of a skittish colt.

Your fists pounded uselessly against heavy splint-mail, hands-catching on rough nodules and spikes that didn't quite register as pain. Not to your panic-stricken mind, thoughts flying off in the wind behind you as the beast carried you off.

But the smack registered.

Perhaps it was the sound, the harsh slap of flesh on flesh. Whipping crack, like the snapping of a great branch. The precursor to an eerie stillness, violence begetting obmutescence. And it worked–

–for a second. For the time it took for your stinging nerves to catch up with your racing mind. Then you howled. Kicked and clawed and hissed like a feral cat as tears welled in your lash-line.

"How dare you–"

"Quit yer fashin'. Ye'll bring the whole kingsguard down this way–"

"–good–"

"–and then I'll have tae kill them all," That had your attention, legs tense under the heavy band of his bicep. "Dinnae much feel like sharin' ye around."

"Oh, you beast! You foul, vile, disgusting–" Your voice was high, words scratching as they hitched out of your aching throat.

It hurt to speak, vocal cords already shredded from the way you'd screamed when he'd first ransacked your village. Coughing on heavy, acrid smoke and crying futile warnings about the Black Knight and his monster-in-arms ('Quiet, girl. Viper-tonged harlot, slither off and for gods' sake, quiet!') . But it hurt more to be silent. You flung insults like broken arrows, hoping that they would somehow land. That they would hit, fortuitously, and pierce the thick-hide of this brute. But hope is vain, and the fancies of men make gods laugh.

You landed hard on something soft.

Ego almost as bruised as your knees, you kept your eyes low. Sweeping. Marshy, wet silt. Topsoil sluiced off, only mud and clay and reeds to your right. A cheerfully babbling brook just beyond, water murky and discoloured with backwash from– the water flowed past the estuary of the village so it must be– no–

The realisation was caustic. Mordant. Burning at you like the scorched air in your lungs.

"You're a monster," you spat the words, mouth watering in your haste to let ichor drip forth and blacken him as much as the foul, brackish water ahead.

"Noticed that, did ye," he laughed, words glancing off like feeble blows. "Best not tae piss me off, then. Stay there and behave yersel'. Company's comin'."

Glancing up at him was like a blow to the stomach, wind punched out and body shaking. You already knew that he was big, inhuman. But now you could see every inch; monstrous, twisted mockery of natural features. Like a man formed of rock, too immense and hard and jagged to pass for anything but artificial. Counterfeit. Contranatural. Creation's bastard. All tusks and teeth and shorn hair. Hair everywhere, even down his bare, bulging forearms and thick knuckles. Coarse, dark.

His eerie, bright blue eyes blazed around black, pupils wild and blown. It could be the thrill, cruel playfulness of an apex predator. Berserker-wide, coming down from the kill–

But he'd been carrying you for a while, bloodlust long-since sated on the men and manse of your homeland.

You shivered, sweat and cold mingling in a discomfiting damp that raised the hairs on your arms. (The hairs on the back of your neck were already needle-stiff and prickling).

You pocketed a stone, a big jagged filthy shard. One you hoped could bruise and slash and poison, turn wounds weeping and sick.

Now that you were silent, he seemed especially strident, swaggering around the barebones of what you supposed must be a dwelling. You felt the slight whistling of air from the cave behind, cavernous and black. If you had to run, to hide, you'd take your chances with the forest and river ahead. To be lost in the appetites of the mountain abyss would spell death as surely as at the hands of this creature.

You watched him, cocksure and comfortable as he shucked off his warhammer and began unbuckling his braces. If you could read the snarl of his crooked teeth, you'd perhaps say he was in high spirits. He sent you a wink as he shrugged off his splint-mail, gravelly laugh echoing in the cavern behind.

It disguised the approach of your visitor.

"Grabbed the wrong one, Johnny," you shrieked as something grabbed your forearm, hauling you up. Looking down you saw the muted sheen of a spiked gauntlet. Black patina, flaked in iron rust. You swallowed hard, lump in your throat so big that it caught any words that might try to escape. Him. The Black Knight. The Liar. 

"Ye said to grab the pretty one by the fancy house."

"She's not the magistrate's daughter. No ransom for her." He spun you around, metal biting hard into your chin as he arched your face towards his.

Cloaked in ink-black helm and visor, you could just about peer in to meet his gaze. He looked back with cold, assessing eyes. The voice that rumbled forth was as harsh and breccial as you remembered, words rending you apart with serrated precision: "Not worth a rescue mission."

He released your chin with a final shake of your head, huffing amusement as you rubbed at the thin scratches he left behind.

It was hard to breathe now, stomach swirling and head-light. Even if you could will yourself, it wouldn’t help. There was already a faint coppery smell leeching from the Knight; your heart recognised it even if you would not give name to it. It sped up, fast enough to rush past your ears with discordant force. 

You didn’t feel the other one step up behind you, not until it was too late. There, trapped between man and monster (man the monster), tight enough that you couldn't even shiver. You felt the power of the creature even more now without the armour, all muscle and fat, sheer power close enough to sink your fingers into. But you couldn't move, your shallow breaths already catching in your throat into soft, hitching whines. 

"Shh, it's alright, bonnie," Rough, clumsy fingers swiped under your eyes. You felt him crouch lower, stubbly hair and tusks digging into your powder-soft cheek. "Looks like we're gonnae have tae keep you, then."

------------

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

have you heard of cute aggression i imagine mc having a case of this with sebastian and he's like well at least it's cus she loves me

At Least She Loves Me | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Omg ofc I know what cute aggression is and I LOVED WRITING THIS. ID CHOMP SEBASTIAN TOO IF I COILD.

Words: ~700

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House, Fluff

Sebastian Sallow had no idea what he had done to deserve this.

It wasn’t that he was complaining, necessarily. He liked when you paid attention to him—sought it out, even. But the way you were staring at him now, like a kneazle about to pounce, was putting him on edge.

He tried to ignore it at first. He really did.

But he could feel your gaze burning into the side of his face, your fingers twitching like you were physically holding yourself back from doing something rash. He did his best to focus on the essay in front of him, quill scratching steadily against the parchment, but when you huffed—a dramatic little exhale that was so very you—he finally snapped.

“You’re staring.”

“Mm.”

Sebastian lifted his head slowly, as if moving too fast would provoke you into an attack. “What now?”

“You’re being too cute again.”

Sebastian blinked. Once. Twice. Then, just to be sure, “Pardon?”

“You heard me.”

He set his quill down, eyeing you suspiciously. “I really don’t think I did.”

“You do cute things, Sebastian.” You gestured vaguely at him, your hands moving like you were trying to physically pluck the words from the air. “And it’s making me lose my mind.”

Sebastian leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms along the top of it as he smirked. “Go on.”

“See?! This! This is what I mean! You’re all smug about it, which makes it worse!”

He chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself now. “So let me get this straight—you think I’m cute and that’s a problem?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “Because it makes me want to shake you.”

Sebastian raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. “Shake me.”

“Yes.”

His smirk widened. “Like, out of frustration or—?”

“Sort of!” you blurted, hands twitching as you tried to explain the feral energy currently buzzing in your veins. “You’re just—you! And sometimes you look so stupidly handsome and do little things like chew on your quill and sit there all Sebastian-y, and it makes me want to—”

“What?” He was grinning now, utterly charmed despite himself.

You struggled for the right words before blurting, “Bite you!”

Sebastian’s expression instantly shattered into disbelief. “I’m sorry—what?!”

“Not hard!” you added quickly, waving your hands as if that somehow made it less unhinged. “Just—like, a little chomp! Affectionate!”

Sebastian gawked at you, floundering for a response. “You—you want to bite me because you love me?”

You swallowed, fighting the heat creeping up your neck, and doubled down. “Yes!"

Sebastian just ran a hand down his face, as if trying to process how this was his life.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.”

“Both.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh, slouching dramatically against the couch, as if this was the greatest burden he had ever borne. You, however, were still buzzing with too much feeling, and now that the topic had been breached, your hands were itching to do something about it.

So you lunged.

Sebastian barely had time to react before your hands were on his face, squishing his cheeks together.

“You’re so cute and it infuriates me,” you growled, mushing his cheeks even more.

Sebastian made a muffled sound of protest, eyes widening in mock betrayal. “Hey!”

“This is your fault,” you declared, now aggressively ruffling his curls.

Sebastian finally wrestled your hands away and pinned them to the couch, breathless as he glared at you with flushed cheeks. “You menace!"

“You deserve this.” You were grinning, utterly delighted by his suffering.

Sebastian laughed, dropping his forehead dramatically against your shoulder. “Why am I in love with someone so insane?”

You beamed. “I don’t know but it’s too late now.”

Sebastian groaned, flopping back onto the couch with the resignation of a man who had lost every battle but still somehow won the war.

He sighed, eyes slipping closed as he let himself relax. You, now thoroughly satisfied, settled beside him, head resting on his shoulder.

And as he absentmindedly reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, Sebastian thought, at least she loves me.

Even if you did want to bite him.

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

beg him for forgiveness // Nico Hischier

we got a little nico brain rot so plz enjoy this isn’t that long just feral word vomit

wc: 376

cw: porn with no plot, toys, anal, kind of god complex idk if it’s that or just sacrilegious but either way, condescending nico, kinda mean nico

Nico who doesn't like to think about how you come undone on any toy when he's gone, because only he's supposed to make you do that. So when you mention you need to get off to him a day before he gets home, he's kinda fuming. He’s gonna play it cool though. He'll ask to see how well the dildo fits in your cunt just because he "misses the way you take him". But really he's scheming. He’s planning a way to show you he's better than the toys you have.

Nico who texts you when he leaves the airport to be naked in bed when he gets home because he has to have a taste.

Nico who walks in your room to see that stupid fucking toy on the nightstand where you left it last night and all plans go out the window because now he's just mad. So ya know what he does? He grabs the dildo off the nightstand before setting himself between your legs.

Nico who tells you to close your eyes before he's running the toy through your folds just so he can hear the whine fall from your mouth. "What's wrong baby? Thought you loved this thing?"

Nico who teases your hole until you're begging him to do something. "I usually like hearing you beg for me, but I think this is just slutty. Don't you? Begging me to fuck you with a toy when i'm right here. It’s a shame really, I was real excited to feel you squeezing me."

Nico who finally pushes the toy inside you only to hear you mumble "not enough." Just to flip you over and shove your head into the pillow.

Nico who teases your asshole with this thumb while he's slowly fucking you with your dildo.

Nico who gets you so close to the edge just to push his thumb into your tight hole and hear you moan “oh god.”

Nico who smirks at the way your body reacts to whatever he gives you.

Nico who chuckles at your desperate whines, “That’s it baby, why don’t you pray to your god and ask him for forgiveness. I heard he’s real understanding, might just let you cum but you gotta pray real sweet.”

[vividiana]

tastes like she might be the one

pairing: Astarion x f!Dark Urge · word count: 5.3k

rating: E for shameless smut (MDNI)

tags: blood drinking, period sex, oral sex, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, masturbation, Astarion being a little feral, porn with (some) plot, idiots in love, post-canon, general Durge spoilers

“Well, all of that’s to say that if you would like to… indulge, this might be your one and only chance to do so.” “Oh. I see.” Astarion’s eyes light up at the idea and Eve’s breath hitches when he takes a couple steps closer, his face just inches away when he says: “Then I suppose we better make it count.”

a/n: I did it, I succumbed to the Urge and wrote a period kink oneshot. hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

tagging some of my lovely moots who were hyping me up as I shared snippets from this fic: @khywren @nerdallwritey @xxnashiraxx @obsessedwhyyes @verbenaa @bby-bel-art @hellethil @arzen9 (thank you so much for getting excited about this with me. tbh it would have still been sitting in my wip doc if it weren’t for you all ❤️)

the title is from "LUNCH" by Billie Eilish

read on ao3 · dividers

As Eve is leaving the market, she feels her lower abdomen clench painfully in a manner she doesn’t recognize. She winces, tightening her grip on the grocery bags and tries to figure out what mundane malady it could be this time as she hurries back to the apartment. 

Soon, she reaches the familiar facade, but as she goes for the handle, the door swings open. Eve startles when she sees Astarion, wide-eyed and visibly tense. 

“What are you doing?” she yelps when he pulls her inside, standing just inches away from the pool of sunlight spilling onto the hardwood floors. “Get away from the door!” 

She kicks it shut behind her, the room safely dim again. But Astarion seems to pay no mind to the obvious danger, as he grabs the bags from her and puts them on the ground, before turning her around and assessing her body as if looking for something.

“What happened? Where is it? Show me.”

“Where is what? Are you okay?”

“The wound!” he shrieks, voice high-pitched from nerves. “Hells, I can smell your blood, I could smell it from blocks away. Did someone attack you? Who do I have to kill?” 

Eve freezes as the pieces connect in her mind. The pain. The scent of blood that was imperceptible to her but obvious as alarm bells to Astarion’s senses. 

Eve laughs at the absurdity of it, Astarion’s eyes widening even further as he tries to fathom what in the Hells she’s on about. Bhaal hand-sculpted her for one purpose and one purpose only, designed her to carry out his gory vision most efficiently, and yet he still made her bleed like this…?

“Oh, that petty son of a bitch!” Eve says to no one in particular. After a deep breath, she reaches for Astarion’s hands and explains in a calmer tone: “I’m not hurt, Star. I think I just got my period. It’s as novel to me as it is to you, honestly.”

She watches as Astarion’s expression cycles through a series of emotions, so clear and unfiltered. First confusion, then relief, and finally a peculiar mix of glee and dread. 

“Oh. Oh. ALRIGHT.” He takes a step back, frantically looking up and down her body. When his mouth opens again, words spill out in a chaotic monologue punctuated by nervous giggles. “Fear not, I am so prepared for this. Well, truth be told, my only knowledge about half-elves and menstruation comes from Shadowheart and I don’t know how reliable that is, she tends to be a tad dramatic, don’t you think? But let’s think hmmm… A bath! Would you like me to draw you a bath? Wait, no, you must be hungry, let’s make you some food first.” 

He reaches for the grocery bags and darts upstairs.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Eve asks warily as she follows him up to the kitchenette. 

“Oh yes darling, I am doing quite SPLENDID myself, I am just concerned about your comfort!!” 

Rather unceremoniously, Astarion turns the grocery bags upside down, produce tumbling in all directions across the counter. He grabs a small knife and begins to peel some potatoes whilst aggressively humming Down by the River.

As Eve watches his frantic movements, her stomach drops in realization. 

“Star…” she starts, walking up to him.

“YES, my dearest?”

“Is the blood… distracting?”

Astarion’s nervous, high-pitched giggle is enough of a confirmation.

“OH YES! Incredibly so! But do not worry about me, the concern right now should be YOUR COMFORT.”

“Oh gods,” Eve sighs, massaging her temples. “Is this what the next tenday is going to look like?”

“TENDAY?” Astarion stabs the counter, the tip of the knife wedged into the wooden surface. There is sheer panic in his eyes when he turns around and asks: “You bleed for a tenday?”

“I don’t know, this is a first! But as far as I know, people can bleed for anywhere from three to ten days?”

“THAT’S FINE. We will get through this together!” He yanks the knife out and resumes his task. 

Eve stands there for a moment, watching him, unsure of what to do with herself.

“Are you hungry, is that the problem? Would feeding on me help?”

For a moment, Astarion freezes. He turns around, knife in hand, his gaze slipping down Eve’s body for a split second.

“What exactly are you offering?” he asks when he meets her eyes again, and Eve can feel her cheeks grow hotter in an instant.

“GODS, ASTARION.”

“I’M JUST SAYING–”

“YES, I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE SAYING–”

“IT COULD HELP WITH YOUR CRAMPS–”

“OKAY, I’M GOING TO TAKE A BATH NOW, BYE.”

“SOUNDS GOOD, I’LL KEEP PEELING–”

“YOU’VE ALREADY PEELED A DOZEN POTATOES, THAT’S TOO MANY POTATOES FOR ONE PERSON.”

“I’M STILL LEARNING, GIVE ME A BREAK.”

“OKAY I’M LEAVING NOW, I LOVE YOU.”

“I LOVE YOU TOO.”

Eve storms off to the bathroom. As she starts pouring water into the tub, she tries to push away the mental image of Astarion’s head between her thighs.

She adds some lavender oil into the water and gets inside, the hot temperature helping soothe her cramps. She leans her head against the edge of the tub, trying to make sense of all this.

Perhaps the reason she doesn’t remember this happening before is because her body put this particular function on hold while she was fighting for her life every day, sleeping on the ground, and eating irregularly. But now in the six months since the Netherbrain fell, she has been able to finally feel safe, giving her organism a chance to settle back into its natural rhythm. 

It still doesn’t explain why Bhaal didn’t just skip this part in the design process, but Eve does not even want to begin to understand his sick and twisted ways, so she pushes those thoughts away and tries to relax.

After fifteen minutes or so, there is a light knock on the door.

“Yes?”

The door creaks and Eve opens her eyes to see Astarion with a mug in his hand, looking a tad embarrassed.

“Hello,” he says as he continues to stand awkwardly in the doorway.

“You can come in, I won’t bite.”

He walks up and places the steaming mug on a stool by the tub. Eve can smell the mix of chamomile, ginger, and something else she doesn’t recognize. Astarion kneels beside her, arms propped on the edge of the tub.

“I brewed you some herbs that should help ease the pain. And there’s stew cooking, it will be done in an hour or so.”

“Thank you.” She reaches for his hand and places a kiss on his knuckles, eliciting a soft smile.

“I’m sorry about earlier. It was a lot to process all at once. I thought you might be bleeding out on the street somewhere and I couldn’t do anything about it, I was just stuck inside waiting for you to come back. And then you waltz in here as if nothing happened and once I knew you were safe, the smell of your blood was–” He trails off with an absentminded smile. “Well, let’s just say I’ve gotten somewhat accustomed to it now, but it is still quite distracting.”

“I’m sorry you were so worried, that must have been terrifying.”

“It was. But I also should have known that if anyone was foolish enough to attack you, you could handle it just fine. Anyways, you should drink your tea,” he says, passing her the mug. She takes a sip, the herbal mix blossoming on her tongue, and hands it back to him. “Are you enjoying the bath?”

“Yes, the hot water is helping a lot. But, I’m afraid there is something wrong with our tub.”

“Which is?” he asks, raising his eyebrow.

“It’s missing an elf.”

“Ah, an easy fix,” he says with a smile. 

Eve takes another sip of her tea as Astarion slips out of his clothes. She shuffles forward to make space for him, and he slowly lowers himself into the tub behind her, gasping as he touches the hot water. She leans back against his chest, nestling into his open arms.

After a moment of silence, Astarion asks:

“So, we don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to… But, um… Doesn’t this seem like a design flaw?”

“No, we do have to talk about him, because what in the actual fuck was he thinking? As if my whole life wasn’t bloody enough. And I can’t even justify it in any pragmatic way, because it’s not like I needed to bear more Bhaalspawn. I was supposed to be the last one!” 

“Daddy’s special girl.”

“Do not ever say that again.” She elbows him and Astarion laughs behind her.

After her bath and dinner, Eve decides to head downstairs and visit Derryth while the apothecary is still open. She explains the situation and asks for some menstrual cloths and anything that could help ease her cramps. The woman watches her intently as she listens, brows furrowed.

“Okay, so personally this is none of my business of course,” Derryth says, raising her hands defensively. “But as an apothecary, I feel obligated to ask: are you aware that you do not need to bleed every month? There are ways you can stop it.”

“There are?”

“Yes. Well, but first: are you and Astarion trying to conceive?”

Eve just stares blankly ahead as her life flashes before her eyes. It’s not something she ever thought to consider, she just assumed… Well, he is undead, after all.

“Umm… is that even… possible?” she asks weakly. “Given our… situation?”

“Under regular circumstances, no,” Derryth rushes to answer and Eve sighs with barely concealed relief, “but I’ve heard of some rituals… I don’t know, Eve, stranger things have happened. But no, unless you go out of your way to achieve it, you’re safe.”

“Okay. Then no, we are absolutely not trying to conceive. Gods, could you imagine–”

“I’d rather not,” Derryth says curtly. “Now, if that’s the case, then there is absolutely no need for you to suffer every moon. There are different ways you can go about it, the one that seems most popular with my clients is this tonic,” she says as she pulls out a couple of bottles from the drawer behind her and places them on the counter. “It’s fairly easy to use, it comes in these little bottles and you drink one the first night of each tenday. And there you go, problem solved.”

“That sounds… awfully easy,” Eve says as she eyes the medicine before her.

“Well, yes, because it is.”

“Does it have any side effects?”

“Of course it doesn’t. It’s supposed to make your life easier, not harder,” Derryth says with the patience of a parent explaining the most obvious concept to their child. 

Eve gets a month’s supply to try out, along with some pain medicine to help carry her over before the tonic starts to work. When she gets back to the apartment, she shows Astarion the bottles and explains how it all works.

“That’s probably for the best,” he says. “I’m glad you won’t have to go through this pain again.”

“Yes, me too, but…” Eve hesitates for a moment, but the memory of Astarion’s frantic energy from this morning is enough to give her the confidence to suggest: “Well, all of that’s to say that if you would like to… indulge, this might be your one and only chance to do so.”

“Oh. I see.” Astarion’s eyes light up at the idea and Eve’s breath hitches when he takes a couple steps closer, his face just inches away when he says: “Then I suppose we better make it count.”

There is a moment of tense silence as they regard each other, Eve’s chest rising and falling heavily at his proximity. 

But then the final thread of self-control snaps and Astarion pulls her closer, capturing her mouth in a greedy kiss, swallowing up the gasp that slips past Eve’s lips as she opens up to him. Suddenly, the air around her is all citrus and spice, Astarion’s scent and taste mixing into an intoxicating combination. It could easily sweep her off her feet were it not for his hands digging into her hips, anchoring her against him.

With a firm tug to her lower lip, Astarion breaks away, an undeniable urgency to his movements as his mouth slips down to her neck and he inhales sharply, head nuzzled against her. His voice is low and breathy when he says:

“Hells, you smell divine.”

With bated breath, she awaits the sharp sting of his fangs, wanting nothing more than to give him everything he craves. But instead, Astarion’s hands slip down to the back of her thighs and Eve’s body instinctively follows, like it’s a routine they’ve been rehearsing. She jumps, legs wrapping around his waist as if that’s precisely where they belonged. 

Eve sinks her fingers into his soft curls, kissing him with a newfound ferocity. She barely registers the steps Astarion takes until with a loud clatter, he kicks a chair out of his way, and she realizes they’re at the dining table. He lets go of her with one hand to push his notes to the side, pieces of parchment flying to the floor as he seats her on the edge. 

Astarion breaks the kiss, pinning her in place under his watchful gaze, the room silent save for the heavy pounding of Eve’s heart.

“Indulge, you say? Don’t mind if I do.” 

Astarion sinks down to his knees before her, and the sight of it alone is enough to make Eve’s head spin with need, the overwhelming desire to feel his mouth against her skin, to hear the savory sounds that escape his throat every time he tastes her. 

He tugs at her waistband and Eve lifts herself off the table just enough to let him pull her pants down and toss them to the side. Astarion swallows hard when she parts her legs for him and it looks like it’s taking him every ounce of self-determination to not rip off the final barrier between them and devour her right there and then. 

His hands reach up to push her back, and she leans away, propped on her elbows, not daring to miss out on a single moment of this hypnotizing spectacle. A low, guttural sound rumbles out of his chest as he presses his lips to her plush thigh and starts kissing up, closer, and closer, and–

Eve winces at a sharp stab of pain that begins to radiate down her thighs and up her spine in a throbbing, dull shiver, the hard wooden surface beneath her doing nothing to soothe her discomfort.

Astarion pauses, leaning away to meet her eyes.

“Are you alright, love?”

“I, um–” she sighs, bemoaning the need to be rational at a moment like this. “I am loving this energy, I really am. But there is no way we’re doing this on a table, my back is killing me.” 

“I suppose we can make do with a bed, then.”

He wastes no time as he rises to his feet and scoops her up, and in that moment Eve is convinced that she could get used to being carried like this. Astarion rushes to the bedroom to find Scratch splayed out across the mattress, raising his head curiously as they enter.

“Out,” he orders with poorly concealed desperation.

The dog whines, but darts out of the room obediently, and Astarion kicks the door shut behind him. He lowers her onto the edge of the bed and retrieves some pillows to place under her back. 

“Are you comfortable?” 

“Yes, I feel quite spoiled, actually. Are you comfortable?” she asks, unconvinced, watching as he once again gets to his knees on the hardwood floor.

“Oh, trust me, I am exactly where I want to be,” he says in a tone that erases any lingering trace of doubt from her mind.

Eve falls silent as Astarion’s hands begin to snake up her thighs, lithe fingers reaching the hem of her underwear, eyes meeting hers for a final confirmation that feels superfluous given their current predicament, and yet he still seeks it. Eve nods slowly, her throat too tight with anticipation to utter a sound, and she watches as Astarion hooks his fingers in and begins to slide the garment off her body with nigh religious reverence.

Once it slips down to her knees, she can finally get a better view and gods damn it, she changed into clean clothes less than an hour ago and already the fabric is ruined, a dark, rust-colored stain blooming along the gusset.

Eve shuffles her legs, helping Astarion slide the underwear completely off her. She expects him to toss it on the floor, but instead she watches, transfixed, as he folds it meticulously before slipping it into his pant pocket.

“Excuse you–”

But her objection dies in her throat at the sight of Astarion parting her thighs with unmatched focus. For a moment he just kneels there completely still, pupils blown wide, watching her like a predator poised to strike. It would be unnerving if it wasn’t him.

He hooks his arms under her thighs and pulls her closer, resting her legs on his shoulders.

Under his scrutinous gaze she becomes utterly aware of the wetness between her thighs, blood and arousal mixing into one. Suddenly, her mind drifts away from her kneeling lover to the softness of the silk bed sheets beneath her, the sheets that they got as a housewarming gift from Shadowheart, the ones that Astarion was so excited about, and however weakly, she whispers:

“Wait– We’re going to ruin the sheets–” 

Her words seem to snap Astarion out of his trance and he looks up from the sanguine scene before him to meet her gaze. 

“I can live with that.”

And as if to prove his point, he lunges forward, their moans mixing in unison the moment his tongue drags a firm line along her center. His grip on her tightens, surely enough to bruise, but Eve is way past the point of caring. Damn the bruises, damn the sheets, all that matters right now is the inferno raging within her, the ungodly sounds erupting from the depth of Astarion’s chest as he feasts on her like a man starved. 

Eve’s elbows give in beneath her and she falls back on the pillows, losing sight of his efforts. Instead she reaches for him, nails scraping against his scalp, legs crossed behind his head and urging him closer. Astarion’s nose presses deliciously against her clit as his tongue enters her time and time again, his groans vibrating through her core. 

One of his hands wanders to the hem of her shirt, lifting it up past the soft curve of her stomach. He leans away ever so lightly, lips brushing against her as he pleads:

“I need to see all of you.”

Eve complies, the tempo of Astarion’s tongue hastening the moment the linen slips past her the stiff peaks of her nipples. As she tosses her blouse to the side, she is struck by how completely bare she is before him, all the while Astarion looks as if he might have just come home from work, every button accounted for, every thread in place. A perfect picture of composure, were it not for the state of his curls, dampened with sweat and flattened against the grip of her thighs, nor the blood smeared against every inch of his exposed skin.

His tongue leaves her, but before she can protest this newfound emptiness, his mouth shifts up, lips closing around her clit with a firm suck as a single finger teases her entrance. Astarion slips inside with no resistance, one knuckle deep, tormenting her with how it’s simultaneously overwhelming and not nearly enough.

“Please, Star–”

But before the words fully leave her lips, they blossom into a wanton moan as he sheathes his finger, and beckons her, brushing against the spot that makes her feel weightless, like she is not of this world.

She bucks her hips into him and he moans against her cunt, encouraged by her reaction, and soon enough a second finger follows. He slides in slowly, the stretch combined with the suction of his lips pushing any previous aches and discomfort from her mind, leaving naught but an all-encompassing surrender, delicious pressure rising within her.

Through the haze, she reaches down, fingers teasing the points of his ears, and she knows exactly what she is doing, knows the effect it has on him, how it coaxes the sweetest sounds from his lips she is sure she will never get enough of. 

She recalls the first time she did it, over a year ago, back when neither of them knew how to define the curious companionship that has grown between them. It elicited the most unrestrained noise she ever heard from him and Astarion must have been taken aback by it, too, because he tore her hands away from him, pinning them above her head. He told her then that she was playing with fire but she couldn’t help it, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the blaze. 

It consumes them both now, eliciting the most obscene sounds from her love, his fingers picking up speed as they dart in and out of her, brushing deep inside with every stroke. 

She knows she won’t last long, cannot last long, not with the way he has become fluent in the language of her body, knowing exactly which strings to pull to make her sing. 

And sing she does, mouth falling open with praises that get increasingly terser, until the only word she can remember is his name. 

She cries it out as she grasps the sheets, the moment the pleasure becomes uncontainable, when it lights up every nerve, every inch of her skin. It’s a trust fall and he is right there to catch her, just as he always is. Just as he always will be.

Astarion’s grip doesn’t soften as she rides out this crest, his mouth and fingers relentless in drawing every last one of her moans, her eyes shut in pure bliss.

But then eventually all of her energy evaporates, her thighs growing slack around him, and Astarion retracts slowly, placing the softest kiss on her clit before getting to his feet. 

Eve feels the mattress dip as he crawls towards her and she somehow wills her eyelids to open, only to witness Astarion’s bloodied fingers slip into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as he begins to suck. The display is enough to make her throat go dry, skin flaring up with want that never got the chance to subside. 

Finally when he salvages every single drop, he lets go, eyes meeting hers as his fingers leave his mouth. Eve takes in the gory state of him: there is blood on his lips and chin of course, but also some on his nose, and is that…? Yes, somehow a bit of it found its way to his brow line. She can’t help but laugh as she tucks a flattened curl behind his ear.

“You look…”

“Happy?” Astarion offers, making a show of licking his lips in a manner that is surely against some moral law.

“I was going to say insatiable.”

“You would be correct,” he admits as he cups her cheek. 

He kisses her deeply, his taste a heady mixture of them both, laced with the metallic tinge of her blood. And suddenly their bodies are flush against one another once more, hands wandering, the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh. Eve’s hand slithers down between them, Astarion’s jaw going slack the moment she palms his still-clothed cock. 

Her breath hitches at the feel of him in her hand, but Astarion seems to have a plan of his own because he manages to compose himself, leaning away to ask:

“Can you take more?” 

“Try me,” she dares, the attempted edge of her words dulled by how breathless she is. 

A wide grin blooms on Astarion’s face, the tips of his fangs glinting in the moonlight when he asks: 

“How is your back?”

It takes her a second to register the meaning of his question. Truth be told, she completely forgot about it, the pain pushed out into the far corners of her mind by the overwhelming pleasure.

“It’s better.”

“Excellent. Do you think you can sit up?”

“Yes?” she says, unsure of where he is going with this.

Astarion leans away enough to pull his shirt over his head, and then rests on his back, tapping his shoulders as he says:

“Then sit.”

“What?” she asks, swallowing hard.

“You heard me.”

Slowly, Eve gets to her knees, trying to ignore the way the wetness pooled between her thighs seems to shift with the movement. But the shameless anticipation painted on Astarion’s face is enough to weed out any sprouting insecurities, and so she moves up, caging his head between her thighs and gripping the carved headboard for support. 

There is a moment of stillness when she hovers over him, and then Astarion’s gaze travels from her face down to her core and he licks his lips at the sight because of course he does.

Eve rolls her eyes and says:

“You’re ridicul–” 

But before she can finish the thought, Astarion grabs her waist and pulls her down, forcing an ungodly gasp out of her and suddenly all she can think about is how overwhelming the feeling of his mouth is in that position. Astarion gives her a slight, encouraging shove, and Eve starts rocking against him, chasing the friction that feeds the tempest brewing within her.

Astarion seems to be completely lost in the feeling, clawing at her thighs and moaning against her cunt in a way that vibrates deliciously up her spine. Eve wants to hear more of those sweet sounds, so she looks back, witnessing the erection straining against his pants and she reaches out to stroke him through the fabric. He groans, the movements of his tongue growing sloppier by the second, as she’s trying to unlace his pants with one hand without losing her balance.

“Need a little– Ah– Help,” she gasps when the task quickly proves beyond her current capabilities.

Astarion lets go of her thighs, nimble fingers moving to unfasten the garment in no time. He pulls his pants and underwear down just enough to free his untouched cock and Eve’s mouth waters as she catches a glimpse of how hard and flushed it is.

She leans back, propping herself with one hand as the other reaches out to spread the bead of precum over the head. As much as she can muster from that position, she starts to stroke him, encouraged by the truly obscene sounds that start erupting from his throat. 

But then she feels her side cramp up, her arm giving in beneath her. Astarion’s hands dart to grasp at her waist to keep her from collapsing.

“Bad idea,” she admits as she regains her balance, clutching at the headboard.

Astarion hums a noncommittal ‘mhm’ against her center as he settles back into a rhythm. His tongue is relentless in forcing ragged gasps out of her, but Eve wants to give him more, so in a flash of lust-laced genius, she offers:

“Bite me.”

Astarion’s eyes widen, his pupils dilated to the point where she can barely see the scarlet encircling them. He turns his head to the side and Eve would mourn the loss of his touch, were it not immediately compensated by the deep guttural moan that escapes his mouth the moment his teeth sink into her thigh.

Somehow, in all this time together, they have never done this. The initial sting is much sharper than usual, but as Astarion starts to drink, blood leaving Eve’s body in greedy pulls, she feels the familiar throbbing sensation begin to radiate from the wound, her cunt pulsating with every sip he takes and oh gods–

She watches mesmerized as Astarion reaches down and starts to pump himself and the image alone is enough to push her towards the edge. Her fingers slip down to her center to gather some of her slick before gliding up, tracing circles around her clit, her movements matching the rhythmic groans that Astarion makes with every mouthful of her blood. 

Eve knows that he’s close, recognizes it in the timbre of his voice, the furrowed line between his brows, the tension in his muscles as his strokes pick up pace. She swallows hard, wishing for nothing more than to watch him unravel beneath him, to witness–

It sneaks up on her this time, the electrifying shudder that tears through her body. Her mouth falls agape, knuckles white as they grip desperately at the headboard as if it’s the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Through the bliss, she barely registers the final guttural moan coming from somewhere below, the thick, hot rivulets painting her back.

Astarion’s mouth reluctantly leaves her thigh, his tongue cleaning up any remains of blood off her skin. Eve can feel his hands come up to her waist to steady her, but for now all she can do is just sit there, breathing heavily, head spinning with blood loss and afterglow.

After a couple moments she wills her muscles to move, her legs shaky as she shuffles down Astarion’s body before collapsing on top of him. His arms drape softly around her and they lie there in silence, utterly spent.

Eventually, Astarion slips out from underneath her, and Eve would reach out to stop him if she had any energy left. Instead, she burrows her face into the pillow and listens to the soft clicks of Astarion’s heels against the floor (how did he keep his shoes on all this time?) as he rustles through some drawers. 

When he returns, she feels his palm nestle in between her shoulder blades, his voice soft and steady when he utters the incantation:

“Te absolvo.” 

Healing magic begins to radiate across her body, lifting the heaviness from her muscles and dissipating the fog clouding her mind. And then there is another sensation as what she assumes to be a warm wet cloth runs gently along her back before slipping between her thighs, erasing the evidence of whatever the Hells it was they just experienced.

Suddenly, Eve feels a pang of disappointment and she voices it by mumbling incomprehensibly into the pillow.

“I don’t speak Ghukliak, love,” Astarion says.

Eve groans before turning her face to the side. She meets his amused gaze, spotting the Amulet of Silvanus that adorns his bare chest.

“I said: ‘are you done already?’ You don’t want more blood?”

Astarion laughs heartily as he grabs another cloth to clean his stomach and chest.

“Oh, and I’m the insatiable one? I always want more blood, dear, but you look like you could use a break, you know.”

“Excuse you, I feel excellent.” 

And as if to prove it, she props herself up and sits on the edge of the mattress. She takes a sip from the water cup he left for her on the bedside table before getting to her feet. 

Astarion watches her intensely as she approaches. Usually, he’s much more relaxed after he feeds, but Eve can see that there is still some tension in his features, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly as she steps into his space. 

She knows he’s holding himself back. 

And that just won’t do.

Her arms drape around his neck, and she leans in, lips brushing against his ear as she whispers:

“Take as much as you want, Star. It’s a rare treat, after all.”

Eve delights in the strained gasp that leaves his lips, in the caress of his hands that trail down to her waist before pulling her flush against him.

“How awfully selfless of you,” he drawls, leaning in to kiss her.

a/n: aaaaaand with that, I have officially passed 100k words on ao3. what a glorious way to reach that milestone 😅 I would love to hear your thoughts on this one, especially since I rarely write smut so any feedback is super helpful ❤️

[butchisrevolution]

dolly dog man readthrough #5

PART #2

for whom the bell tolls

TRUST GET TO THE END OF THIS RAMBLE I GET RLLY NERDY

bro the behavioral modification therapy thing traumatized him

i've heard this is a common criticism of BMT but feel free to correct me

i feel as though this form of therapy may be unethical...

jesus. no wonder bro has problems with intimacy bro literally does not know what love feels like

lowkey saving this for myself bc i need to remember this

lowkey this is just my dad

anyways this is also not healthy obviously and another thing that would contribute to a personality disorder

HOLY FUCKING SHIT. YES HE IS. AND THIS IS WHY.

that fear doesn't come from nowhere, it was instilled in him by his dad from a young age

li'l petey my anarchist boy back at it again

oh baby

petey sees himself in his son so much rn and it's heartbreaking

HE TOOK EVERYTHING THAT'D BENEFIT HIM PRACTICALLY

BUT HE DIDN'T CARE FOR THEIR LOVE

BECAUSE HE CAN'T FATHOM PUTTING HIMSELF BEFORE OTHERS

it'd be too painful for him to confront his lifestyle choices, so he fell back into his old harmful habits and left his past behind

he's insistent on keeping this promise because his father never kept any of his promises

it's a recently opened wound, so it's his first impulse. distance himself as much as possible from his father's identity to distance himself from the hurt

THE COLOR THEORY THAT'S USED TO SET TONE IN THIS BOOK. IT'S SO WELL DONE

and now he sees what he's done in his son's mind from an outside perspective. he has cursed his son to the same fate as him, a nihilistic hopeless view on life. and he hates it. his son doesn't deserve that. he doesn't deserve to go through what he did. he's so young, he hasn't done anything wrong. through realizing this, he realizes that he didn't deserve it either, and that his view on the world isn't any more correct because of his own experiences, it's just a damaged unhealthy view of it. he deserves better too. he can create better things for himself, like love for his son

so that's what he does

he does what he can. he reinforces his son's value, which was damaged by his grampa. he inserts a more positive world view, to try and change what alterations he may have caused to his sons psyche

...

my shayla

THE SYMBOLISM OF THIS SCENE MAKES ME GO FERAL AND IS THE ENTIRE REASON I GOT INTO THIS FANDOM. THIS SCENE I FIRST SAW IN THE MOVIE AND IT'S JUST AS GOOD IF NOT BETTER IN THE COMIC

he's turning something seen as "bad" or "wrong" by society into something beautiful that will spark joy and serve a purpose. he lets himself walk through the mud to get home, he turns even that into a positive experience, letting himself feel wonder about his surroundings instead of repressing his feelings, turning them to stone cold logic. this represents his newfound effort in, not repressing his personality, but in learning to cope with it healthily and create a life worth living. a life with a purpose, something he denied himself for so long. it represents being given the chance of recovery as someone with a personality disorder.

i love this book so much

[longlivedelusion]

Stress Reliever

Summary: Your regular checkup with your doctor who also happens to be your boyfriend goes... differently than you imagined.

Warnings: Smut. Eating out. Reader is afab. Some ice play. Minor angst.

A/N: This is inspired by this post because I'm feral and Love & Deepspace has become a hardcore fixation. We are locked in baby! Enjoy Zayne girlies~ (I know I did).

It had been a few months since Zayne and I started officially dating, and today marked the second checkup I've had with him since we got together. Sure, I'd been his patient a while now, but this new dynamic of doctor/boyfriend was still an adjustment to say the least.

I struggled with what boundaries to set in times like these, even though it seemed like Zayne was a natural. He treated me like any other patient, was professional in all senses when I was in the office, just to get a text the moment I leave the grounds saying I "looked beautiful today."

So as I walked into the office with a set of papers on my latest blood work, I paused at the door and took a deep breath. Health first, partner second.

That thought went straight out the door however when I walked into the room, Zayne's demeanor a cool chill that swept across the room like a brewing winter storm. 

To the average eye, he was the same cool and collected doctor that everyone knew and respected, but as someone who knew him well I could immediately tell: he was pissed.

"Hello, please have a seat." He said without looking up, gesturing to the chair across from him. I made my way over just as he finished whatever he was looking at on his computer and directed his full, cold gaze on me.

"Hi. Um, I have my latest blood work here." I said, sliding the paperwork across the desk. He grabbed the papers with ease, looking them over as the noise caused from the movement became the only sound in the room. My hands settled back onto my lap nervously, gripping and sliding across the fabric as my mind struggled to hold back the worried girlfriend side of me. Health first, health first, health first... 

He looked over the exams silently, the tension in the room gliding over me like tar as my body tensed across from his seemingly calm one. I watched as his hand tapped slowly on the table, his lips suddenly pursing.

"Your iron is low again. Have you been following the nutrition plan I prescribed?" He said, knowing I hadn't been eating at home as much lately due to late work nights. I'd told him time and time again that I'd been eating my regular, healthy meals not to worry him, but in reality I had maybe skipped a meal or two out of forgetfulness. Maybe three.

"I've been trying to, but with work I might have slipped here or there." I said, knowing there was no point to lying to him now. I tried to stop the guilt from flashing across my features.

"I see." His words clipped. He set the papers down carefully and leaned forward, linked hands together. His eyes bore into mine with a quiet fierceness I knew well, making me look away.

"I'm sorry, I'll be better about it. I'll-"

"There's no need to apologize. If you do not wish to follow my opinion as your primary care physician than that is your perogative." I couldn't read him, his emotions hidden behind stone as he stayed there a moment and then turned back to the computer. "Have you had any problems or discomfort in the past month?"

I looked at him, the familiar check-up questions throwing me out of my head a moment. "Uh, no. Everything's been good. Normal."

He nodded and continued typing. More silence. I felt my skin begin to itch as I struggled to hold to my earlier mantra. Was he mad at me? Did something happen today and I just made it worse? I know he worries.

"Seems we are all done here then. I just sent the signed certificate to your Captain, so you are free to go."

Wait what? "...just like that?" I asked. Normally he would avoid signing until I promised to take better care of myself or would at least scold me slightly before doing anything. Something was definitely up. 

"Yes." He said, not looking up. "I will see you in a few months."

I stood, taking that as a my cue to leave, but as I reached the door I paused. I felt the pull towards my partner, the desperate need to understand, to talk, to say fuck these boundaries and-

"Zay- Dr. Zayne." I hesitated as I turned back around. "Are you alright?"

He stilled for a fraction of a second before he continued his typing. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem off today and I was just concerned-"

"I'm quite alright." He said and didn't even look at me. He kept just typing and typing. I wasn't, couldn't take the next 9 hours waiting for him to get off work before I figured out what was going on. I'd go insane.

"Zayne," I said softly. "Please? Talk to me? I know we agreed to separate our work and personal lives but I'm really worried, this isn't like you. I know it's not just the iron thing."

He sighed, shoulders falling slightly as he closed his eyes. "It's nothing, darling. We can speak about it at home."

I move to the desk again, but this time around to face the side of my seated partner. "You won't be home for another 9 hours." My hand reached out to push his short hair behind his ear. "But if you really don't wanna talk about it, I understand."

He nuzzled into my hand, silent for a moment before he spoke, "It's the board. They've been reducing staff and resources from the Protocore Syndrome rehabilitation center in Maple Ridge due to the increase of need in other areas, but the cases in that area are unlike anything we've seen in other locations. They are pushing the staff already as is, yet they want to reduce it more."

He turned, moving my body in between his legs as his head settled on my chest. "I've been arguing with them all week about this and yet they won't listen. If they do this, a lot of people will die." He added with a sigh.

I keep stroking his hair back. "Oh, baby I'm so sorry. Maybe the Hunter's Association can help back up your claims? Maybe it'll be enough pull to get you the resources you need."

He shakes his head. "I've tried, but unless there's a public outcry or some miracle, I don't think there's much else we can do."

I gently pull his head back and he looks up at me with a slight furrow in his brow. "Don't give up. There had to be something else we're missing." I say, determination in my voice. "You're the Dr. Zayne, you'll find a way. I know it."

His eyes softened, looking at me with fondness and trepidation. "I may be good at my job, but I'm no miracle worker."

I shrug, "Maybe, maybe not, but you are stubborn. And determined. And that goes a long way."

And there, from the corner of his lips drew a small smile, "You are very good at comforting others, you know."

I smiled back, kissing his forehead gently. "I've been told once or twice." I pull back, and look at him again. "Is there anything I can do to help? Really, I wanna help you if I can." 

He paused, thinking deeply for a moment before he tilted his head to look at the door. "Perhaps there is one thing that you could do."

"What? Anything." I said with no hesitation.

He reached over to his comms channel and dialed the receptionist. "Miss Liǔ, please hold my appointments for 30 minutes and make sure nobody comes to my office in that time. I have an important call."

"Yes, Dr. Zayne."

The call ended and in that second I felt hands on my thighs as Zayne stood and lifted me onto the table. "Anything?" He repeated, face now mere centimeters from mine.

My breath hitched as I tried to form a single thought beyond fuck in that moment. "Zayne, this is your work, I mean anyone could hear us."

"Then I suppose you need to stay quiet then, don't you darling?" From his hand his Evol swirls until a cube of ice lands between his fingers, and he pulls back. "Open."

My eyes widen at the command but I do as he asks, mouth wide as he placed the cube on my tongue. The ice wasn't too cold surprisingly, but it still numbed my mouth somewhat.

"Don't stop sucking this cube, understood?" He said as he dropped to his knees. "Not until I tell you."

I nodded, pupils blown wide as I watched him make quick work of my pants. He shoved them down my legs, his mouth searing into my skin as he began his ascent up my thighs. His kisses were reverent, unrushed despite the ticking clock, the dual sensations of the cold and heat now rising in my body as I dropped my head and closed my eyes.

I felt his mouth inch it's way up, up, up closer to the growing wetness between my legs. I was still covered in that sense, and despite Zayne barely having touched me I was already brimming at the seams with want. It was always that way with him, somehow he could have me from 0 to 100 with barely a breath. 

Which, in that moment an actual breath took me from my thoughts as his mouth ghosted over my cunt. He drifted around it, yet never quite touching where I wanted. I felt everything leave my mind in that moment as a soft moan got stuck in my throat. I couldn't speak, couldn't beg, couldn't anything. So I settled for the next best thing.

I reached forward, hand grabbing onto his hair as I locked eyes with him, exuding every pleading thought I could into that stare. He simply chuckled and grabbed my hand, placing a gentle kiss on it before settling it back on the desk. "Patience, darling. I'm taking my time. After all, I need to relax."

With that he nuzzled into my clothed core, nose flickering over my clit as he let in a small inhale. "God, you smell divine." He said, the movement making me grip the desk. He licked a small stripe from the bottom up making me lift my body in reaction.

"You taste divine too."

He reached up to the edges of my panties, pulling them down and away as he greeted my now glistening core. His hands gripped my thighs as he let out a breathy "beautiful" before licking a long stripe up my folds.

Another moan got stuck in my throat as he began to suck on my sensitive bud, his tongue soothing it at random intervals before diving down and up again. The way his mouth moved over me, the care, the gentle lick to a fevered suck had my mind reeling. I started pulsing my hips upward, desperate to get more pressure where I needed, but Zayne just kept going at his own designated pace.

His hands tightened on my thighs as he pushed them down, a silent order as his mouth continued his ministrations, my juices slowly dripping down his chin and onto his desk.

My hands reached back for support as I instead sucked on the cube on my tongue for some sort of extra stimulation. One of my hands reached for my chest, pinching and kneading as my muffled keens grew more desperate.

Zayne was not a selfish lover by any means, but in this moment he couldn't care less about anything but his face between my thighs.

With the impending countdown of the clock, I felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through my system as desperation kicked in. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but the words struggled to come out with the ice on my tongue. "Pwease" was all I managed, the ice balancing on my tongue awkwardly as I spoke.

His eyes shot up to me, his mouth slowing and pushing back to an agonizing pace. It made me whine in frustration as Zayne's hand gave a warning squeeze. A reminder of who this was for and who was in charge here. But, to also trust him.

I sighed and nodded, legs widening as I struggled to keep myself in check. What mattered was he was getting what he needed to relax, and if that was by eating me out, well. Who was I to complain?

At that thought, the pressure began again and a new sensation filled my body as a finger began to press in. My body tensed at the intrusion, a muffled moan escaping Zayne's mouth from the tightness as he started to suck just a bit harder. His finger pushed in and out at a casual pace, curling and twisting as he explored its tight walls.

My body began writhing against the desk, pushing against him as he pumped his fingers. I reached forward, one hand still on the desk while the other grabbed his hair for dear life. He was a man enjoying every single bite of his meal, slowly, intentionally, yet desperate for more. 

Soon, a second finger pressed in, stretching me to heaven.

Whimpers and whines stayed caught in my throat as he began curving his fingers into a spot he knew well, one he knew that could have me screaming in any other circumstances. Despite the ice cube in my mouth, if anyone listened close enough to the door of infamous Dr. Zayne they would hear the desperate whines of his partner and the sounds of his fingers ravaging my cunt.

Closer and closer it built, the need to cum. Just that, a need. Zayne could tell too, his movements growing faster as he pumped into me hard and fast, tongue swirling and sucking with just the right pressure. My nerve endings felt alive, the cool ice barely grounding me in the present while his mouth kept me afloat in the sky. I could feel it growing closer and closer until-

"Mmm!" I sucked hard on the ice while I lurched forward, body shaking as my orgasm hit me with barely a warning. His hands pressed into me lazily through the aftershocks before he eventually he let them go and his mouth replaced them. He licked and sucked any remainder of cum before sucking his fingers clean as well. He let out a deep sigh.

"Incredible," he mumbled, a small smile on his lips as he rubbed gentle circles on my thighs. He stood then, leaning over me as he gently kissed my lips. The ice cube melted between our tongues as his Evol dissolved the magic and I sighed in relief.

"Thank you, darling." He said as he pulled back, forehead against mine. "I needed that."

I smiled, head reaching to stroke his cheek. "I'm glad to help." I said, the sincerity coating my words before I looked down. "What about you though? I can-"

He stopped my hand before it could touch him, moving it up to his lips instead. "I got everything I needed." He said as he kissed my palm, and then every finger. "I'm quite happy like this."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He looked up then and smiled, the tension from earlier completely melted away. "Absolutely."

[weathertheraine]

Karasuno First Years: DnD Party AU!!

This is an AU I’ve had cooking for literally years so finally here’s something for it :DD I’ve built the first years as a level 4 party - just starting to get on their feet and not almost die on the daily.

Character backstories here!!

I have practically made character sheets for these guys but BE WARNED. They are not all 100% legal I have fudged things like Hinata needing a high strength score to multiclass out of Barbarian… but like. I don’t think I’ve cheated in any ways that a chill DM wouldn’t probably find a way to swing :P

IMMENSE ramblings under the cut about my reasonings for class/race/trait decisions if you’re interested in that :P

HINATA: HALFLING BARBARIAN/SORCERER

- Hinata as a Halfling not only gives him an even bigger height disadvantage than canon, but also has some INCREDIBLY fitting traits: ‘Lucky’ lets him reroll 1s, ‘Brave’ means he is resistant to being Frightened, and ‘Nimble’ means he can dodge through spaces occupied by creatures who are bigger than him (aka Human-sized), giving him extra manoeuvrability on the battlefield.

- I thought a barbarian’s Rage was also a great way of representing Hinata’s near-superhuman athletic abilities and determination on the court. For the duration, he has increased attack and strength abilities, and resistance to physical damage. The rage will end if he hasn’t attacked a hostile creature or taken damage since his last turn - a fun parallel to his need to stay in the action and constantly be touching the ball or he gets deflated (at least at first - this is their early days as a party, so they have some of their early flaws even if they’re young adults here instead of teens).

- ‘Reckless Attack’ is also fitting as it gives him advantage to attack but also gives his enemies advantage to attack HIM - this could serve as a version of decoy-ing, drawing attention and fire. As he levels up, he’ll also gain Extra Attack and Fast Movement (self explanatory) and Feral Instinct which makes him less likely to be Surprised, and more likely to be the first to jump into battle

- The most fun part though of course are his wild surges of magic, since he is a Wild Magic Barbarian. This means random magical effects can sometimes happen as a side-effect of his actions - things which can be helpful like ‘temporarily infuse your weapon with magic’, but can also be things like ‘deal necrotic damage to everyone around you, including your allies’. I think this is a really fun way of translating Hinata’s incredible abilities which at the beginning of the series, he has little control over. He can pull off amazing feats, but he can’t recreate them on demand, and sometimes it’s more of a hindrance than a help

- Narratively, he’s trying to learn to control his emerging magical abilities by multiclassing into Sorcerer and training with Kageyama. This means he can now cast spells on purpose as well as accidentally but it also increases the wackiness and power of the magical accidents he can cause. These now include gems like ‘involuntarily cast Fireball at 3rd level, centred on yourself’ and ‘you are transported to the Astral Plane until the start of your next turn’, but also ‘for the next minute, you can teleport 20 feet as a bonus action’

- As a sidenote Hinata also has by far the highest hitpoints, which represents the amount of time he’s able to get hit and keep on going, and the highest initiative which means he’s likely to be acting first in a fight

-

KAGEYAMA: DROW SORCERER

- Kageyama HAD to be a sorcerer to me because that’s the class that has innate magical ability, which is the best parallel for his prodigy status and natural volleyball talents (as opposed to a wizard like Tsukishima who has to learn from a spellbook)

- As a sorcerer, Metamagic also gives him increased control over his spells, which I think is perfect for him as it represents his incredible control over the ball. I picked ‘Careful Spell’, which lets him essentially cast an AOE spell but avoid his allies, and ‘Seeking Spell’ which lets his spells bend around obstacles to reach their intended target.

- He takes the origin of the Clockwork Soul - this gives him the ‘Restore Balance’ ability which lets him remove ‘advantage’ from his enemies and remove ‘disadvantage’ from his allies. I saw this as a good way of representing his setting responsibilities of opening a good opportunity for his spikers; if the opposing side would have had an advantage, Kageyama can take that advantage away. It’s also a fun mirror to Hinata’s ‘Tides of Chaos’ ability, which lets him GAIN advantage.

- I also imagine him using a lot of buffing spells like ‘Enhance Ability’ and ‘Aid’, bringing the best out of his allies

- He’s a Drow/Dark Elf because I wanted him to be edgy (silly answer) - for real though, he has a terrifying reputation as Drow are considered automatically evil, and it’s a reputation he… only partially deserves. He IS a powerful and dangerous sorcerer, but he’s not evil, in fact he’s doing his best to do good in the ways he knows how, but his demeanour in combination with people’s assumptions mean that he’s never been able to keep a party or erase the negative rumours. Only now, with the other first years making an effort to understand him, is he starting to find more of a place in the world.

-

TSUKISHIMA: HALF-ELF WIZARD

- Tsukki is a wizard because that’s the spellcasting class that studies magic from spellbooks and that’s just his vibe. I can imagine him being frustrated with Hinata and Kageyama’s natural sorcery abilities, in a parallel to his view of them as Volleyball Monsters who have innate power he just doesn’t have.

- I imagine him being a very by-the-book wizard in the beginning, mostly using utility spells like ‘Comprehend Languages’ and ‘Detect Magic’. He’s uncomfortable in combat and probably casts Magic Missile every turn because it’s one of the only spells that’s guaranteed to hit its target - this mirrors his early series attitude of playing it safe and coasting on his abilities instead of pushing to be better.

- As part of the start of his growth, he’s taking the path of chronurgy magic. This gives him ‘Chronal Shift’, which means he can force opponents or allies to re-roll certain actions, potentially turning a success into a failure or visa-versa after seeing how the original roll turns out. I think this is a fun representation of him coming into his blocking abilities, letting him essentially say ‘oh Ushiwaka spikes it in? Actually no he doesn’t, roll again’. At higher levels, he’ll even be able to dictate what the new roll is, and he can also cast spells but save their effects for later, which parallels his ability to form long-game strategies which don’t pay off for a while.

- I’ve also said he starts using spells like ‘Augury’ which lets him see whether the outcome of a certain action will be overall good or bad, and ‘Suggestion’, which lets him bait opponents to do what he wants - developing the strategic skills that will eventually make him a real asset in combat

- He’s a half-elf partly because Yamaguchi is human and Kageyama is an Elf - Tsukki is special, but he’s not THAT special, in a middle-ground when it comes to his natural talent. Yamaguchi definitely looks up to him as someone special and magical, but Tsukki doesn’t see himself that way compared to ‘real’ elves and ‘natural’ spellcasters.

-

YAMAGUCHI: HUMAN FIGHTER/RANGER

- Since Yamaguchi is the most ‘normal’ of the first years and the only one not on the starting lineup in the show, it made sense to make him the most ‘normal’ option of a human fighter, which is a combination that’s sometimes considered basic or boring but can actually be invaluable when it’s used well. He considers himself the weakest link on the team at first because he isn’t magical like the others, but his martial abilities often give the team the edge in combat.

- Instead of the usual human ability increase, I gave him the feat of Martial Adept, letting him take Battle Master Manoeuvres. He has ‘Trip Attack’ and ‘Disarming Attack’ which means he can knock down and disarm enemies rather than just damaging them, giving his allies an opening to attack more easily. This is a great parallel to his pinch serving, which breaks up the opposing team’s formation and gives his teammates the opportunity to strike!

- As a Banneret fighter he ‘inspires greatness in others by committing great deeds in battle’, foreshadowing his role as eventual team captain!! He gains ‘Rallying Cry’ which bolsters his allies along with himself, and in the future he’ll be able to give them extra actions as well

- Yamaguchi has also taken a level of ‘Ranger’ now that the party is on the road, giving him survival and travelling skills that the other’s don’t have. It’s also starting to give him a small amount of magical power, which he doesn’t have the hang of yet (I’m fudging this a bit for narrative). I’m seeing this as a kind of parallel to his canon arc of finding a way to fight with what HE can do, finding his own niche that ends up being invaluable to the team.

- Yamaguchi also has by far the most balances stats and I think often ends up as the ‘face’ of the party even though he has the lowest Charisma score and would really rather ANYBODY else was doing the talking. But Kageyama is too likely to offend, Hinata can be overwhelming or accidentally confrontational, Yachi is too nervous, and Tsukki hates talking to people even more than Yamaguchi does. Poor Yamaguchi.

-

YACHI: ROCK GNOME ARTIFICER

- To match her manager roll Yachi needed to be a support class, and I really like the idea of her being an artificer rather than a traditional spellcaster. Rather than always using innate magic, she’s learned a specific set of skills which allows her to create magical artefacts and potions, thus helping her party to be stronger even if she isn’t often in combat herself

- Being a rock gnome gives her more knowledge of magical technology, and allows her to ‘tinker’, constructing small clockwork devices with simple functions like starting a fire. being an artificer means she has ‘magical tinker’ as well, meaning she can infuse objects with a spark of magic to produce a small effect in a similar way.

- ‘Infuse Item’ gives her more powerful abilities along these lines, letting her imbue objects with magic. I gave her the infusions ‘Returning Weapon’ (a weapon can be summoned back to the user after being thrown), ‘Enhanced Weapon’ (this and the previous feel good for assisting Hinata and Yamaguchi,, ‘Replicate magical item’ (feels fitting for her smarts and the way she’s good at absorbing knowledge from what’s around her), and ‘Enhanced Arcane focus’ (good for assisting Tsukishima). Her different abilities mean she can be a huge help to all her teammates in different ways, just like as a manager she has different approaches to helping out the different team members

- She has the specialty ‘alchemist’ which lets her make potions and cast some healing spells. however, it also lets her create ‘experimental elixirs’, which have a random effect. though yachi is more level-headed than most on the team, she is still a member of karasuno with the capability of pushing the envelope and growing in exciting ways, so I felt like this was a fun way of representing her own passion and enthusiasm for trying new things, as well as fitting for someone who’s spent a lot of time with a wild-magic user like hinata

- ‘The Right Tool For The Job’ means with time, she can create the perfect tool for the task the party needs, showing her smarts and her ability to solve specific problems with the right solution - something I think she shows in the series with how she has such good advice for the team on many occasions.

- Yachi also has the highest wisdom of the party, meaning she’s the best at insight and reading emotional situations, such as telling when people are lying.

[m1rotics]

Possessive

cult leader's son!hongjoong x fem!reader (however body isn't mentioned

this is literally just hongjoong being a weird little freak but this marks the end of her ability to be friends with anyone besides him. hongjoong is a HUGE red flag.

hongjoong is staring again, you can see him over yunho's shoulder, off in the distance, next to someone's house. you can see his wide eyes trained on you. you force your gaze back to yunho with his bright smile and kind eyes. he's cute. charming. the kind of boy that oozes happiness. you're pretty sure he bleeds sunshine.

yunho's a nice boy. he's fourteen just like you. he's so sweet, it makes your teeth ache. he's got an easy laugh, and he helps your neighbors out from time to time— hell, he's even helped your mom a few times. he's everything hongjoong is not, and that— that bores you. thinking too much about it feels like pressing on a nasty bruise, so naturally, you ignore it.

despite the realization that this is beyond rude, your eyes wander back to hongjoong. he tilts his head, and grins but it doesn't reach his eyes. it's not mirthful. it's lackluster, dull like a rusty blade. it's barely visible, and you barely make out the idents of it but somehow you see it. then, his mouth starts moving, "come here."

your eyes drift back to yunho, tuning back into what he's saying. something about his brother, whose name you didn't catch, and how the heat has been killing him lately . mundane stuff. immediately, your mind jumps to other things. you don't know what hongjoong wants from you because he hasn't talked to you since that time by the river, and you're not close, like, at all. (you choose to disregard how bummed out you were when he started keeping his distance again.) you're barely even acquaintances.

you look past him again, but hongjoong isn't there anymore. you don't think he's gone far though, he wouldn't have. he wants you to come to him.

and that's what you do.

looking at yunho, you cut off his ramblings with a small, "it's been so nice talking to you but I have to go."

yunho pauses, eyebrows knitting together. he scans your face like you're a puzzle, trying to understand. after finding nothing, he says, "um, okay."

you don't give him any time to ask questions, rushing off in the direction you saw hongjoong. it doesn't matter that he's gone, you'll find him somewhere in the area. once you make it, a hand tugs you behind the building. you stumble a bit, narrowly catching yourself on the wall. you turn around to face him, hongjoong doesn't say anything, simply looks.

"wha-"

"who was that?" he snaps, cutting you off.

"who? yunho?"

"you know his name" he says, terse "is he your friend?"

"kinda," you mutter, and hongjoong smiles again. it's sharp this time, threatening. he steps closer and you back up, "really? you two seemed close."

stunned, your mouth opens and closes. there's so many questions running through your head, that all your words die on your tongue. hongjoong inches closer, you back away as much as you can until your back hits the wall.

"tell me, is he your boyfriend?"

you vehemently shake your head. hongjoong laughs; short puffs of air through his nose.

"then you must be fucking him? is that why he looks at you like that? because he's been sticking his dick in you."

the words impale you, leave you stuck there, choking on air. they poison your blood, make your heart pick up. beating faster.

"why," you swallow, throat dry, "do you care?"

hongjoong's eye twitches and he sneers, borderline snarling; mouth curled like a wild dog. he looks feral. he looks mean. dead eyes staring back at you. they bounce around from your eyes, to your nose, to your mouth and back up. his hands settle on your arms, slightly below your shoulders, and squeezes. his grip aches. you can feel the bruises blooming beneath his fingertips.

"I care," he spits, his tone scathing, "because you're mine."

you blink dumbly. hummingbird heart pounding in your chest, beating against the cage of your ribs. you would've laughed at the childish decree if the situation was different, if anyone else uttered such nonsense, but it's hongjoong saying it that makes it difficult.

"do you understand?"

slowly, you nod.

hongjoong's grip eases up a bit, "good, but I want to hear you say it."

"I'm yours," you mumble. you can't tell if you're embarrassed or shy or nervous and this feels like selling yourself away. what you do know is that your stomach is flipping and eating itself from whatever it is that you're feeling and looking at hongjoong's surprisingly pleased expression, you think you might've gotten in over your head.

in a flash, hongjoong's back to normal like nothing ever happened. his face blank, eyes vacant, hands dropping to his side, "it'll be in your best interest not to forget it."

and with that said, he leaves.

[black-wolf066]

You Tease

This is a gift for @shes-an-odd-bird because we all seem to be in a feral mood this week and I’m hoping it’ll help tame our hormones.

((This is my first ever Character/reader piece… and it’s been a very long time since I’ve written any smut, now that I think about it… so keep that in mind as you read. 😅 Also note, this is an established relationship between Billy and Reader with both being mid-twenties)).

All smut/no plot (because I can’t brain enough to think of a plot right now) so, minors do not engage.

Warnings: Unprotected sex. Language

"Have I ever told you how hot you look in my clothes?" Billy practically purred in your ear; keeping you caged between himself and the bedroom wall.

The clothing in question was his old gym shorts. You had found them laying behind the dryer when you’d moved it to clean the vent earlier that day—must have fallen back there unbeknownst to either of you. You had cleaned them, but rather than storing them away for him to find as a surprise later, you wore them instead—knowing what wearing his clothes would do to him and being utterly ecstatic that he was proving your hopes correct for how this night was going to go.

“You’ve mentioned it, yes.” You quipped back, pressing your forehead hard against the drywall as shivers of anticipation shot down your spine.

You felt the fingers of his left-hand toying with the waistband, while his other glided purposefully up your side—taking the fabric of your tank with it until he had it bunched up under your chin. You had decidedly forgone wearing a bra that morning, which meant your breasts and stomach were exposed to the chilled surface and the AC in the room; though, it did very little to counteract the heated flush of your growing excitement.

“Was wondering where these disappeared too.” He muttered as he pulled against the band and released; the elastic snapping at your hip making you jump a little. “Thought maybe they’d been tossed.”

You weren’t paying much attention to what he was saying; squirming at the feeling of his hot breath against the shell of your ear. The pleasant Goosebumps rising where the pads of his fingers continued to toy and trail feather-light against your newly exposed skin.

“I—” whatever you were going to say was lost, voice breaking off on a lengthy whine as his hips suddenly bucked roughly against you.

“What was that babe? I don’t think I caught that.” he teased playfully, knowing exactly the effect he was having on you and your sudden inability to articulate.

You would have huffed something snarky at him if you weren’t so distracted. The stimulation of his light touch, the scratchy feel of the dry wall rubbing at your sensitive nipples, the heat radiating into your back from his naked torso, and the rough grinding of his clothed stirring erection against your ass; had you dazed and breathless.

And hungry for more.

“Billy.” You managed to moan out; wiggling backward—as best you could with the little space he was giving you—to meet his grinding with a thrust of your own.

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Billy.”

“What do you want?” he breathily chuckled as he finally moved away from your ear to bite and suckle at the pulse point thrumming wildly beneath it. “Use your words, babe.”

Shit, this man was going to be the death of you.

“F—” you swallowed thickly, writhing under his ministrations and the over-stimulation; feeling close to cumming then and there as you forced out, “Fuck me.”

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

He moved away just enough to unzip and drop his jeans, but not enough for you to lose your balance. Not like it stopped you from reaching up to grasp the wall for support anyways, breath hitching as you felt his fingers breach the waistband and slide the shorts down until they fell at your ankles. You kicked them away quickly before a surprised squeak escaped as you felt yourself being lifted and turned, your back now pressed against the wall as you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips.

Your tank top was the last to go before his mouth found your lips seconds later in a messy tangle of tongue and teeth; grinding his thick girth against your wet folds while your hands found their way up into his curls.

“You’re already soaked, bet I could just slide right in.” he taunted, nudging the head of his fat cock teasingly at your opening but not dipping beyond that.

If he didn’t move right now; you were going to lose your goddamn mind.

“Fuck me.” You repeated forcibly against his lips.

You tightened your ankles at his back and bounced yourself a little; impatiently hoping it would get you what you wanted faster; only for stars to dance across your vision when the head slipped and nudged up against your clit.

“And you say I’m the brat?”

“Billy.”

His huff of aroused amusement was your only warning before he shifted and thrusted shallowly into you; stretching you deliciously—and maddeningly slowly the absolute jerk.

“This what you wanted?” he questioned huskily, continuing the shallow rolling that had your toes curling. “Did you wear my shorts hoping I’d fuck you tonight?”

“Y--es!” you yelped as he nipped lightly at your earlobe.

“Oh, baby, you know all you gotta do is ask.” He chuckled. “Though, can’t say I’m opposed to the method. Did get us here—” he punctuated his point by finally—blissfully—sliding himself home inside you. “—a bit quicker.”

You buried your face into his shoulder, muffling the guttural whine that squeezed out of your lungs by biting down at the sinew there. The feeling of being speared open by Billy always dazed you, something you hoped you’d never get used too.

“Fuck,” Billy grunted out his own throaty moan at feeling your teeth.

His hips bucked involuntarily, causing your eyes to nearly roll to the back of your head as the movement pushed him just that little bit deeper. The pleasure-pain of him hitting your cervix and his pubic bone grinding just so on your clit, sent a violent spark of fireworks to burst cross your vision as you climaxed.

“Shit, shit.” He keened gruffly, probably not expecting you to orgasm as quickly as you had—for you certainly didn’t expect it either, not that you had any mind to care at the moment—as you felt your walls fluttering and squeezing all around him.

“Sh--shit.” You echoed him; feeling as though you were floating on cloud 9, body loosening and relaxing with Billy’s powerful biceps and the wall being the only thing keeping you from falling flat on your ass.

“You good?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” you nodded, and pressed your heels into the small of his back to urge him to continue. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Billy didn’t need much more prompting, his teasing long forgotten as he began to roll and thrust his hips in earnest to chase his own climax.

All you could do was try and hold on for dear life, as he pounded into you; your muscles still not quite cooperating enough to help him along.

“Damn baby, you feel so good.” The obscene wet squelching of skin on skin and the heady scent of sex filled the air as he continued his bruising pace—though you could tell he was getting close. “Think you got another one in you?”

You could feel your pleasure climbing again, your limbs finally following your silent command as you clumsily met him thrust for thrust. You didn’t trust your voice though, so you nodded and sent the next breathy moan directly into his ear, causing him to curse as his hips stuttered.

“Shit.” He moaned. “That’s my girl.”

The praise paired with the intentional grinding of his pubic bone against your clit sent you over the edge again, very nearly screaming at the intensity of the second wave that crashed into you.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s it. That’s a good girl.” He panted into your neck, snapping his hips several more times before your tight, fluttering, walls were milking him of his own orgasm.

Neither of you moved for a while, both of you fighting to catch your breath and come down from the high. The tingling sensation was beginning to subside as you buried your face in his neck; breathing in the sweaty musk of him as your limbs began to go boneless. Billy was muttering something into the skin of your own neck, but you couldn’t hear it, ears still ringing a little—though you had a feeling you knew exactly what was being muttered.

It was only when you felt Billy’s muscles beginning to strain, that you tried to get him to drop you back on your feet, but he didn’t budge. He only held on a bit tighter as he shifted your weight; your back leaving the support of the wall as he finally moved you both toward the bed.

He fell into the mattress with you still secured in his arms, but the movement caused him to finally slip out. You released an involuntary whimper at the loss of feeling full that had him chuckling at your expense.

“Hush,” you snarked and nuzzled your nose against his collarbone; feeling his fingers trail up and down your spine and relishing in the warmth and smell of the post coital bliss for as long as you could.

You were on the verge of sleep when his quiet voice pulled you back.

“Where did you find them anyway?”

“Hmm?”

“My shorts. Where did you find them?”

“Behind the dryer.” You muttered drowsily; grumbling when his chuckle jostled you.

“Did I wear you out that much?” he asked in amusement; fingers still gently following the path of your spine. You hummed in response, the call of sleep too much to ignore. “And here I thought we’d have time to go another round.”

“Hmm… wake me in an hour.”

His answering laugh followed you into your dreams.

[dark-moonlust]

Period Pain, Cravings and Snuggles Part 1

Pairing: werewolf oc x female oc

Summary: Logan takes care of his wife Erin who has bad period cramps.

Warnings: mentions of period pain and discomfort, extreme fluff and cuteness, intimacy, snuggling, pure comfort!

Hello, moonlust friends! This is in 1st POV, and it's extremely snuggly! 🩷 Happy reading! Part 2 with all the smut is on patreοn.

Erin 

The rain pattered softly against the windowpane, in a soothing rhythm that contrasted with the sharp ache hitting my lower stomach. My fortress of blankets and pillows on the couch felt like my only solace today, but even their warmth couldn’t make me forget the heavy haze of cramps and lethargy. I shifted, wincing slightly, and clutched the heating pad tighter to my belly.

A low growl echoed in the room, followed by the sight of my husband, Logan. He stood at the door, a cup of freshly brewed tea in his clawed hand. His dark brown fur was magnificent, slick and shiny and his warm hazel eyes glinted softly in the dim light of the room. His scent was earthy and spiced, mingled with the faint musk of cedarwood and something raw, something that clung to him no matter what.

My husband was unlike any other, a werewolf in all his glory— a creature of the wild fitting perfectly into domesticity.

And he was mine. Every feral, growly inch of him.

“Hey, love,” I said, my lips curving in a smile despite the discomfort twisting inside me.

“Hey, sweetheart,” came his deep voice. “You hiding in here all cozy without me?”

“Not hiding,” I murmur. “Just trying not to die.”

“Not on my watch. I’ve brought you some tea.”

In two wide strides, he was beside me, his bare feet soundless on the hardwood floor. He placed the warm mug of tea on the coffee table. Before I could even think to move, he knelt in front of me, his large hands gently tugging my blankets down. Making way for his warm hands to fondle me.

“I can scent your discomfort, sweetheart. Let me help you.”

“It’s just cramps,” I muttered. Logan was used to my having bad period cramps but I always felt so foolishly shy about it.

“Just cramps?” He tutted. “You know better than to lie to me, sweetheart. I'm your mate and husband. And I’ll take care of you."

There was no denying the warmth in his touch as he placed his large, warm paw on my lower tummy. It was even better than the heating pad, which I promptly tossed aside. The heat from him sunk through my thin shirt, relieving the discomfort slightly. He rubbed round and round and it was so damn good. His other hand swept a stray strand of hair off my face, the sharp edges of his nails still brushing my skin in that familiar, electric way.

“Drink your tea, sweetheart,” he said and watched me carefully.

I did as told, consuming the warm liquid. It was soothing and just what I needed. Once I emptied my cup, Logan quickly lit up the fireplace in the corner. Then he was back, his towering frame hanging over me.

"You've been curled up here all day, sweetheart," he purred.

"Mm-hmm. I believe I’m one with the couch now.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Good thing I know how to unstick you."

Then he was grabbing me, blankets and all. A happy squeak escaped my lips as he cradled me against his chest, his arms carrying me as if I weighed nothing.

"Logan!" I said weakly, but the sound faded into a sigh as he seated us down in the large couch next to the fireplace.

"There," he breathed, laying me on his lap and securing the blankets around us both. His hands moved instinctively, rubbing slow, abstract circles across my lower back.

"Better?"

I nodded and leaned my head against his shoulder, the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my ear. "Better," I said gently.

He purred, pressing his nose to my hair, inhaling deeply. “You smell of lavender. And chocolate. Did you take snacks from the stockpile I hid in the pantry?"

I grinned. "You hid it in the wrong spot.”

"Good. It was the stockpile I keep for emergencies and today is an emergency.” He smiled. “I will buy you more and do whatever you ask me to.”

I sighed and snuggled closer to his warmth. "Hhmm… will you bake a cake for me, hubby?”

“You bet, sweetheart.”

“How about cookies?”

"Consider it done.”

“Something salty, too. Hmm… pizza?”

“Sure thing.”

I beamed. “What about a kiss?”

He grinned. “That, I’ll give you in abundance.”

Tipping his head, he kissed me, his tongue coaxing my mouth open and licking inside. I moaned and cupped his furry face. He devoured me tenderly, careful not to hurt me with his sharp fangs. His hand found its way to my belly, rubbing and chasing away the period pains. His presence, his touches, his kisses were so soft and achingly beautiful. When we pulled back, we were both breathing hard.

“Thanks for always being here for me," I said quietly, my hand tracing his jawline.

"Always."

🐺

Logan

Pale moonlight danced through the half-drawn curtains, enveloping my wife’s sleeping face in a silvery embrace. She was nestled against me, her cheek smushed against my chest. Her breath was a gentle whisper, her fingers delicately gripping the fabric of my shirt as if fearing I might disappear the moment she released her hold.

I pulled her tighter against me and nuzzled the top of her head, enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth, shielding her from the burdens and weariness that had shadowed her throughout the day. I hated it when she had period cramps. Not the period itself, she had explained how good it was for her health but the pain… fuck… and this was just day one.

I would have to be more caring with her tomorrow.

Her cramps were always the worst the day after.

Today I’d made her favorite food and sweets, watched her consume them with a happy smile despite the heavy flow and pain.

I made a mental note, planning the day while she shifted about with a whine, her form blending with mine as if we were sculpted from the same marble. This woman fitted so damned perfectly in my body. My mate, my wife, my one and only. Even in the depths of her sleep, she placed her faith in me to keep her safe.

The gentle rhythm of her breath enveloped the space, blending in with the pitter patter of rain as it hit the windowpane. She whined again and my hand moved carefully, making gentle, languid circles along the curve of her spine. I fondled every delicate curve and gentle dip of her form that was forever imprinted in my heart. Erin had a softness that captivated, plus grace and humor that had attracted me at first glance.

“Mm… more,” she whispered in her sleep, her voice a low, sultry murmur.

She rubbed herself against me and I caressed the curve of her hip hidden beneath the blanket. I lingered just above her thigh, careful not to disturb her sleep. Then I slipped my hand beneath her shirt, my palm resting against her lower belly.

I could feel the pulses of pain in her womb. I fondled there gently and a soft sound left her — something between a sigh and a hum — her eyelids fluttering softly without waking. A small smile on her face, she remained asleep, nuzzling closer, her nose poking my collarbone.

Leaning my head, I let my snout graze her hairline, her sweet-smelling strands brushing against my mouth. I rubbed her stomach, let the warmth of my palm soothe the ache. Meanwhile, her scent lingered in the air, a blend of lavender and the unique essence that is entirely her own.

“It will be alright, sweetheart,” I breathed softly against her skin.

Did you enjoy? Shares and comments are greatly appreciated! Plus, would you be into a whole series of monsters taking care of their menstruating mates? Let me know!

[nawoken]

im back with more thoughts on soulbound au. Wjat if reader's Soulmate got isekaied to twst and expected reader to return to them cuz theyre soulmates as if they didnt just reject the name on their wrist, as if they have the right to just demand it even as reader is with the first years now (excluding ortho grim). How would the boys react to reader just snapping and declaring they feel no love for soulmate. That they love their current partner instead. I can imagine some of them just gloating and acting like a really doting partner in front of the soulmate like "look what you cant have"

Bonus for grim and ortho like "who needs you when i have my feral cat/technological humanoid built by a genius. Get his ass!" And they just send grim and ortho out like pokemons LMAO

Love yourself

(TWST x Broken Soulbond! Reader)

5.C: Hehe, I’m glad u have the same thought as mine, Mortal~

Because as petty as I am, since the moment I had the idea for this AU, I already have the scene where your Soulmate by some way gets to TWST and wants the reader back but gets rejected by them.

I mean, who do they think they are, broke the strongest bond in the world and then came back and demanded it like they deserve it?!

The name has two meanings since the content of this one chapter reminded me of "Love Yourself" by Justin Bieber as something reader would want to tell their Soulmate. The other is just simply loving yourself, something I want to tell you guys and myself.

Pairing: Ace Trappolar; Deuce Spade x g/n Reader

I will do the other later I guess, sorry for the late update, I have writer's block for this one, including my absence due to January cause I have a school break.

Warning: :D)

The moment your Soulmate lands their ass at TWST, you can feel the tug in your heart, the arch, the itch of your Soulmark, and the familiar pulling come from your soul that you’ve almost forgotten during your stay at twisted wonderland. That’s how you know they’re here, and they also feel your faint presence.

The moment your Soulmate lands their ass at TWST, you can feel the tug in your heart, the arch, the itch of your Soulmark, and the familiar pulling come from your soul that you’ve almost forgotten during your stay at twisted wonderland. That’s how you know they’re here, and they also feel your faint presence.

Ace Trappola:

He is unhappy when hearing that your Soulmate has spawned in TWST. (Let’s be real, all of them are, maybe except Kalim or Vil…)

He is sulking the whole way both of you walk to the Headmage office cause apparently, your Soulmate demands to see you the moment they know you’re here.

Ace refuses to let you meet that person alone, Crowley? That crow can not be trusted.

Hearing them ask you to go back, with them, and by their side. Ace glares hard as if if he tries enough, that person will disappear.

They, in fact, do not disappear though.

Plan B, Ace starts to make some comments, he is sarcastic about your Soulmate, berating their behavior toward you.

He interferes every time you try to speak up, to give your supposed to be Soulmate an answer. Basically, he is being annoying till the point you have to kick him out of the room.

Ace doesn't really want to hear your answer, deep down, he worries that you will actually choose your Soulmate over him.

Waiting outside until you finish your conversation, no matter how long it takes.

Seeing you walking out of the room, he tries to act like he doesn't care. But he cares, a lot actually.

Tell him you have rejected the request since... you already have him as your Soulmate while showing him the Basketball wrist wrap he gave you.

Gotta say Heartslabyul is very good at growing tomatoes.

The following days were a series of days, each time you guys pass by your Soulmate, Ace will give them a smug look while walking hand in hand with you.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce, our sweetheart. The first thing he does after he hears that your Soulmate wants to meet you: Asks if you want him to beat them for you.

I mean, ask if you want him to assist you or do you prefer meeting them alone because model students don’t fight (Please bring him with you Ơ ^ Ơ).

It actually doesn’t matter, he will still follow you if you choose the second option, but more secretly (not really).

He doesn’t like your Soulmate, not a bit. But hearing your Soulmate’s request? He almost let them drown under at least three cauldrons (If you are quick enough).

How dare they be so casual about it? Do they not know how much you suffer?

But, Deuce will respect your choice, even if it can be hurtful. Telling you that it is okay if you want to be back with them. He is on the verge of crying, a sad puppy.

Do you really mean that he is more important than the Soulbond?

Give you a tight hug, I mean, a really tight one. He thought that he was going to lose you. But he is happy now, with the brightest smile present on his face.

And now your ex-Soulmates is being the third wheel here.

[shawtylex09]

Foaming at the mouth, on my knees, sobbing, barking- I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE IZUKU!!! He is such a stupid nerd I love him<3

Anyway!! Feel free to not answer if you don't wanna, that's ok! But how do you think Izu would act with a reader that loves to bite or mark him?? He just makes me feral he's so cute and I need to have my mouth on him<33

KANAKSBJA I love you anon, giving me motivation- STAWWWP anyways here’s a cute lil thingy for you;

You and Izuku had been dating for about 6ish months, the two of you had gotten quite comfortable with each other, and gotten used to each others habits and quirks.

However, there was one thing Izuku couldn’t ever really get over.

Your biting.

It wasn’t ever super hard, but sometimes, you just had to stim, and that would result in biting on Izukus hand, or his neck, or his arms, or shoulders- really anywhere.

It wasn’t that he had a problem with it, it was more so, he just simply didn’t understand.

The two of you were laying in his bed, a quiet Saturday afternoon, escaping from the dog days of July.

You were sitting between his thighs on his bed, leaning back against his chest while the two of you scrolled randomly on your phone.

You felt that familiar energy start to pool in your calves and in your finger tips, making you bounce your leg and pick at your cuticles.

Your jaw clenched and you clicked your teeth together, before Izuku rested his chin on your shoulder. “Sweetheart? Are you okay?” He asked softly, his voice gentle and quiet in your ear.

You hummed and gritted your teeth together, feeling the need to chew on something, however, you’d forgotten to grab your gum, and didn’t have any suckers with you.

“Yeah I’m alright, jus’ stimming love” you muttered with a clenched jaw.

Izuku knew faintly about your stimming. He hadn’t actually been aware that he himself stimmed before you caught him chewing on his lips and twirling pencils between his fingers or snapping his fingers.

He hummed before he tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling softly “you wanna chew?” He asked, offering his palm to you.

You glanced at him, and swooned. “Are you sure Zuku? I know sometimes my teeth leave marks” you muttered, a bit unsure. In reality, you loved seeing your bite marks or hickeys on Izuku’s skin- it wasnt even a sexual thing, it was just..nice.

Izuku nodded and smiled, clicking off your phone and placing it on the night stand “yeah, I’m sure baby”

You smiled at him and turned sligjtly to kiss his cheek “I love you, you know that?”

Izuku turned bright red and smiled, pecking your lips “I love you too”

He didn’t protest as you grabbed his hand, bringing the meat of his thumb to your mouth and lightly biting on it. Your jaw finally stopped buzzing as badly, and you let out a sigh of relief through your nose.

Izuku smiled and gently carded his fingers through your hair as you left a few teeth marks on his hand, eventually turning around to sit on his lap and leave bites on his shoulders and neck.

A soft, sigh left him as he angled his head to the side, feeling your teeth pressing into his neck. It hurt a little, but after training and breaking his bones over and over again, his pain tolerance really improved.

Izuku gently rubbed your back smiling softly as he felt you trail like kisses across the bites on his swollen skin. He knew you didn’t want to hurt him, and it was all out of affection, and he accept your little habit with open arms.

After all, how often was it that guys found girlfriends who liked to stake their claim on them?

So I’m short; Izuku loves when you’re stimming and need a source of relief, he’ll gladly offer his hands or neck to you, allowing you to bite or pick at his skin.

He loves you either way, and your stims didn’t deter him at all 💚

Also I literally LOVE when y’all give me motivation. Give me more askes grrr

[milawayr]

I have something to confess, actually I haven't even seen outer banks nor I'm interested in watching it, but like Rafe Cameron? Makes me wild, that man makes me go feral, I just knooooooow he's like some kind of psychopath he's CRAZY, his head is damaged but I waaant him he drives me mad, so all I do is read fics about him because I really like him, that man's so gorgeous I don't know what to do with myself.

Fix him? NO, I like him just the way he is

Anyway, I just wanted to say that thank you haha

[insane4fandoms]

GGGGGAAHHHH I SAW THIS BUT I HAD TO WORK

NOW IM HERE AND IM GOING INSANE

Anyways-

MAD TOOK CARE OF HIS WOUNDS. MAD TOOK CARE OF HIS WOUNDS. SOMEONE HOLD ME FOWN IM GOING FERAL (did I mention I love brother dynamics in media?/J)

Always been fascinated with the Bystander Effect myself. It’s bittersweet that no one really does anything when one bad things happens until ONE person steps up to intervene. My theater friends has a running joke about it, as when we see one of us jokingly getting scolded by tech crew, we would run in and shout: “I will NOT be a bystander!!” Good times.

Ugh, Casey doesn’t even believe that someone like mad, a psychopathic child murderer, would actually tend to the bullets wounds and keep him alive if not wanting something from him. Mad just wants to have his baby brother back (he still believes that he can have a relationship with Casey as if the things he did doesn’t matter)

FNAF LORE MENTIONED!! Actually insane that the goofy puppet hand animatronics are possessed by the ghosts of children, the FNAF:TM lore is just as crazy as the game version cuz it’s doing too much 😭

OOOO POCKET WATCH COMIC MOMENT MENTIONED TOO!! Also, I can’t wait to put more dept into them as kids and their relationship with Father Time (the man under the clock for those wondering) and yes, he will be based on a YouTuber >:)

Ugh, love the way you described Mad’s robot hands, gives me chills legit. I also feel that despite the hatred, the small inner child of Casey who adored Mad is the reason he asked about his hands.

Now THIS is why he’s a detective/private investigator, he knows so much from just the evidence he gains and caught Mad off guard, that’s my man! (Proud creator moment)

Get him Casey, rip on him and his flaws and insecurities! Tear down his pride and make him feel insignificant against all those other criminals!! >:)

GOD the way Mad’s anger issues is written I was scared for my boy Casey 😔 I like the thought of him storming out to try and calm down to not and accidentally hurt him reminds me whenever I annoy my brother too much he’ll proceed to walk away into his room in order to not drop kick me.

Poor Azalea, having to be the one able to fit through the doggy door, but I guess that’s an upside to being the shortest ig. Cal will definitely make fun of her in the future lmao.

Casey is completely done with these people lol, my man just revealed himself from the shadows and only then actually gave those two a scare. Bro does NOT want to deal with Mad, nevertheless the Pentas members.

He doesn’t even believe that they willingly went out of their way to rescue him 😭 he needs to know there’s people who care about him (even if in a weird way of caring)

Poor guy, he’s having a ptsd moment. Would give him a big old hug if I wasn’t scared to go near him. (Also logically you don’t hug someone who is in a mental state while experiencing ptsd anyways-)

Mad stalking around looking Casey while he trying to coax him into coming out is giving when your siblings hits you too hard and they’re trying to make you not cry to your parents 🥲 that was me on both ends fr

Since Ethan is 5’8, I give his props for carrying Casey’s 6’3 ass away while Azalea helps her brother.

GIRLBOSS MOMENT FROM AZALEA YOU GO GIRL!! INJECT VENOM INTO HIS BLOOD STREAM AND MAKE HIM WRITHE IN AGONY!!

It’s giving that one blooper moment FNAF:TM where Matt accidentally threw the chair into the wall so hard it got stuck and they just stood there like 🧍🧍

Audibly chuckled on the Tuna melt comment, never fail to make me laugh Caliban.

RRAHHHG I CANT WAIT FOR MORE!! Waiting for more Phoenix lol. Bet Scout is excited to see Casey again, cuz I am excited to see more snippets!

You changed,

You haven’t

A follow up to our lovely collab with @wouldntyou-liketoknow, this is more of a flashback to kinda get into the relationship between Casey and Mad through Mad’s eyes. It may never erase what he’s done, but it may show a glimpse as to why he can’t seem to let Casey go.

Has always been, and always will be known as a monster, yet one soul decided to take a chance, to hold his hand and make him feel something more than just a monster. He was more in that person’s eyes, and he never wanted to let go of that feeling. The simple single touch of another who never views him as nothing more than a…

Shame he no longer can feel the touch.

@crazy-obsessed-enby @iswmperson @lexusinsannus @sammys-magical-au @wouldntyou-liketoknow @the-matpat-ever

He can only dream.

[cillixn]

I need to both both smother burt with as much love as that beautiful man can physically handle and also have him do unspeakable things to me that would probably get me on the FBI watch list.

(I mean I would do that with all of Paul's characters but Burt..God I don't want to fix him I want him to ruin me-)

Hope your doing lovley! Happy Easter, Ramadan or whatever holiday you celebrate this time a year! Personally I'm celebrating Easter since im catholic so no meat for the next two days😭

-💌

SO real 💀💀💀 omg i never thought i’d ever thirst this hard over a man named fucking burt lmaoo but i’m afraid he’s got me like

also thank you 🥺💘💘 i hope you have an absolutely wonderful easter, my dear 💌 anon! 💖