#this one isn't as fluffy as the other ones Tumblr posts

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

cang qiong dragon god shen yuan is probably like so old that time doesn’t have meaning? like he transmigrated into pidw as a dragon and and the system gave him a few missions that functionally amounted to ‘claim this mountain range as your territory and defend it from demons’

sy didn’t realize that he was actually laying the foundation for cang qiong mountain sect before its creation. some terrifying demon demigod (one of the first heavenly demons, maybe?) pursues a band of cultivators to his mountain range, and he protects them. they settle his mountains and start cultivating, and because they’re protected by a literal god (who they call lord canglong, and they name the mountains after him) people want to study there.

so cqms is born, and sy takes a nap. when he wakes up, those cultivators he saved bring another group of cultivators, all named 'wen' to his mountain, and they ask his permission to lead the peaks next. another nap, and he wakes up to the wen generation asking his blessing for the ming generation, so on and so forth up until the qing generation. this time he recognizes names: qingge, qingfang, qingqi. this generation's leader, qingyuan. and the one whose bow is shallow and perfunctory, qingqiu. ofc sy isn't super pressed about standing on ceremony or whatever—he's only experienced like six years in this world, and most of them were spent either establishing the mountain as his territory or helping his little cultivators fight off some world-ending cataclysm or other. but he remembers the scum villain’s name, and he’s not a huge fan of the way sqq’s already proving himself to be an arrogant old shit

just like every other time, after he’s met and blessed this generation of peak lords, shen yuan falls asleep. shit!!! he meant to stay awake this time, but the system putting him to sleep is just too powerful! he’s probably missed luo binghe, damnit!!! what’s the point of transmigrating into this shitty novel if he doesn’t even get to meet the only character worth the pixels it took to type him into existence??

but as soon as he sees that fluffy-haired boy curled up in one of his caves, bruised and weeping and wondering what he’s done to be so universally hated, shen yuan knows. that’s his protagonist, and he’s really too pathetic like this. he’s really just a child. and shen yuan might have been easily annoyed by the concept of kids in his first life, but this isn’t just some whiny kid. this is the protagonist. so he does his best to calm tiny lord luo down.

and at first when lbh realizes it’s the fucking dragon god canglong speaking to him, the poor kid falls on his face kowtowing and apologizing for the intrusion, but lord canglong just…asks him what’s wrong. and then listens. and then he allows binghe to…to touch his hand???? not only that, he pats binghe’s head?? and tells him it isn’t his fault??? that one little head-pat is filled with so much spiritual power that binghe almost passes out, and soon after he recovers, lord canglong sends him back down the mountain with a renewed sense of purpose. lord canglong said binghe wasn’t stupid, wasn’t incompetent, wasn’t a failure, and binghe was determined to prove himself worthy of the sect’s guardian deity’s kindness.

and when luo binghe turns to walk down the mountain back to qing jing peak, that google translate voice pipes up in shen yuan’s ear with an update he hadn’t realized he was waiting for.

[Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said three times! USER_002 has completed the quest {From the Ground Up}! B-points +500 USER_002 has initiated the quest {Master of Masters}! New skill [Shapeshifter] has been unlocked! Would USER_002 like to activate [Shapeshifter] now?]

shen yuan slammed the bright glowing [YES] faster than any quest the system had ever given him. that’s how he learned that he was, in fact, just naked in front of luo binghe, and the [Shapeshifter] skill didn’t come with an auto-clothed setting. thank fuck he’d already sent the protagonist away!

[thesassypadawan]

Dolcetto O Scherzetto (Leo x FemReader) *Blurb*

Summary: Your boyfriend gets a little 'inspired' while passing out treats.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut. Creampie, hint of a breeding kink, one horny and annoyed big chooch, bad puns, and… Leo’s big, fat dick.

Notes: Happy Kinktober all you, lovelies…Dolcetto O Scherzetto (Trick or Treat)! 🖤🧡

- Calloused fingers clench, sink into your plump thighs.  Supple flesh spilling out from between the cracks…covered with ghastly, splotchy bruises.

-“Dolcetto O Scherzetto!!!”  The small , excited voices come calling from the other side of your apartment door.  “Dolcetto O Scherzetto!!!”

- Hiking your leg higher, pulling it tighter around his thick waist.  Leo growls into your sweat covered skin.  “Read the fuckin’ sign…”  Tongue lapping, teeth nipping at your collarbone.  “Ain’t my fault one of ya little choochs took all the candy…”  Soft, fluffy hair tickling your hickey riddled neck.   “Stunads…”

- “Be…nice,” you mutter between pants.  Hands clinging weakly to his broad shoulders, nails scratching lightly at his toned back.  From the wet sensation of his hot, sticky cum seeping from your swollen folds.  Collecting, forming a ghost white ring at the base of his fat cock.  “That's going to be one…one of yours…some-someday.”

- “Yeah, but…”  Grunting, thrusting hard into you again.  Great pumpkin scrapes gently against the wooden counter top from the force; of him pressing, pinning you down with his weight.  As his length twitches, pumps your poor, packed cunny with yet another heavy load of his sweet cream.  “…mine won't be brats…”

- “Dolcetto O Scherzetto!!!”

- Peppering, showering you with sugary kisses.  Giving each handle a firm, affectionate squeeze; he reluctantly straightens himself once more, pulls out.  “…know their manners…”  Chest heaving, glistening in the pale purple glow from the strings of bat lights.  Blue eyes burning with a sinful spark, locked onto your drooling core.  “…be well behaved.” 

- Digits tentatively, reverently touch your abused lips.  “Isn't that right, amore.”  Small whimper escapes you while he drags them slowly, gathers up the stray drops of his milky seed.  “You'll give me lots of cute ghouls and goblins.”  Swirling them lazily, before shoving it all back in…only for it to spurt, trickle out.  “Many as I want.”

- Grabbing hold of your ankles, pushing those plush legs towards your bootiful breasts.  “What do ya say?  Take one more for me.”  Leaky, blood red tip prodding at your warmth.   “Then I'll refill the bucket and ya after…again…and again…”

Tag Lists: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @kenobiskywalkerkestis, @loverforoldermen, @lunarnightt, @adorbzliz, @ahano, @kenmaiica, @freezerbride95, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @xhunnybeeex

[weird-an]

Boop boop boop!

Billy cracks open an eye. "No."

"Boop," Steve repeats, pressing his finger against Billy's nose.

"Shut it, Harrington." Billy buries his face in the pillow. What an idiot. A hot one, but still. Billy tries to focus on his annoyance of being woken up instead of the way his heart flutters.

"Time for breakfast," Steve says. It does smell like pancakes. Billy can't remember the last time he had pancakes.

"Breakfast," he echoes because he might be the rude one night stand that sleeps in, but his plan was to sneak out as soon as possible. Isn't that etiquette after all? Banging, sleeping, sneaking and pretending to not know each other's dicks a day later.

"Yeah, so get your ass up." Steve slaps him on said ass.

Billy grumbles into the pillow, but gets up. If Harrington wants to play house, he might as well profit from it. Maybe that guy is lonely or something.

The house is light, big and empty. Billy wolfs down the pancakes after drowning them in maple syrup and chooses to ignore how happy Harrington looks about that.

"So, what are you doin' today?" Harrington asks after he finishes his own pancakes and gave Billy seconds.

Billy doesn't want to explain to Harrington that he'll avoid getting home until Neil's in bed on Sunday, because there's curfew and rules and belts Billy doesn't want to think about.

He shrugs and busies himself with another bite of wonderful fluffy pancakes.

"You wanna go for a swim?"

Billy raises a brow. It's November. Harrington's a weird guy.

"The pool is heated," Steve explains, rolling his eyes like Billy's stupid.

That doesn't sound too bad. Billy misses swimming.

"You just wanna stare at my ass," he says, because the alternative of Steve wanting to spend time with him sounds like a fantasy.

Steve grins. "I'd do more than stare."

Harrington's a horny fucker and Billy's easy.

Well, not the worst way to spend a weekend, he decides. Better than sleeping in his car.

"Promises, Harrington."

"It's Steve, Hargrove." Steve purses his bottom lip. Billy wonders if he tastes like syrup now.

"Steve," he repeats.

Steve's grin makes him think it might be a bad idea, but Billy kisses him anyway.

[wanderingblindly]

trick or treat!!! 🎃

- kitty 💕

LISTEN I KNOW HALLOWEEN WAS YESTERDAY BUT THIS COUNTS BECAUSE IT'S. FALL. I GUESS. WHATEVER!!! HAPPY TRICK OR TREAT!!!!!!!!! @utopiastri so u get the notif

Today I offer: some quick established relationship landoscar, ft. a fluffy bedtime routine.

Words for Sleep

"Don't reckon I'd be very good at it," Oscar sounds hesitant, looking at Lando like he's lost his mind.

"Don't need you to be good at it," Lando says, shuffling around in their bed until he's tucked under the covers, patting the pillow next to him. "I just think it'll be..."

Oscar chuckles, moving to sit on his side. "Y'wanna say 'good', don't you?"

"No," He huffs, pulling the blankets up to his shoulders. "I think it'll be helpful, how's that?"

"Helpful."

"Very helpful."

"You not been sleeping well?" Oscar's voice grows soft as he reaches out to brush his fingers against Lando's cheek – lightly grazing the purple hiding under his beautiful eyes. "Have you talk to Jo–"

"Can we just try? Please?" Lando cuts him off, trying to resist hiding his face under the duvet like a child.

Oscar sighs, looking at the nightstand – looking at the book Lando had placed on the nightstand while he'd stepped away to brush his teeth. He looks back at Lando, who's peering up at him – face lightly illuminated by the table lamp – with wide, pleading eyes.

"Alright," He finally caves, swallowing down his pride at knowing this isn't going to go well. "But don't expect me to like... yeah. I'm not good at voices, ok?"

Lando beams at him, the one that makes Oscar's heart feel like it's flipped in his chest. In an instant, warm hands dart out from under the blanket and grab his hips, urging him to sit against the headboard.

"Thanks," Lando says, voice already muffled as he tries to nuzzle his nose into Oscar's lap – settling down contentedly with his head on Oscar's thighs, legs curled up into a ball, body completely engulfed in blankets. "Love you," He mumbles, eyes probably closed.

Cracking open the book with one hand, the other already running soothing patterns through Lando's curls, Oscar's heart skips a beat. "Love you too, baby."

[ranticore]

your centaur fashion notes are so so so delightful!!! first thing I saw when I opened my dash, amazing!

some questions bc you REALLY got the gears spinning: are there particular fabrics that centaurs prefer over others? who shaves their manes — is that a service a human barber would provide? is it a "my mom did it" informal thing? do centaurs go to a farrier for shoes or is that considered demeaning? how do summer clothes work? — eg. is there a centaur equivalent of "you can show this more skin ONLY if the weather is hot enough/you're doing heavy labor" likewise, do centaurs have special socks for colder weather?

Ough I'll try to format this ok on mobile

Fabrics: lighter fabrics are sought after. Bigger bodies need less insulation from cold temperatures. It's also a better Look to wear a blanket that isn't obviously just made to keep horses dry in rain and fabric choice helps with that. Otherwise it's personal preference

Mane shaving: I said shaving but really it's plucking I think. It is usually done at home. someone can do it themselves (awkwardly, with a mirror, though it must be noted that centaurs are flexible enough to reach any point on their body if they need to) or they can call over a specialist. time period matters here as it does for everything else (ironwall was founded in the 1200s), but the traditional way is for a mane and tail barber to come round to their house and neaten up any fluffy bits (fetlocks especially are trimmed to keep them clean). And yeah ur mom will do it for you when you're little

Farriers (such as the ones at the start of the lil story I wrote that one time) are usually centaurs themselves. They do a lot of feet care, trimming, rasping, picking, etc. Traditionally a human farrier would train with centaurs to get direct feedback about the fit of their shoes, and improve their business.

Summer clothes - large drapey clothing isn't necessarily very warm. For a big dress you can take out the petticoats or replace them with fabric with a larger weave. In modern eras the upper body can dress skimpy with low cut tops at a stretch.

Socks - yep, boots and socks are commonly worn to keep the legs and feet clean. They are taken off when entering a house. In fancy houses there'll be a dedicated stationary brush (imagine those big rollers that cows scratch themselves on) to clean mud from the feet. Other people had to deal with using a long-handled pick or floor scrubber brush.

[ziminy]

Big bad wolf

Where the reader is red riding Hood and Geto is the bad wolf waiting behind the corner to bite.

Tags: smut, mdni, f!reader, wolf!geto, dark content, killing, manipulation, major character(s) death, stalking, marking, biting, oral (m receiving), chocking, creampie, fingering, mean Geto, deep throating, rough s(e)x, orgasm denial, overestimulation, aphrodisiac,

Author's note: I can't stop laughing at the thought of him in grandma clothes. He would look good in a dress tho.

Not proofread

Masterlist kinktober masterlist

You were sent to your grandma's house to check on how she's doing. Nothing new, you used to do that all the time when you were little. But the thing is that you moved out some time ago, and you haven't visited her in years. It was no wander that you forgot the way to her house.

Someone else was supposed to accompany you. However, you were stood up in the last moment, everybody being busy with something important so you had no other choice but to go there on your own, all alone.

Follow the main path they said, the fact that it splits no one said.

You have to pick which way you're going, left or right. There's no sign that says where the paths takes, so you can only guess.

The right path looks more lively, but the left path might be the actual one. Ugh, this was so hard.

"Never seen you around these parts." a masculine voice could be heard from behind a tree.

"I'm just passing by." you said, not wanting to get in any troubles.

"You look like you need help. Where are you going?" he slowly walked out from where he was hiding, revealing himself. Eye dark just like his hair, fluffy pointy ears on top of his hair and something that seemed like a tail could be seen from behind

"Are you a local?" you asked, somehow skeptical of his motives.

"You can say so."

"Then, do you know the path to this village?" you asked, giving him the name of the place you're going to.

"What are you doing there?" isn't he asking too many questions?

"Visiting my grandma, she's sick." you don't know why you're even telling him.

"Does she lives outside the village?" how did he know? "I know her. It will be faster if you take the right path." oh, you didn't thought he'll be this useful.

"Thank you." you said, happily walking to your destination and admiring the surroundings. Pretty flowers left and right, you couldn't help but stop in place to pick a few, your grandma might like it.

You really weren't thinking nothing of it, being in your own world as you explored this forgotten part of the village, slowly remembering stuff from when you were little.

You remember the lady with the green house, now looking old, her home bearly standing up. Or that one house that was covered in flowers, now looking abandoned.

You couldn't help but sigh, everything changed to the worst. Just like you, the youngsters were leaving this place, trying to look for a better place. But now this place looked abandoned.

You tried to brush it off, it wasn't your problem, you couldn't help these people. Plus, the village your family is in is doing a lot better, so there must have been a reason for this ghosting.

"My my, I haven't seen you before." an old lady said, trying to start a conversation with you. "Are people finally moving back?" she laughed.

"I'm just visiting my grandma." you said, stopping in place to conversate with her.

"It's nice seeing youngsters still caring about the elderly." all you did was to smile and nod your head. "Where does you grandma lives?"

"Right outside the village, that way." you said, pointing at the direction you were going to.

"Be careful, there's a big wolf walking around this area. He been attacking people left and right." you couldn't help but think about the man from earlier. It couldn't be him, wouldn't he attack you if he was?

"I see. I'll be careful." you smiled, now feeling a pair of eyes on you.

"Mm. Be careful." the old lady said before you continued your trip.

You couldn't help but feel paranoid now. Perhaps you were feeling followed from the start, but only now after that lady said it you realized it. It was just your imagination, it had to be. I mean, a wolf, in the middle of the day? Come on.

Was that why everybody was leaving? Was that why your family kept talking about moving your grandma to their village? What if the wolf decides to attack your village too?

Your heart was beating so fast now, it was about to jump out your chest. You kept looking left and right, the familiar things slowly disappearing the more you get to the border of the village. The colorful houses and it's people started to fade away, now looking like a memory you had long time ago. The more you look back, the more they disappeared from your sight.

What if this was a dream? Or was your imagination playing with you? Fuck, please let me get home safely, you prayed in your head.

A few meters away from the village, there was a single lonely house standing proud, looking welcoming, like it was waiting for your arrival.

Your worries slowly evaporated as you quickened your pace towards the house, feeling euphoric and safe after that jump scare from earlier.

You stopped in front of the house, the front gate already being opened, like it was especially left open knowing that you'll be there. You walk towards the small building, knocking on the wooden door, letting the person inside it that you finally you finally got to your destination.

"Grandma, is me, Y/N." you said, a hand on the door handle and softly pushing it open. "Grandma?" you said when you noticed it was way too quiet.

The first thing you saw was how everything looked old and yet it was clean. Very few things here and there, everything looked minimalist.

There was a table right next to the entrance, and then a coat hanger right on the back of the door. A big rug in the middle of the room and then a bed right in the corner. Looks like your grandma is still in bed, that made you sigh reassured.

"How are you feeling?" you said when you walked to the bed, trying to see if the old woman is awake.

Her back looked a lot different than you remember, but that wasn't really important, was it? She slowly sat up, her hair covering her face.

She raised a hand, and you grabbed it, helping her get out of the bed. And damn, grandma was a lot taller than you remember, like, tall. She was a few heads taller than you, she had long black hair and broad shoulders. Was she working out?

"You look a lot bigger than I remember." you said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

"That's because you'll always be my baby." you blinked a few times, trying to process what she just said.

"Your voice sounds different." she sounded like a man.

"I always had this voice."

"Your clothes doesn't fit you." you pointed out.

"I grew."

"Your hair too."

"I like it longer." your eyes went up, to what's on top of her head.

"And your ears.." she looked down at you, finally being able to see her face. Oh god, how could you have been so stupid. It wasn't grandma, it was the guy from earlier.

You let go of his hand, taking a step backwards but he grabbed you, dragging you towards him before you were pinned against the closest wall.

"Why would you- Why are you- What happened-" you couldn't even think of what words to say.

"Come on now, take it easy." he had a smirk on his face, and you couldn't help but look around for any kind of clue on what happened.

"What happened to grandma?" you looked at him, finally thinking of what you wanted to say. All he did was to shrug, a smug expression on his face like he was mocking you. "What do you want from me?" he did nothing but to smile. His face getting closer to you, to your neck, sniffing you for a moment before he looked up at you.

Ah, so you were nothing but food to him. No wander everybody was leaving this place when he can easily pull a stunt like that.

Somehow, you were at peace with yourself, closing your eyes, expecting nothing more than a quick death before he devours you. Instead, you were welcomed with his laugh, amused with the fact that you were so calm.

"What?" you said annoyed.

"I like to play with my food before eating it." huh? You stared at him in disbelief. He got his face to your shoulder, opening his mouth widely before biting you, his fangs sinking into your skin, making your mind go dizzy for a moment. "On your knees." he ordered, his expression changing instantly, now serious.

With big eyes, you looked at him, begging him without words to change his mind. Spare you, give you five seconds to get the fuck out of there and run for your life. But no, he had the same stoic expression on his face, looking at you without a single hint of light in his eyes. He was so crule, how could he do this do you?

"Don't make me repeat it." you gulped, biting your lip in frustration.

"Here?" you said hesitantly, almost eating your own words.

He walked away from you, getting off the nightgown and sitting at the edge of the bed, moving one of his finger back and forth, noticing you to get closer.

He made you sit in front of him, on your knees. "Don't be shy now. Do what you're supposed to." his voice was as cold as his expression.

You had many bad words to say at his address, but at the same time, you can't help but feel something hot forming between your legs.

He kept looking down at you, and it only made you think about what you did wrong. You shouldn't have listened to him, you shouldn't have came here alone, or even better, your shouldn't have come here from the start.

"Hah." he puffed, amused at the fire you had in your eyes, full of hate and determination. Don't you think you have a bit too much courage in this situation? "Get started or I will." he spit out some words, making your eyebrows arch in frustration.

You grabbed his cock, too big for your liking, but you weren't in a position to complain.

You moved your hand up and down, not even sure of what to do. A part of you, telling you to taste him, but the more sane part was yelling at you, telling you how much of an hypocrite you were. Dumb, stupid, idiot, so many words echoed in your head, finding synonyms after synonyms to insult you.

Yes, you were indeed dumb for feeling hot in this situation, your body tensing up when your skins touched. A jolt went down your spine, feeling tingly and wandering what reward will you get from this.

You looked up at him between your eyelashes, opening your mouth and getting your face closer to him. All he did was to laugh, staring at you wrapping your mouth around his cock, moving your head little by little to get him inside.

Up and down, up and down, you keep bopping you head, trying to figure out where was your limit. But he didn't cared about that, he took a fistful of your hair and pushes you down, getting more of his dick inside your mouth and make you gag audibly.

"You can take more of it, but you're not even trying it." fuck him. What does he even know? You glare at him, and in response he laughed. He laughed because of how stupid you look, and it made him want to bully you more. "Touch yourself. Get your pussy ready for me." your expression didn't softened, you had the same ugly look in your eyes as you got a hand between your thighs, in your pants. You were so wet, and you had no idea what made you feel like that, because it was too much. You practically had a pool in your panties, swimming in your own juices since you pussy was drooling over some dick.

This was so unlike you, and you couldn't figure out why. With his dick shoving down your throat and the way your body was heating up, you couldn't think straight.

"Keep going." his words of encouragement didn't helped in any way, it only made you feel desperate for his touch.

With your mouth full of him, you started to think that you really could do more than that. To push him deeper than anything have been before, to take more of his dick and try to reach new limits, because fuck it, why not. A life and a hole you have.

So, being blinded by false hope, and this feeling of determination that appeared out of nowhere, you moved your head, confidence in yourself that you'll be able to do it. You'll be able to suck him off better than anyone ever did.

How idiotic of you, thinking that you would actually be able to pull such a trick by yourself. But he appreciated your effort, now he was helping you get him inside further and further than before, his cock going down your throat, you could feel it so deep that you couldn't help but tense a little, a few tears appearing in your eyes. "Keep touching yourself. You'll regret it later if you don't." he kept reminding you, his voice sounding out of breath and just as cold as ever.

He's so heartless, he's expecting you to do all the work. Suck him dry and touch yourself, to get yourself ready for him when he's not paying you any attention. You need more words of encouragement, touches, kisses even. What a dickhead he was, having such a pretty thing as yourself all to himself and not even trying to do you right.

He was very vocal though, he wasn't hiding his voice even for a moment. He kept moaning and moaning, his hand on your hair, pushing you down. His head fell back, the loudest moan he left out so far erupting from his mouth. He was such a bitch and it was making a mess out of you, something inside of you slowly waking up, wanting to bite him just to see how he'll react.

"Fuck." he was out of breath, grabbing your hair better as he moved his hips forward. His action caught you by surprise, making you grab his thigh to hold yourself in place as he kept fucking himself into you.

The next thing you know, is him getting out your mouth, hands wrapped around your arms to help you get up, and then ripping your clothes off. He pushed you into the bed, face down and ass up before slapping it, leaving a big red mark on you skin.

No warnings were said before he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock right against your warm pussy. Well, this was it. The anticipation was eating you, not knowing what he'll do, or when. Biting your lip, you stayed quiet as you waited for his next move.

He pushed himself in, making you gasp at the way he was stretching you. You were so tight, he couldn't help but grab your ass so he could move better. It hurts, if you're being honest, and you can't help but grip the sheets.

He was mean, bullying himself inside, he kept pushing and pushing until he got all the way in. Taking a moment to himself to take a deep breath before starting moving his hips. Long deep strocks, his dick touching against spots that made you see stars.

He was no saint, fuck it, he wasn't a good man to begin with and the fact that he showed you absolutely no affection was pointing that out. "Told you to touch yourself, now you'll have to deal with it." how mean he was, he showed you no mercy.

His words was making it seems like you were the one wanting this, like you made him follow you all the way here and then begged him to do such despicable acts. But perhaps he just wanted to be delusional, lost in his own world as he kept fucking into you.

You kept your mouth shut, and the fact that you didn't let a single word out made him angry. Biting his lip, frustrated with your actions and looking visible mad. Pride was a sin after all, and he liked to live as a selfish man.

Refusing to back down, he slapped your ass, making you gasp audibly and turn your head to look at him.

He lower himself, getting closer to your body. His arms resting on each side of you, his chest pressed into your back before he bite your shoulder, sinking his teeth into your skin.

That overbearing sensation from earlier came back, it felt like your blood was moving backwards, boiling and moving at a much faster speed making you feel hotter than you already were.

If you weren't wet enough, now your juices were running down your thighs and onto the bed, leaving wet mark on you, him and the sheets. But he enjoyed this, looking at you trembling and making this adorable expression, finally looking desperate for him.

He didn't had enough yet, not when he could get you in a more degradable state. Moving his lips into your neck and sinking his teeth again.

It was like he was injecting something into you. An unknown substance that made you lose your mind, your mouth watering and feeling like you didn't know your own body.

Was this enough for him? Or how much longer was he going to be petty? Because you don't have enough time to play his games, the longer he's inside you without moving the more you want to flip him around and show him that you too can play this game.

He moved on the other side of your neck, biting it and making you feel more desperate with each second pass by. If his aphrodisiac wasn't going to kill you, then he will. He will sink his teeth and mark you as many times as it needed to prove his point, and that was that it was stupid to resist him. If you can't be honest or humor him, then he will.

And he bite you again, leaving his teeth mark on your skin as he suck and licked on it after that, moving on another spot and give you another doze of his toxin, because why not. He wanted to do it so he'll do it.

He realized what he's doing only after he felt your warm walls tightening around him, squeezing him again and again before he realized you just came. That made him stop and look at you.

The way you fell on the bed, you couldn't even hold your own weight up, and how you were breathing heavily. He can't say that he hates the way you looked in that moment, but he doesn't love it either. There was this feeling inside of him that told him it wasn't enough, he didn't do anything at all so how dare you be tired already?

So, he grabbed your hips and dragged your ass in the air, your face against the sheets as he started moving his cock in and out once again.

He showed you no mercy, he kept going at it hard from the start. Now, it wasn't anything too wild, it wasn't that hard but it was enough to make the bed move harshly.

He can show you something that is worth cumming for. A few mere bites wasn't enough to do anything, and yet you really dared to go ahead and forget about his hard dick, forget about him and how he was going to make you cum.

The audacity you had, he still can't believe it. You'll see what he's capable of.

Pushing your head down into the bed, face against the sheets as he kept running his cock in and out, the room filled with wet sounds and he's way too proud of that. He's so happy seeing you drunk on his dick that he can't help but slap your ass, leaving his hand print on it so you would remember.

Your insides were squeezing him again, making him to pull out and flip you around.

This was the second time this happens, what's wrong with him. "You want to cum, huh?" he said in a mocking voice, sitting down on the bed. "Gotta earn it." he really wanted you to ride him. And, well, it didn't took you long to jump in his lap and move yourself like there's no tomorrow.

You easily took him in, moving yourself right away to feel some friction. With a hand between your legs you rubbed your clit, not needing much time to cum when you felt like your whole body was going to melt. That didn't stopped you from moving your hips, too desperate to make this agonizing feeling go away.

He placed his hands on your hips, moving you up and down even better, faster than before. He didn't wanted to admit it but you felt good, so good that he couldn't help himself but cum, pumping his load deep inside you before he came back to his senses and started to move you again.

It was just after you came for a second time when he pulled out, right after he came inside you one more time. He flipped you on your back, getting back between your legs and started moving his dick like he didn't do it before.

He kept moving at a certain angle, trying a new way every now and then to see which one made you feel better, because this wasn't just about him, it was also about his pride, you looked just so delicious being fucked up and desperate to feel him.

Your sounds weren't loud enough, your touch was almost non-existent and it made him look visibly mad. Was there a moment that he looked happy ever since he appeared before you?

He wrapped his hands around your neck, squeezing it slightly to hold you in place as he kept ravaging your insides. He kept moving and moving, going harder and harder just to see you squirming. You were reacting so much better now, he couldn't help but have this strange grin on his face, looking at the way you were struggling to take him.

You can come with him, can't you? You can come at the same time, he knows you can. He just haves to give you a little push. So, he chocke you even harder, making your head spin as he looked satisfied with where this was going. You grabbed onto him, feeling dizzy. Your orgasm felt so much violent this time, and the fact that he had no mercy on you didn't make you feel any better.

With a few more thrusts, he came, filling you up even more, and somehow, telepathically, you came at the same time as him.

He got out of you, his cock resting right on top of you as he kept his hands wrapped around your neck, still chocking you, harder and harder, making the air from your lungs stop flowing.

He looked down at you, with the same old psychotic smile as your mind slowly becomes blank, your vision blurry as he disappears from your view.

"Ah, shit." he cursed, realizing too late what he had done. "I did it again, didn't I." he sighed, getting up the bed and looking at you one more time before he put his clothes on, leaving your lifeless body right there where he left you. It wasn't his problem anymore.

Author's note: Tumblr decided to die on me halfway through writing this and I had to re write a little (more). Glad I finished it.

[splendsay]

TLOU Oneshot // Joel x F!Reader

The Long Way Home

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader (You) WC: 5,740 Rating: Mature Content Warnings: Explicit language, some suggestive language Themes/Tropes: Second Chances, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Fluff & Angst, "It was always you" Excerpt:

Time is funny.

That which will pass, no matter what happens. What choices you make. 

It has a way of making you feel as young as you always were and older than you've ever been -- all at once. 

In a world where a functioning bathroom isn't a guarantee, neither is a mirror. You don't entirely mind. You don't often feel ready to face what others see. And the woman who looks back at you each time you do manage to find one is a little different than the last. 

Time and change are old friends, or so the saying goes. Swinging, hand-in-hand, on a tire strung up on an ancient tree, some branches dry and barren, others bestrewn in fluffy pink blooms, others still covered in a mix of leaves -- verdant hues fading into deep, rich ruby. 

It's a gift, to get older. At least, that's what you were always told. 

Some days you see it. Some days you don't.

Some days you stand with one foot in either puddle.

Like today.

It's been an age since you saw him last. Nearly three decades. You'd known him another two before that. In another life. A different century. Millennium.

Texas is a big place, but it always felt small to you. Claustrophobic. Felt like you'd grown up knowing every single person in Austin. 

None better than the Miller brothers. 

You grew up next door. And though both boys had been several years ahead of you in school, they were always good to you. Walked with you to the bus stop every morning. Helped you learn how to ride your bike without training wheels. Caught fireflies with you in the summertime. 

Joel had been your de facto babysitter any time your mom worked late. Or just...never came home. She never asked him to. Certainly never paid him. He just sort of -- showed up. Him and Tommy together, usually. Made you instant mac and cheese for dinner. Let you watch cartoons after you finished your homework. Braided your hair before bed. Read you stories. 

He'd been a kid too. But he'd always made you feel safe. Cared for. And you adored him for it. For as long as you can remember, you'd thought the world of him. Your personal sanctuary, in human form.

As years passed, those feelings evolved. Grew from childlike admiration to genuine friendship to -- a love that little else could touch. An attraction that no matter what you did or whose arms you threw yourself into, you couldn't shake. Couldn't bury. Couldn't forget.

Last you can recall seeing him was the day you left for art school, bags slung over your shoulders, teeth bared in a crooked, anticipative grin. He was the only one to see you off. By then, your mom was somewhere knee deep in a well of gin.  

He had given you a long, steadying hug. Offered to drive you to the bus station while Sarah clung to your leg and begged you not to go. She'd still been a little thing. Just starting school. No older than six. 

It had broken your heart to leave her. To leave them both. 

Crushed it into tiny, unsalvageable pieces. 

You think about it all the time. What things might've been like if you had stayed. 

Joel asked you to. The night before. In between messy, feverish kisses and crisp, silken sheets -- a fleeting moment. Desperate. Ardent. Finally breathing your feelings for him to life. Like taking pen to paper. 

He'd sunk to his knees, his voice wavering on a plea -- one you'd spent countless nights longing for. 

And you still walked away. You told him no.

The word had tasted bitter in your mouth. It wasn't one you wielded often, at least not then. Felt like it was killing you as it ripped from your mouth. Like a saw blade, tearing your throat in two.

No.

But the only thing bigger than your love for Joel Miller had been your need to get the fuck out of Austin. To figure out who you were and what you wanted and how the world worked. Twenty-two and too spirited for your own good. Too driven and too proud. Hardheaded. You'd needed to go. 

And so you had. 

You had been proud of yourself for half a second -- for choosing your dream. But you spent a lot longer regretting it. Every day, really. Those first ten months in Savannah were spent crying yourself to sleep, crying in the arms of your chagrined roommate, crying into cups of blue-gray paint water. 

You had told him, in that quiet, solemn car ride, that you'd come back. Swore up and down you'd come home.

But he never called. Never wrote to you. 

Of course, you'd asked him not to. Afraid you wouldn't be able to resist him if he did. But it broke your little dreamer's heart that he didn't try harder. Didn't fight harder.

You'd taken it as a sign. You were all about signs back then.

So you stayed away. If he could move on, so could you. Or, at least, that's what you told yourself. 

But, when the outbreak happened, Joel and Sarah had been your first thought. You were still in Savannah, a few years out of school, teaching art to first graders, trying in your off time to hack it as a painter. Another teacher had a meltdown in the middle of the hall during lunch. Attacked a kid. When you'd called the school's resource officer, she'd ripped the guy's throat out. 

That had been the beginning of the end. 

And what a very long end it turned out to be. 

You'd immediately fled back to Texas. So stupidly sure you'd find him. You'd find him and cling to him -- survive whatever the fuck this was together. 

But you never could. 

Dust on the wind. 

A second ago, you walked through Jackson's saloon door, not entirely sure what to expect. You know Tommy will be here, his wife told you as much. But she'd also said Joel had returned the other day with his little kid in tow. Your skin had gone cold at that. Joel. His little kid.

Sarah wasn't little. Not anymore. 

The mix of emotions has you feeling bereft. Agony and hope and remorse. You shake them off -- shut your mind to them. As best you can. You think of simple things. Tranquil things. Clean bed linens. A starless night sky. Water running along a smooth riverbed.

Quiet. Blank. Clean. 

But, it's interesting how, even with that quiet mind -- no expectations in place -- you can still be blindsided. 

Somehow -- you don't know how -- you remember him well enough that you recognize him from behind. Instantly.

The way he stands. The breadth of his shoulders. The curl of his hair, now threaded with gray, much like your own. 

Time is funny. 

That which will pass. An old friend of change. And maybe -- preservation.

Every feeling you ever buried roars to the surface. A veritable wave -- a tunnel that blocks out the light of the sun, stirring up sand and detritus and bulbous creatures just minding their own seafaring business, crashing against a smooth, placid surface in an aquamarine spray, pushing and pulling and swelling up to do it all over again. 

You almost don't even see Tommy next to him, grinning and waving at you. The room seems to pull the air from your lungs. And when he turns and visibly recognizes you, your knees threaten to buckle. 

He looks -- the same. Good. Weathered, to be sure, but just as ruggedly handsome as he'd been in his mid-twenties. He's...he's Joel. As you've always known him, even as he's lived in your dreams. He stares at you, wide-eyed and unmoving.

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes," Tommy croons, pushing off the bar. 

You can't help the smile that spreads across your face. Tommy was your friend too.

You stride to them, suddenly very aware of the fit of your jeans. The way your shirt hangs off your too-thin body. The plainness of your bare face and the long, silver plait down your back. The clunk your boots make on the wooden floorboards as you walk across them. 

But you shrug your shoulders back and push all those things as far down as you can manage.

"If it ain't the Millers," you hum. 

"Hey, darlin'," Tommy murmurs, opening his arms for a hug. You take him up on it without question, pressing your body to his. His embrace swallows you.

"You've grown at least a foot since I last saw ya," he comments.

A hoarse laugh works its way out your throat. It's true -- he'd left for the army a few years prior to your own departure. You'd still been a girl. "I was a late bloomer."

He chuckles and releases you, leaning his back against the edge of the bar. "Aside from the height, you look the same, gal."

You snort. "Lyin's a sin, Thomas Miller."

He chuckles and turns to gesture to the man behind the bar. 

"What uh...what are y'all doing out here?" you ask, looking from one brother to the other. Your eyes snag on Joel's, whose remain keyed onto you. His body incredibly still. Frozen. It isn't lost on you that he hasn't said a word. You try to ignore the heat rising along the back of your neck.

"Could ask you the same."

You feel your smile falter. "It's, uh...it's a long story."

Tommy accepts a beer from the bartender and slides it toward you. "They usually are."

You stare at it for a second, your delicate mind suddenly stuck in Georgia -- the hellscape you managed to flee.

"Don't like beer?"

You reach your hand up to grasp the glass, running your thumb along its cold surface. Joel clears his throat, drawing your gaze back to his.  "No, sorry, I'm just -- slow to take it all in, I guess."

Tommy looks between the two of you, brows furrowed slightly, but doesn't comment on his brother's silence. "I reckon that's fair enough." He takes a sip. "So, what, uh...what brings you to Jackson?"

You absently trace the rim of your drink. "Atlanta is...uninhabitable. Um...so I left." 

"Atlanta?" Joel interjects, his voice hoarse. Like he hasn't used it in awhile. 

You startle a little at hearing it. After all this time. 

But you nod, studying his face. You note a couple scars you don't recognize. The gray in his scruff. You're very aware of your heartbeat.

"Yeah...Atlanta."

"You...you've been there...all this time?"

You shake your head. "No, no. Just the last few years."

"Where...where were you before?"

"Texas," you answer softly. "Dallas."

You think maybe Joel's stopped breathing. You've never seen him wear the expression he's wearing now. Like he's been shot in the stomach. 

"Are...you okay?"

The expression vanishes. "Yeah, just. Tired."

You glance at Tommy, but he's busy gulping down the rest of his beer. You take a long pull of your own. It's crisp on your tongue -- a refreshment you're no longer used to. It takes a concerted effort not to groan. 

"Well, I uh...," Tommy starts, fidgeting with his hands. "I'm gonna go check on Maria. You know, baby and all. I'll -- I'll leave you two to catch up." His discomfort is palpable, but still, he claps you on the shoulder. "Come see us at the house, okay?"

You nod. "Yeah, okay. I -- I will."

You watch him walk away, though you aren't really looking. Your attention is wholly focused elsewhere. You take another sip of your beer. 

[xonceinadream]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Glee Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe Characters: Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff Series: Part 3 of Nanny!Blaine Summary:

Little moments in Blaine and Sebastian's lives that remind them they made the right choice to be together.

A few connected chapters for @domaystic 2022 on tumblr.

Day 4: First Night [SFW]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lap Pillow

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[kittenmoth]

I had to draw it. I don't make the rules.

[racke7]

As I don't want to leave negativity on someone else's post, but saw something WILDLY out-of-character, when an actual in-character relationship is RIGHT FUCKING THERE.

Sakura and Shirou's kitchen-relationship:

Shirou: "I need to get there first and start breakfast, or-"

Sakura: *innocently smug* "Hello senpai, I got started without you"

Shirou internally: "Noooo, my kitchen-time is being stolen"

Shirou externally: "Ah. Well, if you've already started, how can I help?"

Sakura internally: "Yay! I won first-place, and I get to make senpai happy with my cooking now!"

Rin and Archer's kitchen-relationship:

Rin: "How dare you-!"

Archer: *smirking like a bastard* "Oh? Have I touched a nerve, Rin? Were you under the mistaken impression that your chocolate-chip cookies are in any way adequate beyond the bargain-bin at a kindergarten bake-sale?"

Rin: "... I will fucking END YOU"

Archer: *scoffs* "I should be so lucky"

[alwaysoc]

[leafy-m]

So I hit my 700th edit for the WHA wiki today, because I am a totally normal person

[ultravioart]

Hot take, but i see Zenyatta's and Ramattra's dynamic like Ahsoka's and Anakin's dynamic. Looking at their story, their interactions, the lore behind Null Sector and the lore with Zenyatta. Both are warrior monks, one takes the other under his wing, but the duo eventually finds the dogmatic approach of the temple restrictive and unhelpful for truly maintaining peace. One finds their own path to resolving conflict, individual and distinctly separate from the temple (Zenyatta, Ahsoka), the other proposes authoritarian control to maintain peace and order, rejecting the temple, and hurting those they wish to protect (Anakin, Ramattra). Ramattra is fighting due to fear and anger, scared of loosing those dear to him (Anakin vibes). Zenyatta is fighting due to a desire to help peoples find peace, and to find his purpose (Ahsoka vibes). With that said, I could be completely wrong, but Ram and Zen really do seem something like Ahsoka and Anakin's dynamic to me, like found family siblings, brother and sister, mentor and mentee, eventually breaking away from each other in a tragic loss, and that's why I cannot for the life of me ship Ram and Zen under that interpretation lol. They are brothers, both in the monastic and found family sense.

[satanfemme]

omg, out of this lamb chop's 5 squeakers, 2 of them don't work at all anymore (one in a hind hoof, and the one in her chest). oh you KNOW she got bit by a dog

[bear-cubs-art-things]

The silly guys being silly