#tips are super duper appreciated right now

[rosicheeks]

💖

[thotsforvillainrights]

Hi! I’ve been a big fan of all your work, and absolutely love everything you’ve posted. It seriously makes my day 🥰

I was wondering if you could do something along the lines of the first time 😏 with those in the MLA or overhaul? (Sorry if this posted 2x my app was glitchy)

(Thank you for reading my stuff! It’s a huge motivation to keep writing since I know peeps are looking out. I appreciate it so very much😭😭😭 Anyway, if we’re talking the *ahem* first time, then for Kai I’ve written it twice! It’s both here, and here! That would naturally only leave the MLA behind for me to conquer!)

(SIDENOTE: since there are so many members it’s in headcanon form. If you want a specific longer scenario for anyone then I’ll gladly do it!)

~First Time~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

~ReDestro~

-Not exactly super duper shy about it but certainly bashful to an extent. Flustered easily depending on how bold you want to be with him. If you take the lead then he won’t complain one bit. I imagine it happens after a romantic date. You get back to the house and he believes he’s going to be settling down for bed but you suggest otherwise. He probably chokes up a bit upon hearing you drop it on him but he’s able to rasp out a much to eager ‘yes’ from his mouth. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: once he get’s very turned on or very flustered then the tips of his ears will turn pinkish red with blush. He moans closed mouthed and huffs a lot here and there. His eyebrows knit and his hands have a white knuckle grip on the sheets below you. His thrusts are slow and steady as well. He clears his throat a lot before he says anything, and is very bad at talking dirty since it’s the first time after all. Expect for the next few weeks to hear him approach you with “Care for some intercourse, dearest?” He get’s better at talking dirty after having learned so much from you. 

~Curious~

-Believe it or not, she starts off a little shy herself before getting comfortable halfway through foreplay. It’s a little heartwarming to witness her being shy for once since you only ever seem to see her at her most upbeat and self assured person. She’s open to taking the lead but it all depends on whether or not you want full control of the situation. I’d say it’s an even match-up right now. The matter likely comes about when the two of you are lounging nightside by her pool together. It’s funny how quickly a heated kiss can escalate toward sexual intent when you let it. Lucky for her that the privacy stone wall is high enough that no one could see the two of you getting handsy with each other. She knew the moment your hand slipped under her bikini top that it was time to take it forward to the next level. The two of you barely give each other space as you make your way to the bedroom. Your hands don’t leave each other until the deed is done. During which she moans...loudly at that. No need to worry considering her large home is well on hiding what noise that can be made on the inside away from the outside world. A small part of her is embarrassed by how loud she was, so be sure to reassure her or else she’ll be oddly quiet the next time you go at it. She also bites a lot during sex so be prepared to leave with a few marks along your body in various places. She’s a gripper as well, grabbing hold of you and not willing to let go until she’s came and rode out her high with you.

~Trumpet~

-Oh he’s been waiting for you to ask him this for a very long time. He’s studied up and feels completely prepared to deliver his best upon the first time. He’s a big softie with you and a total gentleman so you had no idea he’s been lusting for you for such a long time. It probably goes down after a long day of work. His jaw drops when you finally break it to him that you’re ready for it. Hanabata takes his time with you. He saves the fucking for later. The first time is reserved for strictly love making. The amount of time this man spent on foreplay alone was enough to show you he was serious about making this something special and big between the two of you. Finally when the moment runs up, he asks you for your consent once more and waits patiently to hear you say ‘yes’ to him. He takes his time with you. He’s gentle yet firm at the same time, entering you and allowing you however much time you need to adjust to the size of  his cock before proceeding with caution. His moans were low, deep, and smooth as they’d only raised in pitch (followed by a curse or two) when he came close to cumming. I don’t think he lasts very long but what he lacks for in stamina for the first time, he makes up for by asking a second round in the same night. Hell, he’d ask for a 3rd time but he was sure you might need to rest after everything. For someone of his age it would appear he was doing good in that department! I’d say that the longer you explore each other’s bodies, the more creative he gets in bed. He can become bolder and get a little rougher, or maybe more naughty by introducing some food or toys into foreplay? Either way, he’s phenomenal during the first time, and nothing less of amazing every other time after that.

~Skeptic~

-I’d be scared to admit it with the way he acts sometimes. He’s a rough one to fall in love with but you can see past his jagged demeanor that the love is there and it’s nothing short of strong. It was probably rocky navigating whether or not he wanted you in that way. You’d sit and watch while playing the waiting game to see if he’d break character even just once. Finally it happened when you noticed him blushing but hiding behind his curtain of hair and furiously picking up the pace typing on his laptop. What caused it? You coming out of the shower wrapped in a towel in search of your favorite night clothes. I think it happened after you made sure to approach him on a night where he didn’t have anything important to tackle. Finally you’d dropped it on him and watched him sputter out a response. “Wh-what???” Oh he heard you loud and clear. He just wouldn’t make eye contact with you when he agreed to try it. He didn’t make any eye contact the entire time (which might be discouraging depending on the reader), but don’t mistake it for him not feeling pleasured. It was the contrary! His moans were endless it would seem. Don’t even get me started with the whimpering or the growling. He hated the fact you heard him sounding so pathetic. He finally ended up making eye contact with you when he came for the very first time with you. His pupils were blown, eyes watery, and shamelessly he drooled a bit. I do think the very next time you two do it, he is the one that brings it up. It’s no where near romantic by the way. It’s more like him just suddenly stopping whatever he’s doing before looking you dead in the eye and going “Let’s have sex immediately. I’ve got a 20 minute window and there’s no time to waste so let me know right now. Otherwise you’ll be wasting my time.”

~Geten~

-Really has no clue on anything having to do with it. Since I believe he’s around 20-21 years, he’s not even taken the time to navigate this type if thing. He dropped out of school a long time ago so I feel like he missed out on Sex Ed classes. On top of that, I doubt he’s ever even received the ‘talk’ from either his own parents or ReDestro at that. All he likely has is what he may have passed by while scrolling on the internet since I headcanon he spends a lot of time online. It’s just you and him learning together. When you drop it on him he suddenly stares at you with a very soft expression. It’s certainly different considering his usual demeanor around you. He just silently nods, tucking his face into his fur lined hood so as to hide the gentle blush creeping along his rounded cheeks. Your first time together is one of the rare moments when Geten has ever become so soft with you. His touches are focused but clumsy at the same time. There are a few apologies here and there as the two of you learn each others bodies. He’s fairly quiet but it’s because he’s tapped into whatever noise you’re making at the moment. He’s decided to use it as a way to figure whether or not he’s doing things right for you. When you finally finish he ended up taking a big bite into your shoulder and muffling the loudest moan you’ve heard from him all night. Tears do end up slipping from his eyes as well. He let’s go of you and apologizes before grabbing a wet towel and helping clean you up. Then like a light switch he’s back to being his same old self. However, you can tell through the sass and sarcasm that he’s desperate to know whether or not he did a good job. You simply smile and beckon for him to come cuddle with you to which he complains but quickly obliged. Don’t expect him to be a big softie the next time. He’s likely to be bolder with his actions to prepare yourself ahead of time for that.

[cornucopiawrites]

I just made my first non-trivial spiral! (And by that, I mean I took this one: https://www.shadertoy.com/view/MslyWB and re-wrote it in Godot, and added some vectors). (But I had to whip out the ol' secondary school trig knowledge to get the periods of the trig functions right so it would loop decently.) (Also I used ffmpeg for literally the first time. Sorry if the file size is irrationally large >.<)

It's not much, but now I get to spiral post, and I'm super-duper excited!

Now I just gotta figure out what the best image formats and compression settings to use are. *And* how to get tumblr to animate it without having to open it. Any tips would be *very* appreciated!

[eartheats]

[A thin, cylindrical package, some five feet long, arrives at Bryony's house, addressed to Ren, and accompanied by a letter. While there's no name on the envelope, the return address on the package is the mail center at Celadon University. Written in Galarian, in a neat, if plain hand, it reads:

"Ren,

I know that a cane is likely the more ergonomic option, at least for walking in urban areas, but, being that I used to spend a lot of time out in the wilderness, my preference has always been for a proper hiking staff. Like I said earlier, this isn't the finished product, so it's lightweight, and a bit on the fragile side. Still should support your weight, but don't rely on it to lever yourself up a steep slope, or hit anyone with it. Let me know if the grip is sized right; you should be able to hold on with both hands, and the segments should fit comfortably between your fingers.

The real thing will be a bit heftier, and have some merit as a weapon, if necessary. I'll also actually finish the surface to make it weather resistant, and neaten up the carving on top. I promise my work isn't usually this rough.

Alexander I. Cypress

P.S. While you certainly have earned glitter, Bryony's house has not, so you're safe from that. If she wasn't the one to bring this in, let her know that it's here, would you?"

As described in the letter, the package contains a birch walking stick, slightly taller than Ren themselves. The grip he was concerned about being large enough is nearly three of their handspans in size, allowing the staff to be held at various heights. Said grip is stylized as some kind of serpentine Pokémon wrapped around the core, with a smooth head separating at the top.

When Ren holds the grip tightly and puts weight on the end of the staff, something clicks softly, and an internal speaker erupts in an unholy cacophony of Pokémon sounds. There's a deep, full throated barking, a feline caterwaul, a squeaking trill, a series of beeps so high that they're almost inaudible, and finally, just a flat-out shriek. This continues for almost a minute, and then a human voice bellows over it all, distorted so heavily that it almost sounds like another Pokémon growling.

"NO MORE GLITTER!"

The audio then proceeds to loop, until the rubber tip on the bottom is removed, and the speaker falls out. Wrapped around it is a piece of paper that reads:

"I only promised safety from glitter. Don't worry, this won't be a feature on the next model."]

...

i think that is in fact the perfect revenge, i almost fell over when that shout came on. no more glitter!! i understand for sure now, no more, promise!!

but xander!! thank you so so much, i really and genuinely appreciate this??? i'm gonna be like, super duper careful with this, but i promise i'll take care of and cherish this lil walking stick ;v; i think this'll be fun to take out to route 213 to play with some of the pokemon sometime so i'll give it a test run once my leg has a chance to rest!

thank you, from the bottom of my heart, okay?

[thirstyandbeautiful]

Spring Drabbles: The List!

This is super duper late BUT thank you all so so so so so much for making our Spring Drabbles extravaganza so extravagant! F & I worked really hard to put all these prompts together so all the hoes could get the drabbles of their wet (and soft!) dreams. 

We really appreciated it, so we made this list for an easy menu. This is the structure of how this is laid out:

In alphabetical order-

Driver / AU - Title of Drabble, Number(s). “Quote(s)” 

Driver / AU - Title of Drabble, Number(s). “Quote(s)”

A

AustralianDaddies!Mafia AU- A Quick Fix, “I need your help.” - “Where’s the body?” & “I swear it was an accident.”

AustralianDaddies!Mafia AU- The Bank Robbery, “At least I didn’t break any laws.” & “Babe, I’m a demon. What do you expect me to do?” & “I think I’m dying and I wanted to tell you ‘I love you’ before I do.” - “Okay, let’s work on one problem at a time.”

AustralianDaddies!Mafia AU- Dead than Dead, “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?” & “If any other person did this to me, they would be dead-“ - “That sounds like an over exaggeration-“ - “IN A DITCH, WHERE NO ONE WOULD FIND THEIR BODY,” - “Really?” - “EVER!”

AustralianDaddies!Mafia AU- When Curiosity First Struck, “How have you survived this long by yourself?”

AustralianDaddies!Mafia AU- An Unfortunate Series of Events, 6. “I need your help.” - “Where’s the body?”12. “I swear it was an accident.”

AussieDaddies!AU- When It Hits, 37. “I think I’m dying and I wanted to tell you ‘I love you’ before I do.” - “Okay, let’s work on one problem at a time.”82. “Why is your stupid face just so kissable.”

AussieDaddies!AU- The Not So Restful Rest Time, “Wanna bet?” & “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

D

Daniel- Bunny Man, “I’ve never seen someone look so cute and so ridiculous at the same time.”

Daniel- Promise Me Forever, “It’s hard to get used to…” - “what?” - “Being someone that someone cares for…'

Daniel- Expectations, “I fucking hate you” & “don't call me that"

Daniel- Do As I Say, “do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

F-G

Fernando- All Pink & Pretty, “I’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.” & “Stop looking at me like that!”

George- Caught, “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

George- Panic! Leading to More! Panic!, “Why the fuck would you propose to me in front of my family?” - “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

M

Mick- You can't outsmart me, “One of us is clearly smarter than the other.”

Mick- Against The Door, “Don’t call me that.”

Michael- Post Workout Nightmare, “If I hear one laugh, I’m killing you in your sleep.”

L

Lando- Trying Too Hard, “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” - “Falling insinuates I landed with no padding, so yes, it did hurt.”

Lando- The Challenge, “I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone as badly as I want to fuck you right now.”

Lewis- Dress you up, Just to Dick you Down, “ i can’t get enough of you.” & “do you want help with that?”

Lewis- Growing Pains, “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” & “If any other person did this to me, they would be dead-“ - “That sounds like an over exaggeration-“ - “IN A DITCH, WHERE NO ONE WOULD FIND THEIR BODY,” - “Really?” - “EVER!”

Lewis- Tipping Point, “I’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand.” & “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

Lewis- Where do we go from here..., "Are you jealous?” & “Don’t go on that date.” - “Why?” - “You know why.” - “Say it.”

Lewis- Never Easy, “Ugh, fuck.” - “Did it happen?” - “Fuck!” - “Say it!” - “I can’t believe it… I fell in love with you!” & “Just marry me already.”

T

Toto- On My Demon Time, “Babe, I’m a demon. What do you expect me to do?”

[ruewrites]

Kinktober 2022 Day 13: Public

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 1036

Warnings: smut

A/N: I know I'm behiiiiiind. Sorry, I have things I needed to get done, but I'm here now! And I'll be playing catch up (^_^;). Have some more Solodeus. I adore them and I want to be soft.

Comments are appreciated!

Asmo was giggling. The two of them were all hands and making out. It was in between classes. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks, and that was too much for Asmo. Yes, Solomon had things to do in the human world before classes started, but they could have been together! They could have been spending time cuddled up, going on cute dates, and fooling around. But instead Solomon just had to do work. Putting being humanity’s savior on hold couldn’t be that hard when you had a super duper cute partner waiting for you right? 

Certain classes would be ending soon though, and soon the halls would be flooded with students. Solomon started to pull away.

“No,” Asmo whined, pulling him back.

“Asmo-”

“I want you.”

Asmo was surprised by how needy his own voice sounded, but what surprised him more was Solomon's reaction. Normally Solomon would peck him on the cheek and whisper promises to come, but now- Oh now-

Solomon looked absolutely starved.

 It did something to Asmo knowing Solomon was just as desperate for him. They were on each other again. Solomon pressing into him until the two of them stumbled into one of the school’s utility closets. Their hands were wandering each others' bodies as they made out. Asmo wasn't holding back a single noise  he couldn't help it! It had been so long since he'd seen his boyfriend in ages. 

He needed him now.

He had to have him now.

And by the feel of things, Solomon was more than into the idea of taking him here and now. 

Asmo was struggling out of his uniform bottoms, panting and whining the longer it took. Meanwhile, Solomon lowered his garments just enough to release himself. Asmo wished they could fully disrobe, he wanted nothing more than to see his boyfriend completely nude, to admire his body with gentle finger tips and even gentler lips, but it would be something to save for when they were alone and he could properly ravish him.

He wrapped his legs around Solomon and buried his hands in his hair. He could feel Solomon poking at him. It took them a while to get situated but when they did Solomon was more than happy to slowly push his way inside. Asmo let his head tip back and hit the wall as he did so. A soft moan leaving his lips. 

The sounds of laughter and idle chatter pouring into the hall reached his ears. People were leaving class now, and here he was, getting fucked by his partner whom he hadn’t seen in a long while. It was certainly more exciting than any boring class he’d be made to sit through.  Much, much better.

“You need to be quiet,” Solomon muttered, “People will hear-”

“Then you need to stop fucking me now,” Asmo challenged.

Solomon who was so awkward with PDA, Solomon who just got over blushing when he kissed his lips his pubic. His Solomon who was so cute (in Asmo’s humble opinion) with his affections.  Asmo didn’t even feel him stop, he shuddered.  Did he dare say-? Was his absolutely adorable partner excited by the idea of being caught? Excited by the idea of taking him in a public place? 

He barely had time to think about it, Solomon snapped his hips up, ripping a cry from his lips. He had always been noisy, they both were. Just because Asmo was a little more vocal didn’t mean that Solomon didn’t make noise. He had the cutest little grunts and whimpers when things felt really good, and sometimes Asmo would even have him begging. 

Asmo clawed at his back, scruffing up his uniform, and bit at his neck leaving a barrage of hickeys in his wake. He swore he felt Solomon shudder again when he let out a low growl  next to his ear.  They were both far too into each other to notice anything else, and it wasn’t until they were both at their climax, not until they had reached ecstasy did they notice it. Asmo’s voice had reached its crescendo, and was only now finally coming down from his high as Solomon finished inside of him with a gasp and one final little shudder. Only then, did they notice that the door handle was turning, and that they hadn’t locked the door.

“Is everything alright in here? I heard-” Raphael stopped mid sentence when he saw the duo, disheveled and completely tangled up in each other. 

They all stared at each other, Raphael blinking once, twice. Time was frozen and Solomon had never looked like he wanted to die more than right then. Finally Raphael took a breath in.

"Okay."

And then the door was shut.

“Baby?” Asmo asked. 

The tips of Solomon’s ears turned red first, then his cheeks, and then he laid his head on  Asmo’s shoulder and groaned, “I can’t go back to Purgatory Hall. Not ever.”

“You could stay with me, I never mind having you as my bed warmer, especially not when I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Solomon just buried his head deeper in his shoulder and muttered something that didn’t quite reach Asmo’s  ears. Despite everything though, he was still inside him, and it made Asmo feel warm. He kissed what he could reach of Solomon’s head.

“I’d let you have me in public again if you wanted,” Asmo whispered, “Maybe at the club, I could wear a really short skirt.”

“Alright, you’re done.”

Solomon helped him down as he pulled out, and tucked himself back into his pants before assisting Asmo in getting dressed once more. Once dressed, Asmo helped straighten up both of their attires before admiring his handiwork on Solomon’s neck. The entire time they readied themselves to be presentable for their next classes Asmo could see the idea tossing back and forth in Solomon’s head.

They would certainly be having fun at the fall later in the week.

Before they split off, Asmo pulled him in by the tie and kissed him  one more time.

“I love you.”

That goofy grin he loved so much spread across Solomon’s face and Asmo felt his heart flutter in his chest.

“Love you too.”

[worstdisastermaster]

do you have any writing tips? i really love your fanfics and want to get better at writing

Oooooooh uhhh. Ajjshxkchksjwjd??

First, I am *extremely* flattered by this ask literally thank you so much????? Aaaaaaaahhhhhgh

I know this sounds basic but like. The best advice I have is to literally just *do it*. Grab ur Google docs, ur notebook, whatever, and don't even bother with staring it into submission. Plot?? Who needs that? Setting? Don't know her. Characters? Maybe have an idea of one???

And then just start *writing it*. It will come, and it comes easier and easier every time, I promise. Look at what you wrote- what do you like about it? (Literally ignore what you dislike for now. It doesn't exist. Shhh) what words give you satisfaction, or set your heart racing, or inspire you to expound upon it? What little tidbits of headcannons and facts and phrases have been occupying your brain?

Pack whatever you're writing *full* of it. What did you recently learn? Cram it in. What's a pet peeve of yours, or someone you know, or literally whatever comes to mind? Use it to fuel some dialogue. Imagine the scene like it's a movie screenshot that you want to like, sketch or something- whatever makes you look at it critically AND appreciatively, that notices emotions and facts. What's the vibes going on for the character? Are they nervous? Do you, perchance, bounce on your toes slightly when ur nervous? Well, now so do they. Do they have a fascination with fuzzy socks? Are they ashamed of this,, or unapologetically delighted by it?

Does that tie into the story at all? Do you want it to? Or do you just want to have it tucked securely in your brain to make it feel more *real*?

There are literally no wrong answers.

Ever.

But also- take into consideration *your* current mental/emotional state. Are you super duper excited about something? Get your characters excited! Release some steam into them, and give them the reaction you wish people had to your excitement!!

Or *dont*, and see where that leads!

Are you incredibly nervous/upset? Sleep deprived? Emotions high in general? That's a GREAT time to write. Your angst feels more raw, tender to the touch, and emotion positively *bleeds through*. The comfort has such a pure, desperate note in it, making it all the cozier. The crack is even more hilarious, bc ur using it to make yourself feel better and so it gets wilder and wilder and that's *perfect*.

And most of all?

Do.

Not.

Read.

It.

After.

You.

Write.

It.

Write until you feel done- either you need a break, of you've decided to conclude it, whatever. Post it if you want, or not- (comments and kudos are great fuel tho, and help literally everything but ur crippling imposter syndrom- I mean, *ahem*) it doesn't matter. Just do not TOUCH it until AT LEAST a week after, longer if you can.

Just after you write it, ur gonna hate literally everything ab it- even if b4 rereading t u were super excited and proud ab it.

Bc u know what? You SHOULD BE! you DESERVE to be!!! Writing is incredibly hard and it's amazing that you managed to even put the word "the" out there- everything else is just. Amazing!!!!!!!!!!

But right after you read it? Mmmm. Not good times, I promise.

If you wait, and reread it, no matter how much you're dreading it cuz u decided it Sucked, Actually, but you *have* to reread it for one reason or another.... chances are, ur gonna like it a **lot** better.

Seriously.

It sounds whacky but it *works*.

And hey, if things aren't coming? That's okay! Go do some 'research' and spend countless hours looking for inspiration! Do what feels natural.

It's gonna feel terrible at first, but the more you do it, the more confident you will feel, bc you *can* do this. You can, and you *did*, and you can do so any time you want- even I'd you decide you didn't actually enjoy it very much. It's still amazing.

Are your ideas original?

*who cares*???? Your voice is unique and wonderful and we are ALL cheering you on.

Seriously.

It sounds cheesy but it's so true

And hey, if you need more encouragement, or someone to spitball ideas at/with, or to read over your work? Hit me up any time! If ur not comfortable with that, I'm hardly gonna judge!!!

Which is the most important part.

People aren't going to judge you.

No, seriously, they *wont*. If they do, it's literally bc their jealous and have some personal issues *they* need to work on, not any reflection of the amazingness of your story.

Your not gonna be perfect first try- your not ever going to be perfect. That's impossible.

But by goodness, you will improve, and if you keep writing? It's going to feel amazing like nothing else. Wherever your at is unique and beautiful, and wherever your future takes it will be even more so- but it can't be unless you let it.

And hey, your worth isn't attached to some words on a page. Mess up? Who cares??!!! No one knows you. No one is gonna judge you. That's the beauty of this all.

Spit out trash if you feel incapable of anything else. Just do it. And before too long, you'll find out it was another man's treasure- and maybe you'll find your own treasure within it too.

Does this help at all???? XD I feel like I am not qualified, AT ALL, for this question but I hope I didn't overwhelm you skwgsjchjckc

Oh and. Last tip. Grab something like toapril, and commit to it. If you can, set a goal, and fulfill it *every day* for that challenge- like at least 1000 words a day. Something that you really really wanna do but aren't sure if you can.

It keeps things going, keeps you from looking too closely at your own work, and is pretty freaking impressive, whatever you get done. Because that's *hard*. And you did amazing. And idk it has just been very helpful to me.

And know that I'm absolutely cheering you on. Genuinely. I think ur really cool for even asking me- I would have been way to nervous to ask anyone ab it. So ur kinda my hero for that now I hope u realize. So I want you to succeed, and I don't just *believe*, I KNOW you can do it!!!!!

Whoop whoop!!!!!!!

Ur so much more amazing than you realize, I promise <3<3<3

Did that answer your question at all or was I just rambling ab obvious things??? 😬

[goldustwomun]

hold me while you wait (b.b.)

pairing: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x ex! pilot! reader

summary: when rooster goes down, you remember how you loved him, how that wasn’t enough, and how there was still so much left unsaid.

warnings: a whole lotta swearing, hurt, comfort, but a happy ending, ofc because i’m a little sappy bitch xx

wc: 2.9k+

note: i’ve been working on this for a few hours and i’m! finally done! enjoy my first fic EVER! it’s longer than i thought it would be but i just kept writing; likes & reblogs are super duper appreciated and please, if you have any and all feedback, send it my way! (but nicely, please, i’m sensitive) ALSO, if anyone has tips on formatting for tumblr, send them my way xx

ps. reader’s callsign is ‘honeydew’

You don’t remember how it all happened, who had told you, what you had said – only that the hollow feeling in your chest had worsened, a sense of uneasy calm spread through your very body. They were screaming your name, but you couldn’t hear it. 

So that was it? He’d gone and gotten himself killed?

Looking back, you think you might have been in shock. 

As a pilot, you learn to deal with high-stress situations. Now, if you were hurtling towards the Earth in an about-to-combust jet, you could probably talk yourself through it. Could breathe deep, count back from ten to calm the shaking of your fingers, speak the steps you needed to take to eject, slow and out loud – like you’d done countless times in training. 

If you were hurtling towards the Earth in an about-to-combust jet, you knew how to make it back to safety. 

But what you were scrambling to figure out was how to make it back from the loss, the hurt, and the words you wished you hadn’t heard. They didn’t teach that at flight school, now that you thought about it. Safety, now, was an unfathomable illusion you couldn’t even begin to hope for. It had gone down in the crash with them. 

So with no prior training for this exercise in life, it felt like a cavity eating away at your insides, and your throat stung from the bile threatening to make its escape.

You were going to be sick. Right there, in the control room. In front of Navy officers with decades of experience and the pins to show it. You were really on the verge of puking on them, in fact, if they didn’t move out of your way.

“I need to– I’m going to–” you tried to bite out, hand flying to your face as the other pushed the crowd gathered around you, away.

You legged it to the closest bathroom, emptying your guts into the basin. You don’t know when the gagging sounds pouring from your mouth turned into sobs, but the next thing you knew, you were huddled on the floor, shaking with silent tears.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He was gone and you hadn’t had a chance to apologise. It was all you could think about. Those two words that might have softened the blow, might have made the hurt a little more bearable. If he knew how you felt  – well, what more could you ask for? 

Death was an occupational hazard, you knew it, he did as well before he left. But the fact of the matter is that the reality of your work doesn’t exactly sink in until it touches – no, punches you in the gut with an intimate caress. 

“Honeydew? Open the door.” It was Hangman and you suddenly pleaded with your body to pass out to spare you from any further humility. “Cyclone told us about Mav. Open the door.”

You hadn’t dared to think, let alone speak, their names. He hadn’t mentioned Rooster, either. But why would he? You’d both kept the complexities of your relationships behind steel doors. 

No one needed to know just how messy it was in there, between the two of you. How, if things had gone differently, you might have walked down the aisle with the very man you were certain was now splattered against the mountain side. 

“Fuck off Jake,” you called through the door. “I’m not in the mood for any of your usual bullshit right now.” You tried (and failed) to hide just how much your voice was quivering, raw from the grief of it all. 

You heard him inhale, as if he were readying himself, before he pounded on the door, again, only more aggressively. “It wasn’t a question, kid, open the damn door.” 

You were already glaring at him through the scratched-up metal, but you couldn’t help but comply as you reached up from your place on the grimy floor to unlatch the lock. 

He opened it immediately, took one look at you and shook his head. He said, words blunt, “You look like shit.” 

You didn’t dignify his comment with a response, instead choosing to flip him off and continue to stare intensely at the ground. God, it irked you just how much you felt like an insolent teenager. You’d spent your entire career proving to your peers and superiors that you weren’t some hot-headed Mitchell offspring. You were more than your emotions, your past, your father. 

“You need to get yourself together, Honey. You can’t lock yourself away every time someone dies. This is our job. Shit happens. Good people die. Do you think Mav wou--”

He never finished his sentence because you’d already pinned him down with a glare so fierce he almost apologised on the spot. Almost, of course. He tried again, “Don’t give me that look. You know he wouldn’t want you to–”

“You have no fucking idea what he would have wanted,” you injected again. Standing up and brushing whatever dirt had clung to your uniform away, you stepped towards the door and stopped. 

With one last glance back at a gaping Hangman, looking grotesquely clean against the filth of the walls and the decaying yellow light, you took a steadying breath, counted back from ten, and returned to your quarters. 

Neither of you know how you let it get this bad. You’d always told each other, no matter what, you’d find a way to fix things. Rooster had experienced enough loss in his life to understand the importance of holding onto those you love. 

And fuck, did he love you.

Sometimes, when you’d both managed to find the time to make it back to Fighter Town, in between unbearably long stints at different bases across the country, you’d find yourselves walking hand-in-hand down the beach as the sun set. 

It wasn’t anything particularly special, at least you didn’t think so. Plenty of couples walked down the same beach, with the same envelope of comfortable silence. 

But what you loved about Rooster, about Bradley, was that he always walked on the side closest to the water. He said his father was taken by the sea, and he wouldn’t let it take you as well. 

While you teased him incessantly for the cheesiness of it all, you’d admit, just as easily, how it made your heart ache for him all the more. In fact, the seemingly limitless capacity you had for your love of Bradley Bradshaw had almost scared you away once, but you’d learned to lean into the fear, the discomfort, the potential for it all to burn to the ground. 

What you hadn’t known then was that while you had embraced your fear, Bradley had let his control him. He stood between you and the sea out of love, but also because of an unspoken fear of his that made him want to protect you, as well. 

So when Bradley chose to not tell you about your admission to TOPGUN, an opportunity that would have made you the youngest female pilot to have been selected, you quickly understood that the love you both shared would never be enough. 

“Where is it?” 

He looked up from his phone for only a glance before returning to tap on the screen. You were already revved up and looking for a fight by then, and his lack of attention was doing little to help contain that fire smouldering in the pit of your stomach.

“Bradley, I’m talking to you.” He knew he was in trouble when you used his name, not Rooster. 

“Where’s what?” he finally asked, setting his phone to the side and walking over to you. You were rooted at the door of the kitchen, arms crossed defensively as if you were worried he’d strike at any moment. 

“The letter. My letter. From TOPGUN,” you said, voice raising. His hands came to cup your face, a habit of his that would normally force you to look into his eyes and melt. But the problem now was that you didn’t want to relax. You wanted your letter. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about, hun,” he soothed, a flash of hurt crossing his face as you slapped his comforting hands away. 

“Of course you do. Dad said they were sent out weeks ago, and when I asked the Postman this morning, he said you had signed off on a ‘top secret’ package. So where is it, Bradley.”

He sighed in defeat, looking everywhere but right at you. “Bradley,” you bit out again. “Don’t tell me what I think you’re about to tell me…”

“I ripped it up,” he confessed when the silence between the two of you became unbearable. That had never happened before. The quiet that had surrounded the pair of you had always been something you relished in, but now? It threatened to swallow you whole. 

“Why?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. You had started crying, tears of anger and disbelief. 

“Because,” was his answer then, finally meeting your gaze. Bradley’s own eyes were more hard steel than loving comfort then. You couldn’t recognise him, not anymore.

“I’m going to need something more than fucking ‘because’, Bradshaw.”

“Because,” he tried again, mouth a thin line, and you could see in the way he shifted his weight  between his feet that he was battling with himself on whether he should tell you the truth or not. 

“We’re getting married, Bradley. I deserve the truth,” you injected eventually, despair and disappointment laced between syllables. You reached up to hold his face in your hands, now, thumb brushing across the stubble of his jaw as his hands rested, with an even, familiar weight, on your hips. 

“Because if you go to TOPGUN, I’m afraid you won’t come back,” he admitted, forehead resting defeatedly against your own. 

Your eyes fluttered shut at his confession. It was silent again as you considered your next words carefully. 

“You shouldn’t have done that. You had no right to do that. I love you, Bradley, you know I do. But right now, I’ve never hated you more.” He jerked out of your embrace, that stoniness returning to his features. He was closed off to everyone, you included. 

“You said yourself, we’re getting married, so shouldn’t you take my feelings into account? I don’t want you to go,” he fired back instantly. “Don’t. Go.”

“Of course, I care about how you feel! Of course, I would have taken them into account!”

“‘Would have’?” he questioned, incredulous. Bradley shook his head in disbelief, hands resting on his hips as he stopped and stared you down. “If I hadn’t hidden the letter from you, would you have listened to me and declined the offer?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped yourself at the last minute. You couldn’t lie to him, not when you’d just ripped him a new one for doing just that. “No. I’d have listened but I would have accepted anyway.”

He nodded in understanding, but it looked oddly like defeat to you. 

The fight had ended there that night, and while you hadn’t called off the engagement or your relationship immediately, it never got better. 

The love you had for each other was quickly lost amongst petty arguments and cruel words, until it was too late and you couldn’t find your way back to how it used to be. 

There was a pounding in your head that sounded a lot like someone banging on a door. And it took you a few minutes to focus your mind enough to realise it was, indeed, someone calling your name through several inches of metal. 

“Fucking– fuck,” you hissed, unwinding your creaking joints from the tangled sheets as you tripped your way to the door. 

You swung it open, “What is I–”

“They’re alive, out on the deck.” You didn’t recognise the officer speaking to you, nor the words spoken. But he looked important, even a little wise with the lines that aged his otherwise smooth features. 

So why was it, you thought, that he was speaking such complete, and utter, bullshit?

“I– What?” you repeated, baffled by his very presence.

“I’m speaking to you, Lieutenant. Out on the deck. Go!” he shouted now, giving you a rough yank so that you’d start walking towards the staircase on the opposite end of the hall. Your feet were moving out of fear of being trampled because the frowning, possibly wise, officer followed, hot at your heels. 

You blinked up at the sun, not yet registering the screaming crowd. At first, you thought they were screams of outrage, despair, relentless grief. They must’ve been, right? You couldn’t be the only one mourning the loss of the two most important people in your life. The thought was unfathomable.

But that was when the crowd parted after a few people had spotted you, staring dazedly ahead.  

You didn’t see them, not at first. They were camouflaged by a sea of mossy green uniforms like your own, but then your Dad looked over at you with that blinding smile of his, and you were barreling into his arms before you’d actually understood what was happening.

“Y-you’re– you’re–” you stammered out. It felt like your soul was trembling inside your body, and Pete gripped you even harder in response. You had always been an overactive child, but with that came an unbearable amount of anxiety. It was only Pete, your Dad's tight embrace that calmed you down. That hadn’t changed. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay, I’ve got you,” he repeated, low and unwavering, over and over again. 

“I thought you were dead.” It sounded more like an accusation than a statement, but then Pete only chuckled at his daughter’s stubbornness that was entirely his own. 

“I thought I was as well, but Bradley–”

“Bradley?” you interrupted, turning in his arms to find a beaming Rooster shaking hands, in the manliest display of affection you’d ever seen, with Hangman. 

You broke free of your father’s arms (he was already letting go, almost on the verge of pushing you towards Rooster himself – but he’d never tell you that), shoving the crowd out of the way, until you stood in front of him, panting. 

“I can explain,” he said immediately, recognising the anger in your stance.

“You can explain? You can fucking explain?” you spit out, shoving him, hard; a move that surprised him enough so that he actually stumbled a step or two back. 

“Come on, Melon, don’t be like this,” he urged quietly, the two of them entirely unaware of just how intently everyone was watching them. He hadn’t called you that in years, hadn’t dared to. It was something he used to tease you with when you were younger, and the nickname had stuck enough so that you’d been knighted ‘Honeydew’ at flight school. 

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that!” You were crying and shouting and really, if you’d known how borderline psychopathic you looked, you would have stopped yourself about two sentences ago. 

“You’re an impulsive, egotistical, reckless little shit, Bradley. I can’t– I just– I can’t believe–” Your words were moving at a mile a minute and it wasn’t long until you hit a speed bump hard enough to leave you a crying, blubbering mess. 

You didn’t waste a moment then, throwing your arms around him and burying your tear-stained face in the crook of his neck, in the only place, outside of your father’s arms, you’d ever felt safe. You were scrambling for something to hold onto before, but you’d found somewhere, someone, to anchor onto. 

“I’m sorry, Bradley. I’m so sorry,” you confessed into his skin. He pulled you back, resting your face in his palms as he finally got a good look at your flushed cheeks and snotty nose. “I heard you go down, and I heard Dad as well, and all I could fucking think was ‘I never said sorry’. You have to know–”

He’d tell you later that you looked beautiful, and you’d smack him with a pillow for lying. 

“I know, Melon, I know,” he whispered back, voice breaking under the weight of emotions the both of you were feeling so freely. “I love you, I’ve always loved you. I’m a fucking idiot because, when it mattered most, when you’d come to resent me, to hate me, I didn’t tell you.” He was crying silently and you don’t think you’d ever seen him cry before. “I love you.”

You felt the physical ache of your heart cracking open, making room in your chest for him to occupy once more. “I never hated you, how could I have ever hated you. I’ve loved you, always. Even when I was mad, I knew I would always love you.”

Rooster only held back a second longer before giving in. The shock, the hurt, the love. He leaned forward, slotting his lips, sweetly, against yours, and poured those very emotions into every press of your mouths. 

It was only then that the world around them returned, as did the roaring laughter and cheers of your peers. The surprise of seeing the two of you together, confessing such intimate feelings, had faded as your friends – Phoenix, Hangman, Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, Bob – suffocated you with savouring hugs. 

You had more to say to him, to Rooster. But you knew it could wait. You’d find the time to make it back to the beach, to hold each other close as the tide crawls to shore. 

You knew Rooster would hold you, wait, and listen. 

Hope you enjoyed! Reblogs make me happpyy!

[meowdarame]

second skin

pairings: atsumu miya x f!reader (afab!reader, she/her pronouns)

warnings: NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI!; blowjobs (kinda), frottage (kinda), spit kink (so much spit omg), allusions to cunnilingus at the end

notes: i wanted to write this for shion but i’ve written so much for him as of recent so i decided to write for my other pretty blonde bitch boy <3 (also shoutout to sabby & bloom for matching me up with tsumu baby. the brainrot is coming back!) likes and reblogs are super, duper appreciated!

a mosaic of purple and red bruises line his thighs— your swollen lips have been sucking at the muscular flesh for what feels like hours, nibbling and leaving tiny bite marks on the setter’s tanned skin.

“baby,” atsumu breathily drawls, and the sound catches your attention. you lift your head from between his thighs to drink in his fucked out state— you swear that this image belongs on the ceiling of the sistine chapel. his platinum blonde hair clings to his face as a sheen of sweat coats his forehead; his cheeks are flushed with a rosy tint, and his chest heaves up and down while he struggles to catch his breath. atsumu’s always been beautiful, but right now, he’s absolutely angelic.

“please, suck me off.” the words are meant to be assertive, but they tumble past his lips as a whimper. it makes a smile creep up on your lips as you litter soft kisses up and down the tent in his boxers.

“is my baby tsum getting needy?” you tease him in between each lingering kiss. “tell me, handsome, where does it hurt?”

“is it here?” your wet lips press against the base of his length. “here, baby?” you mimic your ministrations on the ridge where his head and his shaft meet. you finally get to the wet spot on his boxers, where his neglected tip has been leaking precum for the past hour. when your plush lips leave a barely-there kiss on the darkened spot, his hips buck up and push your face harder against his sensitive head.

“oh, i bet that’s where it hurts most.”

atsumu frantically nods his head, growing impatient with your playful teasing. “yes, princess, ‘s where it hurts.” his fingers hook underneath the elastic waistband of his boxers, slowly pushing them down. “c’mon love, just please suck me off—”

your hands grab his wrists, effectively stopping him from sliding down his underwear. “nuh-uh, tsumu. not yet.”

ptui. a glob of your spit lands on the darkened spot on atsumu’s boxers, making the wet area even larger. you spit again and once more, until a pool of spit covers the bulge around his tip. your hand spreads the sticky wetness along his whole shaft until his entire dick print is coated with spit. the cotton material sticks to atsumu’s cock like it’s second skin, making your fleeting touches and kisses feel even more pleasurable.

your pointed tongue languidly runs along the vein that’s protruding through the thin fabric; once the pink muscle reaches the ridge that connects his head and his shaft, you flick your tongue back and forth over the bump, making atsumu raise his hips to press harder against your face.

“someone’s sensitive,” you coo in between licks. “think you can cum like this, baby?”

“mhmm.” a choked moan is all that he can manage to muster out, far too engrossed in the pleasure you’re giving him. “yer doing so fuckin’ good. please make me cum, angel.”

your hand sneaks up his thighs to cup at his heavy balls. you play with them through the fabric— holding them gently in your palm and massaging them between your fingers. your free hand strokes his bulge, toying with all the places that your tongue is ignoring.

a string of expletives slips past atsumu’s lips when he comes undone in his boxers, making even more of a mess of the undergarment. you can feel his balls tightening in your hand as you roll them between your fingers, helping milk them dry as he rides out his high. when his orgasm finally recedes, you pull away to admire your work— the front of his underwear is almost completely soaked from the copious amount of cum that he released.

“d’ya like that, baby?” you giggle as you run your nail along the fuzz of his happy trail. “did i make ya feel good?”

“of course, sweetness,” he airily pants. “ya always do.”

“good,” you hum, slowly crawling out from between his legs to lie your head on his chest. his open arms welcome you, and once you’re nestled against his warm body, he squeezes you tight.

“y’know, it’s a lot harder to do than you might think,” you admit to him, and he nods. “but it’s still fun, though. i’m definitely down to do it again.”

“i see,” he murmurs, and from the inflection of his voice you can tell that he’s pondering your words. “well that’s good then, because next time i wanna try eatin’ ya out through yer panties. no takin’ ‘em off— bet i could make ya cum in under five minutes.”

you raise your eyebrows at him, a doubtful look cast across your face, but he just responds to your disbelief with a wink. you roll your eyes and scoff, “wanna bet on that?”

in one swift motion— before you can even process what’s going on— you’re underneath atsumu’s body, caged in between his toned arms. his knee parts your thighs, pressing the bony joint to your clothed cunt and lightly rubbing against your clit.

“yer on.”

tagging: @sabyss @petalsrdead @miya-dynasty @ohtobiors @frenchtoastmafia @devilgirlcrybabiey @chaotic-fangirl-blog @semisgroupie @dessceased @sunat2508 @rinsie @crystal-lilac +++ @noekoi for thirsting over this scenario with me & @pixieinc because mefeels this scenario is up your alley (i hope it’s okay to tag you!)

[catcze]

How about shutting kazuha up with a kiss (consetual ofc)

I love his flowery words but sometimes he talks a bit much

-☆

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

!!⠀Feat : Kazuha x GN! Reader

!!⠀## : Fluff !! 

!!⠀CWs : Kissing, fluffy feels, some making out? Nothing super duper suggestive tho. Also my poetry skills are shit I’m so sorry </3

I’ll be honest I didn’t expect to end up writing somethign this long, but here we are now akjsdnsa The way this has been sitting in my drafts for days bc I couldn’t come up w/ a romantic haiku for the life of me–– also i switched up the promt a teeny tiny bit hope you don’t mind!!

It's been going on for about two hours now.

Kazuha has been mumbling to himself, his brow furrowed in what you guess was frustration while he leans over the balustrade. Pale sheets of paper lay discarded on the glossy wood beside him, blank and unused. The young ronin has one hand grasping a sheet, while the other is busy twirling a brush-tipped pen.

He's been staring hard at the paper, worrying his lip and huffing, as if he expects the haiku to jump from his mind onto it without much preamble.

"Do you not feel tired?" You ask, reclining against the wall. You cock your head, a small smile on your face. "If you stare any harder at the paper, it might just catch fire, love."

Kazuha chuckles, still staring at his paper like a petulant kitten. "Perhaps," is all he replies before his lips are once more occupied mumbling disjointed lines of a poem that he just couldn't get right.

With a sigh, you push off from your relaxed position, taking a hold of his upper arm and gently tugging him back into the shade and out of the sun. "You might burn," you chastise him. "Perhaps you've been in the heat so long your brain melted–– what are you doing?"

Kazuha sighs, setting his writing materials on a nearby table. The moment his hands are empty, you take them into yours, squeezing them reassuringly. The wrappings on his right hand have loosened a bit, you notice. You'll have to re-do them for him later.

"I'm having some trouble composing a haiku," he says, his smile soft and a bit tentative.

"It wouldn't be the first time," you joke in return, causing him to address you with a dry stare and a cocked brow. You chuckle at him.

"I'm having some trouble," he reiterates, "because whenever I attempt to put my thoughts to paper... it never seems to fit. Every attempt I make to write down my words, it appears as if an error stares me in the face, and I just have to rectify it. I’m never satisfied by my results. "

“What makes this one so special?” You ask, squeezing his hands. “You’re not usually so critical of your haikus.”

Kazuha chuckles, a small grin on his face. You begin to swing your connected hands, something that softens his eyes with fondness.

“I wished for it to be a gift. For you.” He doesn’t look you in the eye when he says this, instead looking off to the side as a flush begins to creep up his neck. Nevertheless, he still talks despite his apparent embarrassment, and you can’t help but want to coo. He’s adorable.

“I hoped that you would take it as a gesture of my love and affection,” Kazuha says softly, taking one hand from your grasp and using it to stroke your cheek and cup your face, holding it as if it were the most fragile of glass. “The haiku I were to compose would have been to let you know how often I think of you. How often I wish to kiss you and hold you close.”

The redness had spread, painting his face in a pretty blush, but he does not shy away from your gaze now. His smile is soft, holding all his affections in such a simple thing. With the light behind him and the glow of the sea reflected in his eyes, you can’t help but admire the beauty that is Kaedahara Kazuha. His touch on you never roughens or jolts, no, he continues to hold you like you are that which is most precious to him. Maybe you are.

“Recite it for me anyway?” You ask him, voice shy. “I don’t mind if it’s unfinished. I just... if it’s important to you, I’d love to hear it.”

He chuckles, then nods in acquiesce. How could he resist when you make his heart beat so fast?

“Lips of clouds and dreams / Yearning for another touch / Weak to love’s caress.”

Kazuha waits in silence, feeling your cheeks grow hot in his palm. a smile grows on his face when your eyes avert from his, though there’s no mistaking the pleased warmth of your skin.

You clear your throat and he listens intently. “Say it again?” You request.

He does as you command, the words coming easier around this time. He recites haiku reverently, as if it were a gift he was leaving at your altar. Kazuha’s words are low and hushed, comparable to a purr, but not at all lacking for the impact they have on you.

“Again,” you tell him, leaning further into his palm.

He say it again, a grin beginning to form on his lips.

“Again.”

He says it again.

“Again.”

As many times as you ask, he will always comply. 

It surprises him the slightest bit, though, when you inch closer to him, close enough that you’re chest-to-chest and your unique smell ––like home, like an adventure–– is so strong that he feels like he’d happily suffocate on it. His hands come to warp around you, and your drape over his shoulders and encircle his neck. It feels so right to be entangled together, to have your bodies pressed so close not even the thinnest of papers could slip through. He relishes in the proximity, in the sparks that erupt in his chest at your touch.

Your breath is warm against his sensitive skin, and your lips are so close that they could touch. A minute shiver races up his back when you speak, drawing his half-lidded gaze to your mouth. 

“Say it again, Kazuha?”

“Lips of clouds and dreams.” The purr travels from his chest into yours, and his arms tighten around you. “Yearning for another touch.”

“Weak to love’s––” But before he can finish, your lips are sealed on his, cutting off his words and pulling a low, happy moan from him instead. Your kiss is insistent, lips moving against his and stealing his breath with every flick of your tongue. The arms around his neck tighten, pulling him closer to you (or, perhaps, pressing yourself closer to him) and deepening the kiss. 

He tastes sweet, you can’t help but notice. Like the dango he had once made for you, a specialty of his hometown. You sigh into him, and he eagerly swallows it. His skin is flushing under your touch, and your own body was beginning to warm the longer he held you in his embrace.

But good things can only last so long–– you both break apart when your breathing turns shallow. You don’t go very far, though, nor do you disconnect fully from each other. His breath is still warm and heavy on your kiss-swollen lips, and there’s a cute flush on Kazuha’s face. 

You lips curve into a smile, giddy and dopey from his touch, and he easily mirrors your expression. 

“Hi,” you say quietly, happily, leaning a bit to press your foreheads together.

“Hello,” he responds in the same tone of voice. There’s a glint of emotion in his eyes that makes your heart full, that makes the blood in your veins warm under his gaze. “I trust you enjoyed my gift?”

You laugh, brushing your lips together again. Instead of answering, you slot your lips together once more, your eyes fluttering shut as you lose yourself in the feeling. 

Kazuha enthusiastically kisses back, heart thrumming in his chest–– for he is, after all, weak to your love’s embrace.

[scribbling-dragon]

The Bad Ending

Chapter 2

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(4,549 words)

note: there's a lot of mentions of blood and injuries in this chapter (mainly because scott's wounds don't disappear as a ghost) so beware of that!

(also also! reblogs are super duper appreciated! writing’s probably gonna be pretty slow because of school rn so yeah!)

Being a ghost…isn't as fun as he's been led to believe.

It’s not the empty nothingness of Aeor’s odd plane of existence that he had expected. Endless swathes of white that seemingly stretch on endlessly. He’s glad it’s not the nothingness of Aeor’s realm, he’s not sure he would be content to wander those lands for the rest of his existence. The fog within it had been too thick, too curling, much too eager to snag around his ankles and wrists as Aeor led him through it. He’s rather certain he would have been lost in its depths moments later, ensnared within its grasp.

Still, the afterlife is boring, and he’s been sitting - floating? - in Aeor’s Church for what feels like hours now, and sitting in the antler’s of Aeor’s shrine isn't as fun as it used to be when he can hardly feel the gold digging into his wings and legs.

Still, he lounges there, head tipped back and re-memorising the swirls and beams of the roof from this particular angle, tilting his head this way and that to try and find a picture hidden among it. He’s surprised he hasn't found one yet, Aeor knows that he would have hidden at least one rude gesture among the paint if he had been tasked with craning his head back and painting a goddamn ceiling for the rest of his life.

Maybe the other empires were right about Rivendell being too isolated. Who would even willingly volunteer for that? And then somehow manage to worm their way into his history lessons.

It only summons some kind of empty amusement, nothing that lifts his spirits - though he can very easily lift his own spirit if he thought about it carefully - or even makes him feel a little less dead.

The wound in his side seems rather set on reminding him constantly that he is actually dead. The chasm in his chest also enjoys backing that up, the weird ache settling around the edges of the wound is something that he would rather not deal with.

Being a ghost really isn't as fun as he had been led to believe, especially as he apparently egts to carry these wounds with him for the rest of his afterlife. Lucky him.

He sighs, and it doesn't echo in an even remotely satisfying way, leaving him feeling more tired and frustrated than he had been a moment ago, still staring aimlessly at the ceiling. He doesn’t drag his eyes away from the ceiling, rather unwilling to see whatever poor sod it is that’s come in to cry over his corpse.

He rather wishes that he’d made a request to not have an open casket. It’s just weird that all these people are coming in to cry over him, and his face is just there. Again. It’s weird. And more than a little creepy seeing as he’s sat just above it.

The sound of the poor sod’s feet scuffing over the carpet echoes, as sounds are meant to in the Church. He sighs, and tries not to feel unreasonably angry when it still doesn't echo, repeating to himself that he’s dead, that his expectations are truly far too high- but really? What does it take for him to wallow in silence? Without this or that person shuffling their way through to cry in a rather irritating manner over his corpse while he’s sat a few feet away.

The only reason he hasn't tried to throttle one of the mourners is because there’s reasonably no reason for them to actually know that he’s a few feet away. Apart from the religious texts that state the dead are able to visit the living world. But he hadn't exactly put stock in that, and there’s a suspicious absence of others floating around in here with him, so maybe it’s just a him thing.

He tips his head further back, stretching a crick out of his back that doesn't actually exist, probably squashing his wings under him in a way that would be unbearable if he was alive, but now only gives him a small ache where his wings bend.

At least this mourner is significantly quieter than the other ones. At least they're not wailing like some of the others had. They're much more like Cormac, quiet in their grieving so that he can be left in peace to debate the advantages of being able to visit the still-living versus not actually being able to leave the Church.

Cormac creeps back into his mind, and he shudders at the thought of xir face, the way xe had forgone xir usual deep purples and greys for the traditional deep blue of mourning. It was odd, to see xem dressed in colours so different to xir usual. Still, the silence as xe stood between Axen and Calla had unsettled him, and he had promised himself not to look at any mourners from then onwards.

The memory of xir face still makes him feel a little ill, the taste of bile coating the back of his throat. Despite the fact that he can't taste anything anymore, which is probably for the better seeing as his teeth are still coated in blood, the dried flakes of it seemingly encrusted on his face permanently. Aeor had seemed apathetic about it, and after seeing the state Alinar was in, he’s actually a little glad for the way he went out. Having a gaping hole in his throat didn't seem like something fun to deal with, even if the sight of his own ribs still made him feel a bit ill still.

A cut-off sob makes him freeze, shoulders tensing as he resists the urge to sigh again, knowing it’s only going to annoy him further. The person chokes on it, sounding as though they're holding a hand to their face, trying to stifle the sound completely.

He hears them hit the floor with a muffled thud, and he winces in sympathy, knowing full well that the carpet lining the altar really isn't as thick as it seems at first. Either the person doesn't notice or is simply too caught up in their grief to notice, because he doesn't hear a cut-off sound of pain, unlike some of the others that had repeated their actions.

“Oh, Scott,” he freezes, hand momentarily losing its grip on one of the antler branches, and he almost slips from it, even though he technically shouldn't be able to do that anymore. He tumbles out anyway, landing unceremoniously on top of his own coffin, scrambling backwards and away from it as quickly as possible, putting distance between himself, his corpse, and the poor sod that he might have been a little too quick to judge.

Jimmy kneels in front of him, tears glistening in his eyes and his cod head clenched in one hand. He swallows, the feeling catching and sticking in his throat as he stares at Jimmy, taking another, calculated, step backwards and promptly bumping into the base of Aeor’s shrine.

Jimmy doesn't look up at the faint sound, mainly because he didn't hear it, simply continuing to stare down at the coffin that houses his body- and it really isn't getting any less weird, no matter how many times he looks at it and sees his own face staring back at him-

“It’s not fair.” Jimmy whispers, and he still doesn't look up, eyes remaining fixed on Scott’s face, eyes he hadn't been able to see nearly enough times. He drags in a breath, and he winces at the sound of it - it scrapes and wheezes in his chest and he silently begs him to put the cod head back on, if only so he doesn't have to watch Jimmy suffocate in front of him.

He would beg aloud, fat lot of good that would do, but no words seem able to force their way around the clot in his throat. He feels sick.

“It’s just,” Jimmy cuts himself off, sniffing and rubbing a fist across his eyes, pressing his hands into his eyes for a few seconds too long. His own eyes ache in sympathy, and he wishes Jimmy had never spoken, if only so he didn't have to watch him do this, watch him mourn while he can't do anything but stand here. “It’s so unfair, and you said, you've told me about Aeor. He’s a god of justice and champions, but that didn't help you. You're still dead, and he’s still won, despite this.” Jimmy laughs, a wet sound that burbles in the back of his throat like he’s choking on it. “Well, I'm hoping you won, at least, not like we could ask you or anything. Seems like a waste if you’d lost after all that.”

Jimmy makes another choking sound, and it’s this that spurs him into action, taking one, two, three steps forward, before he’s falling to the carpet beside Jimmy. It sends a jolt through his knees, because the carpet really isn't as thick as it looks, but the pain is muted, dulled, just like everything else involved with his death.

“I'm sorry,” he says, even though Jimmy can't hear him, won’t hear him, will never hear him. “I'm sorry.” He reaches a hand out towards Jimmy, hardly noticing how his blood-slicked hands shake, cupping Jimmy’s face as softly as he can, even knowing that Jimmy wouldn't feel it, even if he punched him square in the jaw.

Jimmy’s skin is blazing hot beneath his palm, and he yanks his hand back as though burned, almost expecting his palm to come away blistering beneath the blood that permanently coats his hands. He stares down at it, watching as the blood glistens beneath the light, shining oddly as he twists it this way then that way. Still, no blisters spring up spontaneously, and he’s left staring at his hand like a fool.

When he looks up at Jimmy, he almost expects him to be staring at him, for his hand to have left a smear of blood on his cheek. Almost. He knows that it won’t have happened, but he searches Jimmy’s face for it anyway, tracing a shaking finger against the scales that decorate his cheeks, and only allowing his eyes to look over the delicate fins behind his ears. He knows better than to touch those, even if his touch has no impact.

He watches, hand still cupping Jimmy’s cheek, as the tears suddenly spill over, tracking down his cheeks as he bows his head. He jerks his hand back, watching with muted horror as Jimmy sobs, nothing like the subdued crying from before.

His whole body shakes with it, shoulders curling inwards as he grips the cod head so tightly that he’s worried it’s going to be torn to pieces beneath his grip. He shakes, and he can do nothing but hover an anxious hand just over his shoulder, unsure of how to approach this, how to even go about fixing this.

“I'm sorry.” Jimmy gasps out, and the apology catches him so off-guard, that he doesn't even have a response. Nothing to say to fall on deaf ears and only make himself feel better. “You didn't deserve that, you-” he chokes, again, but seems to steel himself a moment later, shoulders tensing. “I saw you,” he says, and those words are enough to summon that sick feeling back, “I was the one that…found you. I think you were still alive when I found you, and I tried, I really, really, tried to save you. I swear.”

Jimmy’s breath shudders, and he feels tears building in his eyes, hot and blurring his vision until he can hardly see Jimmy anymore. “I don't think I've ever seen that much blood.” Jimmy whispers, as though he’s afraid to say it. “Codfolk aren't fighters, we’re not designed for battle. We’re healers and merchants and messengers and anything else you can think of, really, but we’re not fighters.” Jimmy presses his forehead into the coffin with hardly a sound, but it sends a pang of pain through his chest, twisting his heart uncomfortably as he can do nothing to ease Jimmy’s suffering.

“Maybe I should've tried harder,” Jimmy says, apologising for something that isn't his fault, apologising for something he should never have to apologise for. “Maybe if I’d gotten over myself sooner and asked for help when I needed it, this never would have happened.”

“No.” He shuffles closer, cupping Jimmy’s face in his hands and trying not to cry even more when he doesn't even register the touch. “No, you shouldn't be apologising. This is wrong, this is so, so wrong. You're wrong, you- you-”

He can't think of anything else to say, blood dripping from the ends of his fingers and sliding down Jimmy’s cheeks for a few inches before disappearing completely. The chasm in his chest yawns wider than ever, threatening to swallow him whole if he doesn't do something.

“You shouldn't trouble yourself so,” Aeor’s voice sets his nerves on edge, making his teeth grit as he ignores the god, focusing on Jimmy instead.

“Why not?” He asks, gritting his teeth together harder as soon as the words have slipped out of his mouth. The blood continues to drip from his fingers, trailing down Jimmy’s in a macabre imitation of tears. “Why should I not trouble myself?”

“There is no good it will do. Not for you and not for him.” Is Aeor’s calm response, and it makes the anger simmering in his stomach begin to boil.

He drags his hands away from Jimmy’s face, pulling himself from his side in a way that rakes thorns over his nerves, wheeling on the god with fury lighting his veins.

“It won't do me any good?” He asks, stalking forward, “No good?” He shakes his head with a laugh, “There’s been nothing good that’s happened to me ever, everything about me is cursed, and apparently that spreads to others I care for too!”

Aeor doesn't flinch in the face of his anger, staring impassively at him.

He snorts a laugh, something so impolite that it would have gotten him slapped if he did it as a child. “I promised myself that I wouldn't let him die during that fight, and instead I've left him alone, dealing with the fallout of me dying instead!”

“I can see why you might be angry-”

“Angry? Angry? I'm beyond furious, there’s so much just-” he cuts himself off with a growl, anger bubbling up his throat. His hands feel slick with blood, drops clinging to the ends of his fingers as he throws his arms about. “You're the god of life, of justice. Is there truly nothing you can do?” Aeor stares at him. “Nothing? Truly, is your power so depleted that you poured the last of it into forming me, into giving me- these!” He gestures at the top of his head, and Aeor’s eyes flick upwards, the only movement he’s managed to get from the god throughout this whole conversation.

“I still have my power.”

“Then why can't you do something?” He restrains the urge to reach out and grab one of Aeor’s antlers, and only because it won't be doing him any favours with the argument he’s trying to form. “I've heard- we’ve all heard the stories of the healings you did, back when you actually bothered to make appearances to your followers. Back when you truly cared.”

“Do not speak to me of care.” Aeor’s voice remains calm, but the cold undertone raises shivers on his skin, almost forcing him to take a step backwards until he roots himself in place. He can still hear Jimmy’s murmured apologies behind him, and he wishes for nothing more than to return to him. He refuses to look in his direction, ensuring Aeor doesn't see him waver.

“Then begin acting like you actually do!” He feels out of breath, chest heaving, flashes of white in the corner of his vision giving him a glimpse of his ribs, reminding him of exactly the position he’s in.

“Fine.” Aeor’s eyes flash, turning to chips of ice within his skull. “I’ll show you care.”

The next breath feels wrong, sparks of pain shooting through his chest, stabbing into his lungs with the ferocity of a true winter gale. He staggers, losing his balance and breaking his eyes away from Aeor’s. He hits the ground with a thud, knees reverberating with the force of it, and the carpet really isn't thick enough.

He’s blinking stars from his vision a second later, limbs feeling oddly heavy as he shifts, wings trapped beneath him uncomfortably as he squirms. The pain in his lungs doesn't dissipate, only growing sharper and more intense as he inhales raggedly.

He has to lean to the side a moment later to splutter out a ragged breath, and he gags as he watches blood splatter across the carpet. He waits for it to fade, counting the seconds inside his head as he stares at it. Instead, it only seems to darken, sinking further into the carpet in a way that shouldn't be possible.

“Oh my god,” Jimmy’s voice cuts through the whirlwind of thoughts currently making their way through his brain, and he looks up. Their eyes connect, and he freezes, as though caught doing something he shouldn't be doing. Jimmy continues to stare back at him, eyes growing wider by the second. “What the fuck.” He whispers, and it’s so sudden that he can't help but laugh.

He leans further over the side of what he very quickly realises is his coffin, wings aching with various pains and scrapes, though it’s nothing compared to the burning pain in his side and lungs.

“Hi.” He’s not sure what else to say, what are you meant to say when you're suddenly revived? Jimmy apparently doesn't know what to say in response, which, fair enough, and he simply splutters, as though he’s the one with blood slowly crawling up his windpipe.

“Scott?”

“I hope so.” He looks down at himself, grimacing a little at the wound on his chest. It seems mostly healed over, enough to hide his ribs from sight, at least, but there’s still a gaping hole in his chest sluggishly leaking blood, and his hands are freshly stained with new blood. “This is lovely and all, but I don't suppose you could help me get to Ophelia?”

Jimmy makes another choking sound, but staggers to his feet regardless, leaning over the coffin to help him clamber out of it. His legs shake as he stands, but he bats JImmy’s hand away when he tries to pick him up, settling for leaning heavily against Jimmy and trying not to grimace too much at the way his wings drag behind him. That’s going to be a pain to clean later.

Jimmy seems to take all of this in stride, guiding him out of the Church - and he can't help but wince preemptively as they exit, certain that he’s going to bash his head on the same barrier from before - and into the streets beyond.

More than one person gapes at them as they stumble through the streets, and what a sight they must make. He’s leaning more on Jimmy rather than walking at this point, one arm cupped around his stomach as though that’s going to stem the bleeding. It doesn't seem as fierce as before, at the very least.

They run into their first problem when they reach the Palace, and the guards are frozen still, blocking the door completely as they stare at him. It’s good to know that they're still capable of their jobs in times of great shock, but it’d be a little more helpful if they could move aside and help him stop bleeding out.

Jimmy ignores them, shouldering their weapons aside and pushing in through the doors with a clatter. The sound stills anyone milling around within the entry hall, meaning he gets treated to another round of shocked stares.

He should probably be more bothered about this, possibly more bothered about the way he’s hunching over to lean heavily on Jimmy and the way that everyone’s definitely going to be gossiping about this as soon as they've confirmed that he’s definitely not dead.

He can't find it in himself to be too bothered, but he has a feeling he’s going to regret that stance rather quickly as soon as this life-threatening moment is over and the Court gossip is whether he’s actually marrying the Codfather or just partaking in a casual dalliance.

It’s the former, but he’s sure his Council will be incredibly eager to relay any and all rumours that might have been put into circulation.

He is, however, quite proud of his dramatic entrance to the healer’s ward, standing in the doorway, blood dripping from his hands as making a right mess on the floor. He silently apologises to whoever it is that’s going to have to clear up his trail from the entry hall to here.

“Smajor.” Ophelia manages to sound disappointed, even as they bustle him over to the nearest cot, dragging Jimmy along with him and snapping the curtains around the bed shut. He allows them to force him onto the bed, wincing as his chest protests, sharp sparks of pain shooting outwards from the wound. “Why am I not surprised,” they shake their head, “Right, I want you to tell me what this smells like.”

They hold out a small vial, and against his better reasoning (which has been shoved to a very far and very dark corner of his mind) he leans forward to inhale it, grimacing as the smell makes his nose burn. “Uh,” his tongue feels oddly thick in his mouth, and he blinks, watching as Ophelia and Jimmy fade in and out of focus. “Fuck you.” He manages, but his eyes are already drooping shut, a pleasant numbness settling in around him.

--- --- ---

He’s not sure what time it is when he wakes, but there's a faint buzzing under his skin, and he feels much warmer than he has in several days. The curtains are still drawn around him, and there’s several dark, indiscernible shapes clustered around his bed.

He can't see very far, the flickering flame of the candle beside him only lighting up so much. Still, as soon as he twitches, he feels the rough rasp of bandages against his skin, tight around his chest in a way that would be uncomfortable if he wasn't so relieved to finally be free of the aching that has plagued him for the last few days.

He grunts, shifting into a sitting position, being incredibly careful of squashing his wings further as he shuffles up the bed, easing himself into a slightly sitting position. Something grabs his wrist, and he squeaks, yanking at the grip, but not managing to break himself free.

“Calm down,” someone whispers in his ear, “It’s just me.”

“Jimmy?” He whispers back, cautious of breaking the silence that has settled over them.

“Yes.” His breath ghosts over the shell of his ear, and he turns to properly face Jimmy, finding him sitting there, cod head clasped in one hand as he leans forward, eyes glimmering copper in the candlelight. “I-” his breath stutters, shaking, “I am so annoyed at you right now.”

“What?” His voice rises a little, and he watches someone jolt in the darkness, their chair squeaking slightly. “You're joking, right?”

“Not really,” Jimmy sighs again. “I'm so annoyed, but I'm also incredibly relieved. God, Scott,” Jimmy rests his forehead against his own, “I was devastated.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No,” Jimmy shakes his head, drawing back to look him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, I should-”

“Shush,” he rests a finger against Jimmy’s lips, even as his hand shakes with the effort, silencing him almost immediately. “I know, kind of hard not to hear you when you're crying over my corpse.” He smiles, but it feels weak.

“You…heard that?”

“Yeah, being a ghost is really not fun.”

“God, Scott,” Jimmy huffs out a laugh, “Of fucking course you’d say something like that after being dead.”

“What else am I meant to say?” He asks, smile spreading further as he stares at Jimmy in amused disbelief, “Sorry, I actually wanted to stay dead, being dead was paradise and I’d really love to make my way back there as quickly as possible?”

“Oh, well, if you say so.” Jimmy pulls back, but the lilting, teasing tone to his voice rids him of any worries he might have had.

“Joking, joking,” he reaches out for him again, and Jimmy links their hands together, lips whispering against the back of his hand, like a promise. “I fully intend on marrying you this time around.”

“This time around?” Jimmy shakes his head. “Marrying me?”

“Well, yeah, obviously. Can't have the rumour mill spinning unnecessarily. Can you imagine the scandal if people started calling the Elvenking a whore?”

“I wouldn't go that far.”

“I would.” He laughs, and it might be a little too loud, but Jimmy hadn't said no, he hadn't immediately denied him, carrying on the conversation as though this is the most casual thing to be discussing and his heart isn't almost beating out of his chest with how fast it’s going. “Unless…you didn't want to?”

“Are you joking?” Jimmy scoffs, and his heart stops for a moment. “Of course I want to marry you. Might have to adjust whatever vows we say, make sure to cut the ‘til death do us part’ bit. I’d rather not have to marry you again if you do this resurrection act again.”

“You wouldn't want to marry me more than once?” He asks, voice teasing, leaning a little too far forward, according to his still tender ribs.

“No.” Jimmy’s bluntness makes him laugh, and his ribs protest even more, “I've seen how you get, I think my sanity can only deal with that once.”

“You wound me, sunflower.”

“Hopefully not mortally.” Jimmy replies, and it's so sudden that it startles a laugh out of him that definitely wakes everyone around his bed, holding whatever weird silent vigil they were doing.

Suddenly, there are several more flames hovering around them, people blinking awake and staring at him. Still, even as Ophelia fusses over him, he only has eyes for Jimmy. Jimmy returns his gaze, even as Lizzie murmurs something to him, leaning over from her seat to rest her elbow on the arm of his chair.

The only thing that distracts him from Jimmy is a small light, so thin and wispy he hardly even sees it among Cormac’s purple flames. Still, he watches it swirl in a tight circle, before disappearing again. His chest feels a little lighter at that, some unknown worry lifting from where it had rested, leaving him feeling even lighter than before.

He looks back at Jimmy, just once more, to make sure he hadn't disappeared during his distraction. He grins, and Jimmy grins back, a blinding smile that makes his heart swoop in a way he’s been growing intimately familiar with.

No matter what Jimmy says, he’s certain he would marry him several times over, if he ever bothered to ask. Which he plans on. Soon.

[askauradonprep]

Uhh, you mentioned in a post a while back - like, 25 march 2021? ish? (lol, not me going through all your posts ever) - that you've accidentally joined cults before, and I wanted to ask about the signs? Since, as far as I'm aware, no one in my family has been in one and I want to know what to avoid/be wary of? Because I DO want to keep myself, my family and my friend safe from anything I can, so any infor/help would be appreciated!

Okay, first of all, never 'not' about going through my posts. I love when people do that! Even aside from the 'happy chemical boost', I like seeing what you guys enjoy when I post. The reason I have fifteen million posts about Huma is because people liked and reblogged those posts and that spurred more head canon creation. Engage with the posts you wanna see on my blog.

Now, for the actual reason you wrote -

I'm gonna start by saying my experience with cults are probably not the kind you're thinking of. One was when I was like...six. My babysitter was telling my mom and posting flyers at school about an art camp that rented a room at her church. Well, surprise, turned out to be a cult that brought us to the auditorium and lit fires and made us sing hymns and come and pray in front of the fire before they brought us back like five minutes before pick up time and gave us 'crafts' like 'dump glitter on a rock so you can tell your parents you did art today'. Well, I was TERRIFIED of fire and so I was extremely quiet when I got home. My mom noticed and my friend told her what happened at camp. She LOST IT. So did our school principal actually - he was going around tearing down flyers himself the next day. My poor babysitter was horrified - this wasn't her actual church putting on the camp, just some group that rented the room and she had no idea what was going to happen. So that was cult number one.

The next one was secular and primarily online but it was still abusive and harmful like, say, Scientology. People still have some lingering health problems from shit the leader made them do. I'm being vague on the details because the leader's still around and is known to trawl online to find mentions of himself or his cults and I'd really rather he not know who I am. I was only there for a month or two before I realized the group wasn't what I thought it was (it presented itself as a fan-space with a lot of the cult stuff happening behind 'closed doors' so to speak. I wasn't privy to a lot of that but I saw the effects on everyone else and it tipped my 'y'all are weird' alarms).

One of my friends is also a cult survivor and this is the test she uses. It was originally based around harmful Alcoholics Anonymous practices, but it's useful for identifying habits in a cult. https://www.orange-papers.mx/orange-cult_q0.html

Take Back Your Life: Recovering from Cults and Abusive Relationships by Janja Lalich and Madeline Tobias is pretty good too, according to her.

Also - Leah Remini. Look into what she says about Scientology. LOTS of good stuff about escaping scary, no shit, 'people who try to leave disappear sometimes' cults.

Now, MY advice?

Is there a leader of a defined group who is either somehow Specially Capable, whether it's a divine connection, psychic abilities, or just really really profound Super Duper Special insight into people? Are they always always right and they (or their followers) get super defensive if they're questioned or caught out lying? Red flag.

Are you free to leave the group without there being totally unreasonable responses like being treated as a totally horrible person forever or losing your whole community? If not, that too is a red flag.

LOTS AND LOTS of abuse tactics like gaslighting, 'bread crumbs' where they drop little hints and lay groundwork for believing things (like say, talking about believing in the possibility of life on other planets (something lots of reasonable people believe in) and talking a lot about New Age stuff people believe and slowly ramping up 'coincidences' until the target takes the risk of going 'OMG you're an alien'. This is how you get cults believing their leader is a Divine Alien. "Well I'd never believe that" - Well, sure, probably not at first. Give it a couple months getting softened and softened up until YOU take the risk of sounding like a weirdo instead of the leader), emotional abuse, intentionally putting you in dangerous or emotionally heightened situation with no warning so you're easier to control, lots of wearing down self esteem, sabotaging other relationships, isolation, 'us against the world' crap, etc.

BRAINWASHING TECHNIQUES. Sleep deprivation is really common, especially if the leader and others get crabby if you try to get a break and go to bed. Even if they're not though, they might still be trying to keep you awake as much as possible so you're less likely to think through the lies (and there's ALWAYS lies upon lies upon lies - or at least bullshit upon bullshit upon bullshit, in the event the leader really believes their own Kool-Aid.). Again, isolation, absolute obedience, some sort of punishment for failing like physical abuse or isolation, etc. If they can use their worldview or framework to totally reframe your identity on their terms, that's one way they can do it (like if you complain about sleep deprivation and they go 'Oh, don't worry, it's normal for aliens, you'll adjust eventually'. Y'know, because you found them as an alien so you're totally one too, you Cool and Clever so and so. Oh but don't tell anybody else outside the group or you'll end up in a lab somewhere). LOTS AND LOTS of guilt trips and again, gaslighting. This isn't all of the tricks but they're the ones I'm thinking of off the top of my head.

Whataboutism - like, sure, I burned half your stuff when you fell asleep on me, but I didn't hit you so this TOTALLY isn't a cult. Or, hey, I don't make you pray, just ~meditate~ so it's not a cult. Those religious ones, they're the cult.

They always always always need more from you for the group. More money, more time, more devotion, etc. Nothing's ever good enough. Oh, but if the leader gets bored of you and moves onto someone else and pushes you away, it just sucks to suck. Never mind the fact they've trained you to build your life and self worth around them. Again, sucks to suck.

EVERYTHING has to be on the leader's terms. It's the Leader Show, all the fucking time.

If all of this is sounding like 'abuse, but make it religious/otherwise small, enclosed group dynamics', then ding ding ding! We have a winner. You're absolutely right.

If you're reading this and going 'oh my god, I think I might be in a cult', first - try not to beat yourself up. You're NEVER too smart/savvy/mean/untrusting/etc. to get snowed. In fact, the more you believe that, the more susceptible you are. Arrogance is absolutely a vulnerability cult leaders use too. Next, try to figure out ways to build up resources to GET OUT. If the cult leader and your other members do not live with you, this is a lot easier. If not, try to look into Leah Remini or others who've escaped cults and see what they did. I specify Leah Remini and other Scientologists because even among cults, Scientology is NOTORIOUSLY hard and dangerous to leave. You basically need a lawyer to do it. They'll have a lot more advice than I will. The general 'leaving an abusive house' tips stand - try to squirrel away money, important documents, anything you can't stand to lose or leave behind because it might not be possible to get it back once you leave. Don't tell anyone ahead of time you're leaving. Try to find a therapist with cult deprogramming experience. I'm sorry, I don't have many specific tips here. Due to the nature of the cults I was in, I never had much difficulty leaving. My friend who left was basically taken home by her mother "just for a few days" and by the time those days were over, she was ready to leave and told the leader she wasn't coming back. She'd already taken most, if not all, her meaningful possessions with her (and the leader was living with people who weren't in the cult so they could always help her get any other personal items back via mail or whatever).

If someone you love is in a cult, try to follow the 'friend in an abusive relationship' playbook. Voice your concerns gently and carefully, don't argue when they push back, and try to be there for them as much as you can. Cult leaders THRIVE on isolating their followers so it's crucial not to let them cut you off from your loved one as much as is possible. Recognize there will be times you're mad at your loved one or burned out, but try to keep present as much as you can. Don't call the police unless it's EXTREME MEASURES time like they're in actual, physical danger. When you're with your loved one, try to provide them as much autonomy and support for their self worth as you can. Ultimately, your loved one will have to realize the cult is a problem on their own. Sometimes the bullshit builds so much you get to the point you just....cannot swallow one more piece of it and the next bit blows it all down. That's when you really need to be there.

Again, I'm not an expert here and I've never had to leave from somewhere imminently physically dangerous, so if you'd like, here are some more resources: https://www.goodreads.com/list/tag/cults. I particularly recommend the cult survivors list.

https://freedomofmind.com/cult-mind-control/bite-model/ - The BITE model is great too. 

And above all remember that not all cults are mystical, and not all of them are religious. A lot of them front like fan pages or multi-level marketing schemes (LOOKING AT *YOU* DOTERRA) so just...keep your eyes open.

[mrs-march-ahs]

Can you please do 26 15 19 with Kit Walker?? Thank you so much and I hope you're having a wonderful day💗💗

Kit Walker’s Nurse at Briarcliffe

15. “Wanna bet?”

19. “You either cum now, or not at all.”

26. “First one to cum is the loser.”

Summary- You’re a nurse at Briarcliffe and you and Kit have fun together. This one instance you leave him hanging so you make it up to him. Twice.

Words- 2.4k

Thank you for all of your requests! They’re so fun to do, please keep them coming! They’re taking me a while but they’re coming! 

As always feedback and requests are super duper appreciated! Also thank you for such a quick solid following! Also thank you @kitwalker02 I’m having a wonderful day and enjoyed doing your request, I hope you like it.

Enjoy:)

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You leave room 7 and walk towards your trolley to collect the next set of medicine. You pick up the medicine cup and swirl around the indistinct white pills. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you look down the corridor and notice you only have a few patients left to give medicine to. You drag your finger down your clipboard list of patients and smile noticing that Kit Walker is next. Although working as a nurse in a mental asylum is difficult, it’s sweet and grateful patients like Kit who make the nightmares worth it. You push your key through the door to unlock his room and walk in, greeted by the sight of Kit tied up to his bed, like usual. His eyes wander around the room bored but when they meet yours, they sparkle and his whole face lights up. He smiles at you and you shut his door and walk over to him.

“Morning Walka”, you say mocking his accent. One of the main things about him that make you tingle and melt inside. He playfully rolls his eyes and opens his mouth when you put the medicine cup near his face. You sprinkle the few pills in his mouth, and he swallows them dry. You smile and stay still, standing by his bed. As much as you wish you could sit and spend the whole day with him, there are other patients who need tending to and it’s unfair for them to be neglected just because Kit’s accent makes you wet. You sigh softly and take a few steps towards the door before Kit’s innocent and happy voice stops you.

“Hey nurse, suh-thing to wash it down with?”

You look at him and place the cup on the table besides him. Although every bone in your body knew it was wrong, you did what your heart and lady bits told you to. You lean down to him and look him in his dark brown lustful eyes.

“I have something special you could wash it down with”, you say smirking. Flirting wasn’t particularly your forte, but you hoped he caught your drift. And boy he did. His usual soft and sweet expression was overpowered by hunger and excitement, as he looks down at your lips. A naughty smile creeps up on your face as you carefully climb his bed, hoping to stay quiet. Knowing Kit’s skill, that was almost impossible. You try to keep your trembling legs still as you straddle his chest, about to move up to his face and have a comfortable sit.

“Nurse, could you get me with a problem, while you’re here?”. You look at him worried, before his eyes motion down. It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not in danger, and the problem he’s referring to was the tightness in his underwear. You smirk at him seeing his massive bulge and whisper to him.

“That’s what I’m here for”.

His smile widens as he can’t contain his excitement. You turn around, your ass practically in his face, and you gently slide your skirt up, to reveal your bare ass. You look over your shoulder at Kit sucking in his lips and looking at how dirty you are to not have underwear on. You give him a cheeky wink before you lean down and get on your hands and knees. You lift his gown and look at his paper-thin underwear. You moan softly looking at his massive cock about to rip through and slide down his underwear slowly. His cock springs up and Kit gasps at the cool air hitting him.

“C’mon nurse, we don’t have all day”.

Kit was tied up by his hands and ankles while you had the keys to every room in the asylum. You could throw him in isolation for a week with just one word, but the clear authority you had over him didn’t change the fact that it was him who owned you. You obeyed his daring words and push your ass closer to his face. You lean down until he can reach your soaking pussy and he blows on it, making you shiver. Knowing the powerful effect he had on you, he proposes a deal.

“First one to cum is the loser”.

You bit your lip instinctively at his dirty words and sexy accent and nod.

“Winner gets a treat”.

Kit lets out a chuckle at your addition and gets to work, lapping up your soaking heat. You gasp at his eagerness and tighten your grip on his gown. Within a few seconds you can feel yourself get even wetter in his mouth before you are snapped back to reality (oop there goes gravity) when Kit stops his incredible work.

“Are ya forgettin’ something, nurse?”, you laugh awkwardly before you lean down and stroke his cock. He groans quietly and goes back to licking you. You put the tip of his cock in your mouth and suckle on it, running your tongue around it. How hard he feels in your mouth and hands turns you on even more. You become a part of an incredible cycle, where the occasional harder suck on Kit makes him groan, and the vibration that gives you, makes you moan. Though you both know you had to stay quiet, you couldn’t help but want to scream about how good he makes you feel. With one last powerful suck on your clit, you try your hardest not to moan and instead whimper, releasing into his mouth. Kit licks up everything you give him and continues sucking after you’re clean.

You shakily sit up from his cock and gently get off him, standing on your shaky legs. Kit looks at you and licks his lips, earning a soft laugh out of you.

“Looks like I win”, Kit says cockily. “Can I have my treat now?”. He says thrusting up as best as he can, considering his restraints.

But quiet footsteps coming from the corridor make your eyes widen and your hands immediately straighten out your skirt. You quickly put Kit’s boner back into his underwear and cover him with his gown, giving him an apologetic look as you walk to the door. He throws his head back and sighs. You shut and lock the door behind you, trying to look as calm and regular as possible. You smile warmly at Mary Eunice right outside as she takes the medicine trolley from you and gives you a different task to do. You hesitantly agree to do what she tells you and walk out of that ward. Guilt fills your stomach as you imagine Kit tied up, not being able to help himself. You try to focus on the task at hand, sweeping the common room, and ignore the idea of Kit hot and desperate.

Your sweet spot for that man was reciprocated, and it wasn’t a secret. All the nuns and nurses knew that you were the only one who could get Kit to behave or do things he didn’t want to do. You were the only one who believed in his innocence and the only one who didn’t treat him like a criminal nor a looney. You trained to be a nurse to help people in need but instead your main job at Briarcliffe became being Kit’s nanny.

After what felt like ages, you swept up the whole common room and began cleaning it up in general. You put all the checker pieces back to the box and collected all the magazines from the room to make a pile. But your mind wasn’t on the tedious task, and instead still on the handsome brunette with a raging hard on from half an hour ago. Your legs tingled at the thought of him slurping you up, and just as you close your eyes to try to recollect the feeling, your dirty thoughts are interrupted by the door creaking open. You look over at Mary Eunice, who explains to you that Dr. Arden wishes to do some check ups on some of the patients.

“He’ll get through them all eventually, but it’d be easier for everybody if we got Kit Walker out of the way”, Mary Eunice explained, half rolling her eyes, evident in her voice that he isn’t her favorite.

“Doctor Arden called and said he’d be here in like half an hour, why don’t you go take Walker to his office? He’s less likely to bite you”. The way she talked about him made your chest burn. He was a grown man and not a child or a wild animal that only you could tame. He was a man who expected respect before he gave it back, and she wasn’t willing to give him it. You nod and shove the magazines you collected into her hands, before promptly walking out. It was clear that she wasn’t happy with your attitude, but you didn’t care. Her recent change in character wasn’t on your mind, not when you were minutes away from seeing your Kit again.

You walk to his room and unlock the door. He looks over at you with a blank expression and you force a smile. Without saying anything, you uncuff him from his bed and help him sit up. He looks at you with a puzzled expression, but you stay silent. You cuff his hands together and walk with him to Arden’s office.

When you get there, after a quiet trip, you’re surprised to see his office still locked. You simply unlock it and let yourself in, and lay Kit down on the table. Mary Eunice warned that Dr. Arden wasn’t here yet but on his way, which gave you and Kit some quality time. As you cuff his hands and ankles to the bed, you look at him apologetically. Before you have time to say anything, Kit speaks.

“Listen nurse, you heard Mary, you scrammed, I get it. We woulda got in trouble otherwise.” You smile at him and place your hand on his chest. “I’m not mad at cha, don’t worry”, Kit continued.

“Well… I’m sorry I left you hanging”. You circle your fingers on his chest for a few seconds before confidently walking towards the door and locking it from the inside. Kit looks over at you with his eyebrows furrowed and you lean close to him.

“I’ll make it up to ya”. You say, once again mocking his accent. You leave a tender kiss on his lips and he happily accepts. You waste no time and slide your hand down his chest to his pants and cup him. You run your fingers along his dick in his pants and he gasps against your lips. Excited once again, you flip his gown up and take out his hardening cock. You give him a few pumps before cupping his now swollen balls. You stroke him and squeeze him and he slowly fills the office with soft moans. The idea of Dr. Arden coming any time soon and you having to stop and leave him hanging once again fills you with dread and you jerk Kit off faster. You look at him to make sure he doesn’t feel rushed and his groans suggest he doesn’t mind your new pace.

“You gotta hurry kitten”.

Kit looks at you and tells you off, “Ain’t this my treat? Don’t rush me”. You look at Kit’s smug expression, him rubbing it in your face that you didn’t last long.

“You either cum now, or not at all”. Kit’s once confident expression softens and he looks at you with pleading eyes and whines again. You look at him sternly.

“Dr. Arden might come soon”. Kit opens his mouth to protest, “But-”, but doesn’t finish his sentence. Your eyes widen realizing the mess he might make, and you quickly bend down and wrap your wet lips around his tip and suck on him harshly. He groans and gets harder in your hand.

“Not if I cum first”, he moans.

He groans and wriggles against his restrains before releasing his load in your mouth. You continue sucking on him, his moans urging you to continue. You slide your mouth down him and start sucking him off properly. He looks down at you confused and tries to make out a coherent sentence despite your mouth working on his sensitive cock.

“But I already- oh fuck, -I already came…I can’t cum again”.

You pull your mouth off him and continue pumping him with your hand. You spit on his cock, your filthy action making Kit gasp.

“Wanna bet?”.

You bend down and suck on his balls, as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes tightly shut. After being denied an orgasm an hour ago, his first orgasm came quickly. And now with you sucking his soul out of his body before he had time to come down from his first high, Kit groans and fights against his cuffs harder and sooner. Feeling him twitch you quickly take your hands off him and take as much of him as you can into your mouth. You slide down on him and in his fight against the cuffs, he thrusts and hits the back of your throat, making him cum instantly. You resist the urge to choke and swallow everything he gives you. He slowly starts to come down from his high and you suck him a little longer, until he whimpers making you stop. You pull your mouth from around him with a satisfying pop sound and wink at him. He tries to catch his breath and looks at you tired. As you lean down to kiss his cheek, you both hear a key going in the door. You look at the door and Kit quickly thrusts and motions to his dick. Your eyes widen and you hurriedly put his now soft cock back in his underwear and pull his gown down. Dr. Arden enters the room the second you finish and only sees you run your hand down his gown straightening it out. He greets you both and walks over to his desk to find Kit’s file. Taking opportunity of him looking away, you imitate holding a clip board and whisper to Kit.

“Willingness to eat pussy?”, you look down at Kit and he smiles and mouths ‘ten out of ten’. You pretend to write it down and whisper one last thing to him, before going back to your regular job as a nurse.

“Ability to ejaculate? Ten out of ten”.

[keanureevesisbae]

sugar sugar - the planning 2.0

Summary: It’s a new year and the engaged couple are moving forward with their wedding planning.

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Smut (like vibrator(s), slight anal play, squirting, slight punishment)

Wordcount: 3.8k

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

January 6th 5 p.m.

The entirety that is left of December I’ve been a slightly emotional mess. Okay, remove slightly, because I’m an emotional mess. Period. I don’t know what caused it. Maybe it’s the fact that we have our invitations ready. Maybe it’s because Christmas spend as an engaged couple was a little overwhelming. Maybe spending New Years together in a club with my friends and my fiancé was too much of a change after spending them in pretty much solitude for many years.

So, it doesn’t surprise me at all that I have been bawling non stop for one of my final fittings for my wedding dress. It’s absolutely gorgeous. It hugs me in all the right places and I feel like such a bride in it.

When I walk into Henry’s office, I see he is alone with some paperwork. Henry looks up from his desk and smiles widely when he notices it’s me. ‘Hi sweetheart. How was the dress fitting?’

Oh goodness, there are the tears again. ‘Oh no, I’m sorry.’

He perks up in his seat, immediately alert because of the tears. ‘Was it no good?’ he asks me, ushering me over.

‘No, honey, it was amazing. The dress is so beautiful.’ I sit on his desk after he cleaned it up for me and I let out a deep sigh. ‘It’s just one step closer to becoming a bride.’

He nods with a smile. ‘It sure is. I can’t wait to marry you.’ Henry examines my face and he asks: ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

‘Yeah, I’m totally okay. It’s just that I’ve been super duper emotional these passed few weeks. It’s just me being idiotic, so please just indulge me.’

‘I don’t think it’s idiotic,’ he says. ‘But when my future wife isn’t feeling well, I might as well make sure she feels better. Is there something I can do, baby girl?’

‘It’s fine, it’s fine,’ I chuckle. ‘Just silly old me being overly emotional, so let’s forget it. On another note, how are you doing? You have a lot of work to do?’

He nods. ‘Yeah, but I can take it home with me. The walls are closing me in, so to speak.’

‘How about,’ I say, ‘you and I go have something to eat? I’m starving.’

Henry agrees to that a little too quickly. In lightening speed, he packed his suitcase and holds me hand as we walk towards the elevator. People in the company slowly began to notice that I was dating the boss and they have all been very supportive.

To our faces, but I think they mean it.

Once Henry and I got in his car, he doesn’t start it up immediately. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but he gives me a desperate kiss on my lips. ‘Are you alright?’ I ask him.

‘I just missed you a lot,’ he says. ‘Might’ve had some never ending phone calls. I’m glad to finally see you. I might be a little obsessed with you.’

I blush. ‘I’m such a lucky woman,’ I admit.

Henry now does start the car and as he drives through the busy New York streets, he asks me where I want to eat. I simply shrug, telling him he can decide. He gets this slightly smug grin on his lips, but it’s not new to me.

Ever since our little conversation, where I just called it as it is (he is pretty much a dom and I’m probably the biggest sub he’ll ever encounter), he has been actively enjoying it a lot more. Every time I say he can decide, every time I ask him to make a phone call for me, every time I ask his opinion on some clothing, it kinda feeds his ego.

Of course it’s not exactly like they describe it online, but with the way we do it, it feels so natural with him. It’s exactly the way I like it.

We stop at one of my favorite places to eat and when Henry and I walk in, the waiter seems to recognize us. He even asks us if we want the usual, which we both want. Henry and I are seated next to each other and we stare at the aquarium.

Henry has his arm wrapped around my shoulders, as he sighs deeply in content. We’re sitting pretty secluded, just the way Henry likes it. Privacy is a big deal to him and I don’t disagree with it. When my friends and I go out to the clubs he can get us into, he makes sure there is a safe spot for us to sit, lots of privacy and sometimes it comes with a bouncer, making sure no unwanted guests are joining us.

‘You’re tired,’ I note, my eyes following the clownfish that is swimming around. ‘Can I help you with something?’

‘No, no, baby, don’t you worry about me,’ he says. He presses a kiss on my forehead, before whispering in my ear: ‘Daddy’s alright, baby girl.’

My friends know about us, about me calling him daddy every now and then, but they had yet to catch us. Until a few days ago, where I forgot they were around and I mindlessly let it slip when he was preparing some breakfast for us. The audible gasp both Genevieve and Viola let out, caused me to actually wanting to die of shame and they haven’t let it go ever since.

But hearing him refer to himself as daddy, makes me forget all about that mortifying moment, and simply lets me appreciate what we have.

Henry and I enjoy our food, sip on our drinks as we share some simple stories of today. ‘What are your plans for later today?’ he asks me. ‘Or tomorrow?’

‘Not much, since the boss isn’t allowing me to “overwork” myself.’

He chuckles. ‘I heard the weather is gonna be killing tomorrow. I already told the other employees they can work from home.’

‘Oh,’ I say, ‘so, you’re staying home too?’

‘I am. I was thinking about maybe starting on our guest list?’

‘Starting?’ I ask him. ‘You probably forgot about Genevieve being involved. We already have a guest list. We can maybe go look for the perfect wedding rings. Oh my, we could do that.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ He takes my hand in his, admiring the engagement ring. ‘We could go for something similar to each other, but yours much more dainty.’

‘You checked rings already?’

‘I might’ve,’ he admits. ‘Just want the best for you.’

‘I love you,’ I whisper, as my heart swells with love and adoration. ‘I love you so much.’

February 14th 9 p.m.

It’s that time again. It’s that time where Henry decided to use the vibrator again with remote control. The catch this time? We’re not in our penthouse, not at his office totally shut off for other people to come in. We’re at a restaurant celebrating my birthday.

He does this from time to time, simply because he seems to enjoy me suffering, however this is the first time we’re actually in public. We’re sitting next to one another, staring over the city at night, as my leg is moving up and down nervously. The vibrations come and go and each time I’m so close, he must sense it, because he turns it off completely.

‘Baby girl,’ he says in a dangerous tone, ‘careful with your lips, now. Don’t chew on them.’

I let out a sigh, followed by a pout. ‘You’re torturing me,’ I whimper.

Almost like he was waiting on me admitting it, because the vibrations slowly come back to life. ‘I am?’

I nod. ‘Please, let’s just get out of here. I already finished my dessert.’

‘But I haven’t.’ He leans back and takes a sip of his drink. ‘Have I told you you look absolutely stunning tonight?’

I look down my silver dress, that is pretty flashy, but in this restaurant everyone looks showy here. Compared to them, I look pretty modest. ‘Yes, you did,’ I say.

Henry gently leans down, giving me a kiss on my forehead. ‘I love you, you’re doing so well.’ I receive another kiss on the tip of my nose and he descends to my lips.

I whimper against him, as I push my legs together, desperate for some friction, some touch. Anything. ‘Daddy,’ I mumble against his lips.

‘You want to go home, baby?’

‘Yes, please.’

He smiles. ‘Okay, let me help you in your coat,’ he says, finally taking a bit of pity on me. ‘Baby girl, you’re doing so well.’

I stand up on wobbly legs and he helps me in my coat. I zip it up and the two of us walk out of this place. Henry holds my purse in his hand, while the other is securely placed on the small of my back. He tells the limo chauffeur to drive towards home and we get in the back.

As the limo starts to drive, Henry unzips my coat and smiles. ‘Let’s take this all off.’

‘All of it? I can’t. I have to get from the limo back to the apartment, remember?’

‘That is why you’re wearing a longer coat, baby girl,’ he retorts. ‘Take it off.’

I do as he tells me to. I take off the coat, before I push the straps of my dress down. Since this isn’t a dress that requires a bra, I’m left in nothing but my flimsy thongs. He orders me to give them to him and like usual, they end up in his pocket. He actually takes the damn time to neatly fold my dress so he can put it in my purse.

Besides my heels, I’m totally naked in the back of the limo. I think it’s good that Henry owns this limo and pays this driver a lot of money. I wonder if the driver knows what is up—especially since this isn’t the first time we’ve had some sexual escapades in the back—but there isn’t a lot of time to think about it, as Henry pulls me on his lap. His lips wrap around my hardened nipple, his teeth softly sinking into it. He turns on the vibrator, as his bulge pressing against my clit. His hands are kneading the flesh of my behind. It’s so messy. We’re so messy, but that is what I love about him. No matter how dirty it gets, he always wants more. More of me. More of us.

He spreads my asscheeks apart, before on of his fingers gently touches my puckered hole, before letting it slip passed the tight muscle. ‘One day,’ he whispers, ‘it’ll be a lot more than just my finger, baby.’

The moan that’s caused because of all that, is a lot louder than I originally intended and he gives me a firm and loud smack on my behind.

The driver definitely knows now what we’re doing.

‘Quiet, baby girl,’ he grunts, ‘otherwise this pretty ass of yours is gonna be very red and very painful for you to sit on.’

I nod, as I resit on his lap a little, causing the vibrator to shift a bit and it hits the exact right spot. Keeping it quiet is nearly impossible, especially because he has been teasing me the entire night. His hand lands on my ass again and again and again. ‘What did I just say?’

‘Sorry, daddy, it’s just that… I’m so close.’ I am already clenching around the toy and Henry kisses me to stop me from making to much noise. It’s barely working, as I ride out my high on his lap. He turns off the vibrator with a smile and his finger exits from my tight hole. He helps me in my coat and says: ‘I believe we’re almost home.’

With nothing but a very short coat on and the vibrator still buried deep inside of me, the two of us get out of the limo. I avoid eye contact with the driver, who despite his own best efforts,  can’t hide the fact that he knows exactly what happened back there. After Henry gave him a ridiculously large tip, we walk towards the entrance of our building. It’s freezing cold and it’s not helping that the insides of my thighs are still a bit wet.

We step into the elevator and Henry stands behind me, his hand on my side, as a group of business men and women also step in. They are loud, meaning that Henry could easily turn on the vibrator and no one would notice.

Great minds must think alike, because he turns it on. I somehow manage to keep it sort of together, but it’s hard, especially with the way I feel my hardened nipples rub against the inside of my coat and Henry’s noticeable bulge pressed against my butt.

The carpet all of the sudden has all my attention.

The group steps off on the second floor and that leaves just the two of us. Henry steps in front of me, blocking the entrance as his hands slips underneath the hem of the coat. He pats my bare bottom a few times. ‘Good girl,’ he whispers.

‘Daddy,’ I whimper, ‘I’m close again.’

‘You better hold it.’

With the vibrator still on, I manage to wobble to the door of our apartment. The second the door closes, Henry nearly rips off my coat and cages me in between his arms and the wall. ‘Fuck, how did I get so lucky? You did well, baby girl. Daddy is so proud of you.’

‘Please,’ I beg, nearly in tears, ‘can I cum now?’

He gives me a soft peck on my lips, a sweet gesture compared to what he has been doing all night. ‘Of course.’

My legs start to shake, as I wrap my arms around his neck to keep me standing up. My eyes roll back, as the familiar feeling washes over me. ‘Oh daddy,’ I moan out, as I feel my juices squirt passed the vibrating egg, down my legs onto the floor. It’s all becoming too much, so I reach down to grab the string and pull it out.

As I’m panting, Henry seizes my wrist. ‘What did you do?’ he asks, turning the vibrator off. ‘Tell me, what did you do?’

Oh shit, I think something bad. ‘I couldn’t take it anymore, daddy.’

‘Then why didn’t you safe word?’

Why didn’t I? ‘I don’t know,’ I say, but when he cocks his eyebrow, I realize that won’t do. ‘It wasn’t necessary.’

He tsks, a sound he barely makes. ‘I’m disappointed in you, baby girl.’ He drags me with him to the bedroom and pushes me on the bed. Not gonna lie, this is turning me on way more than I originally expected. He holds my chin in between his fingers, as he forces me to look up. ‘If you don’t like something anymore,’ he says in a dangerously low tone, ‘then you safe word. But never ever take matters into your own hands like that.’

Fuck, this alone nearly causes my next orgasm. ‘I’m sorry, daddy.’

‘You’re damn right you’re sorry.’ He unbuttons his shirt, revealing his broad chest that over the course of the last few weeks only got broader and stronger. ‘And I’m gonna teach you a little lesson, baby girl.’

✤ ✤ ✤

After I don’t know how many orgasms with the vibrators (yes, plural), he turns them both off as I try to catch my breath. Him plunging my beloved vibrator deep inside of me. Him pressing the other one onto my super sensitive clit. He was torturing me, making me cum over and over and over again. Trying to teach me a lesson. The wet covers of the bed are the evidence of how many times I already came. He was slightly pissed at me, but also continued to whisper that I could safe word whenever I needed to.

Henry sits in between my legs and without much teasing or preparation enters me, burying himself deep inside of me. A gasp escapes my lips, as his girth is a world apart from the vibrator. He pushes his heavy chest onto mine, grabbing my hands and holding them with just one of his above my head.

Henry has never done such thing. Never took he this much control, never was he like this. But then again, never did I do something that would disappoint him. His lips are dangerously close and he says: ‘Tell me baby girl, whose pussy is this?’

What a question, but I know the answer. ‘Yours,’ I whisper. ‘Daddy, I’m so sorry.’

‘If you can’t take it anymore,’ he continues, ‘now or in the future, then you safe word. Promise me that.’

‘Yes, yes, yes, I promise.’

Henry gives me a kiss. It’s such a gentle move after the insane orgasm overstimulation act he just preformed on me. The throbbing pain is overruled by the sheer pleasure I feel of his thick length deep inside of me. ‘Are you gonna be a good girl for daddy?’

‘I will, I will. Always.’

His thrusts are slow, allowing me to take him all in and get used to his length. With every thrust, he brushes against my extremely sensitive clit, earning him soft whimper like moans. His lips press attentive kisses on my lips. ‘Good girl,’ he praises me, ‘such a good girl.’

My mind is so cloudy and foggy, but his lovely words still make an impact. ‘I love you.’

Henry smiles. ‘I love you too, baby girl. Fuck, I love you so much.’

He slowly speeds up his thrusts, only for him to become a lot rougher too. The room is filled with indecent and vulgar sounds, but that doesn’t stop him. No, it even encourages him more. Henry doesn’t stop, not even as I turn into a crying and sobbing mess underneath him.

I know what to do when it gets too much and while it definitely feels like too much, I love how he uses me like this. He is the only one that I’ll ever allow to do this. He is the only one who can have this much control over me.

My legs start to quiver and I don’t even have to tell him that I’m close. My vision turns completely white for a few moments, as I cry out. ‘Fuck!’

‘I know baby, I know. I’m close.’ The sound he makes as he bottoms out, painting me from the inside, is probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. He crashes on top of me, making sure he doesn’t crush me under his weight. ‘You did well,’ he says with a proud smile. ‘Are you okay? I was’t too rough on you, was I?’

I try to catch my breath, but I shake my head. ‘No, no, you weren’t. Don’t you worry. I’m so sorry,’ I sniffle.

He pushes some hairs out of my face and gives me a kiss. ‘It’s okay.’

‘You’re not mad at me?’ I place my hand in the back of his neck. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘Baby, baby, baby,’ he says, ‘I know you didn’t. Just know that whenever you don’t feel good, it’s becoming too much for you, you safe word. I need you to safe word, baby. Do it for daddy, okay?’

‘Of course, I will,’ I say, swallowing hard. ‘You’re really not mad at me?’

‘Hey, hey, it’s all good,’ he says. ‘I’m not mad at you, never was. Stop worrying about it, okay? Please, baby girl.’

‘I just love you a lot and I hate to disappoint you.’

‘I know you do,’ he says with a smile. ‘I love you a lot as well. And because I’m your boss, I’m willing to give you a day off tomorrow.’

I start to laugh. ‘Oh, how gracious of you.’

‘Want a bath, darling? Or you want to go to the sauna?’

‘Maybe a sauna is nice, and a bath afterwards?’

Henry nods and pulls out, causing me to slightly shiver on the bed. ‘Sit still, okay? I’ll be right out.’

As I am relaxing on the bed, regaining some strength in my legs, Henry walks around, preparing the sauna and I hear he is actually turning on the jacuzzi as well for after the sauna. He carries me out of the bed and whispers he’ll clean the bed later on. He sits on one of the wooden benches, tucking me securely on his lap. I was already sweaty, but despite that, it’s nice to be hugged by the warm air provided by the sauna. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, giving him a kiss in his neck.

His fingertips run up and down my spine. ‘Baby girl, can you tell me why you didn’t safe word?’

‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.

‘You didn’t feel safe enough to do it?’

‘It kinda slipped my mind.’

Henry nods, pressing his lips on my hair line. ‘I only want what’s best for you,’ he says. ‘And if you’re overwhelmed, tell me, okay?’

I nod. ‘I will. I promise.’

✤ ✤ ✤

It’s late by the time the two of us get in bed. Since it’s winter after all, I dressed myself in one of his long sleeved shirts, while my personal heater is in nothing but some boxers. I place my head on his chest and his hand finds mine. He holds my fingers, as his thumb runs over the engagement ring.

‘Honey,’ I say, ‘want to hear about a dream I had the other day?’

‘Always.’

‘I dreamed about having kids last night with you.’

‘Really?’ he asks me. ‘Color me intrigued. What happened in that dream?’

‘Nothing much. Just you and me sitting on a porch, looking over the yard and seeing our kids run around, maybe even a dog.’

‘I keep thinking about that as well,’ he chuckles. ‘The whole idea of having kids with you makes me realize how fortunate I am that you’re gonna be my wife. When do you want to start trying?’

‘Maybe a few months after our wedding? I know that I probably won’t get pregnant straight away after I stopped taking the pill, but I’d like to enjoy a few more months of you and I as a married couple.’

He nods. ‘I agree. It’s just that I can’t wait for you and I to start a family. To spoil you and the children rotten.’

‘But we still have to keep them humble,’ I say. ‘I’m serious, Henry.’

‘Of course, of course,’ he quickly says. ‘They should never take anything for granted.’

I close my eyes, placing my leg over his. ‘Do you think we should move places?’

He nods. ‘Totally, because I want to make that dream of yours come true. I want a yard, so we can build treehouses, have toys scattered all around and what not.’

I smile. It’s like he is reading my mind. ‘When are we gonna start looking for a place?’

‘After the wedding?’ he suggests.

I nod. ‘After the wedding.’

[1tsnoya]

✧･ﾟpractice makes perfect✧･ﾟoneshot

“Hi can I request a nishinoya one shot where the mc is giving him head in the locker rooms when there down practicing ,pls and thank you”

this is so hot omg UR MIND

edit: i didn’t proofread lol i hope this is okay!!

warning: nsfw pairing: noya x reader

“are you sure they’ll be okay with it?”

“yes! they’ll love you i promise”

your boyfriend, yuu nishinoya, was the school’s volleyball team’s libero. karasuno’s #4. and earlier on in the week he had begged you to come to one of his practices.

you were hesitant at first because u weren’t sure how his teammates would react but you finally gave in. noya was super duper excited. his eyes were sparkling as the two of you held hands walking to the gym. you were nervous, even though your boyfriend assured u that u had no reason to be. noya always talked to you about his practices and how much he loved his teammates, you just didn’t want to screw this up for him.

your right hand unintertwined with the libero’s left and the gym doors opened to reveal the people who noya had talked so much about.

“guys!! this is (y/n)!!” your boyfriend had so much excitement in the tone of his voice.

everyone turned around and smiled. one by one they introduced themselves. you kind of already had an idea of who they were.

“okay today is going to be pretty simple...” the captain, daichi, #1, explained the plans for practice, “(y/n) are you gonna stay and watch?”

he was really friendly, just like how noya described, “yup!” you nodded your head and smiled. noya’s teammates already knew that he was going to try extra hard today for you.

he definitely did. without a doubt. he even ended up hurting himself in the process. once u saw him hesitate to get back up from the floor, you rushed down from the bleachers. blood was trickling down his arm like a faucet, it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t good.

his teammates surrounded him as he assured them that he was good, “i have some stuff in the lockerrooms for this. i’ll go right now” noya got up from the ground, his left hand holding his right arm, exactly where the cut was, “you guys can continue i’ll be fine!”

daichi, suga, and tanaka kept asking him “are u sure u don’t need help?” they knew how the libero tended to overwork himself

you poked ur head into their conversation, “don’t worry, i’ll go help him out”

they nodded their heads as u left to head to the locker rooms with your boyfriend. there was a comfortable silence between you two as u walked down.

you helped the boy wash his cut and wrap it up with a bandage, his face was a little pink, “thank you. ur the best”

“it’s nothing really. you know that i’ll always help you when ur hurt”

“i know..and i really like that u do that for me! i appreciate you.”

he took his hand and cupped your cheek to kiss you. you couldn’t resist, you loved how soft he kissed you. he moved your body against the lockers and deepened the kiss.

you also loved how noya could switch gears super quick, going from soft kisses to rough and passionate ones. and that’s exactly what he did.

he tugged at your hair and bit your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but breathe out and make the kisses more extreme. you tugged at the waistband of his black shorts, the pair that he was practicing with not too long ago. as soon as you did this, he made a soft noise into your mouth. you knew exactly what to do to pleasure the boy.

it certainly wasn’t the time or place but, you were just so in the moment. plus, everybody did think that you were helping him with his arm. this gave you enough time to fool around.

you switched the positions of your bodies so that his back was now against the lockers. once you achieved that, you broke the kiss and caught ur breath. then you started to move down and get on your knees

he pulled his cock out and his hands were already running through ur hair. you took him in and he was already groaning, “fuck” he muttered under his breath. he didn’t want to be too loud or else you’d be caught, and how embarrassing would that be...

the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat and u heard him move his head back into the lockers. you stopped for a second to see how red noya’s face already was. he noticed and his eyes met yours, and the expression on his face changed to a slick smirk. without warning, you resumed doing what u were, ur pace a little quicker than usual. you knew how to drive him crazy, moving from slow to quick and back to slow. you swirled your tongue around his tip, “y-you’re so hot” he tugged at ur hair while his face was burning up.

you sucked the boy’s cock just like he liked it. and times were very rare where u had this chance. he usually likes giving, not receiving. but when he does receive, he loses it.

you pulled off his cock with a pop and he whimpered a little, “fuuck!” he groaned a little louder

his eyes were hazy and his face was flushed, you knew he was getting closer. you took all of his dick back in your mouth again, setting a passionate pace. he was groaning more and more, holy shit this just egged you on. even though u knew he was going to cum, your pace was quick again, “baby, i’m gonna cum” his head was thrown back against the lockers but just as he said this, he looked at u again, admiring how beautiful u were with his cock in your mouth. you made a tiny nod to him and blinked with your long eyelashes, “you’re so beautiful”

once you knew that it was about time, u put a tiny amount of pressure with your teeth at his tip. he whimpered out and was cumming into your mouth. but while he was moaning out, you heard a knock at the door.

“noya! (y/n)! are u guys okay?” you recognized the voice, hinata, karasuno’s #10.

“yea-yeah! we’ll be um..” the libero looked back down at you while you licked your lips.

“we’ll be right out!” you said in a cheery tone. you looked back at your boyfriend, he was flushed and hazy. you prided yourself on making him look like this. you stood up as noya put his black shorts back on. he looked at u with so much admiration, “i’ll thank you later” he whispered in a teasing voice, despite that he was the one whimpering a few minutes ago. your face turned pink at the thought of this.

you walked back hand in hand to the gym, his teammates looked at the both of you

“finally, you’re back” tsukishima said. he walked past your boyfriend and nudged a little to his arm. thank god, nobody noticed tsuki’s slick comment. your faces turned red and u turned back around to walk back to the bleachers.

you could barely sit still thinking about what would happen after practice.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

You've probably seen me and my asks/reposts/reblogs a few times and if not I mean- Anyways! I'm craving some BAMF! John content bc who wouldn't want that in their life? Also- I really love all that you do for the fandom and your followers. (I was an old Nonny who spoke about being asexual. I was wrong and I mean it happens-) But yeah you are super duper amazing and I hope one day I can do the same for others

Hey Lovely! <3

Aww, it’s okay to change your labels when figure out who you are (I certainly have)! I have a lot of asks from ace nonnies, so I’m not sure which one is yours, hahah. That said, don’t feel bad for identifying as one thing until recently... it’s normal. <3

Ah, yes, we all love a badass mother-fuckin’ John!! I’ve only done one list related to it, so I’ll link to it below :) As always, I encourage everyone to add their own fics to the list below!

Thank you for your kind words, and I hope you enjoy what I’ve got for you! <3

BAMF and/or SOLDIER JOHN

See also: BAMF! But Insecure John

Idiot by Anesthesiologist (T, 1,229 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, TGG AU, BAMF John, Sherlock Whump, Inner Monologue, John Saves Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – What the heck happened? He remembered the pool and Moriarty, but then what? Had he been dying?

Shooter by Amputation (K+, 1,406 w. || Post-TRF, Suspense, BAMF!John) – The men were trying to rile the other into acting first, it seemed. How boringly predictable and dull this was!

The 3x John Carried Sherlock, and Once ViceVersa by ShinkonoKokoro (K+, 1,673 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Friendship, Three and One, BAMF John, Sherlock Whump, Worried Sherlock, John Gets Shot) – It happens more than he suspects.

In Which John is a BAMFy MoFo, OMG! by Kantayra (T, 1,835 w., 1 Ch. || Humour) – John's BAMFness and Sherlock's damsel-in-distress act are caught forever on camera. So Scotland Yard can mock. A lot.

Coming Full Circle by KCS (K+, 2,358 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate TGG, Friendship, Drama, Violence/Death References, Drugging/Poisoning, Kidnapping, BAMF John, Moriarty POV, Introspection) – Moriarty had John for almost six hours between his abduction and the showdown at the pool - more than enough time to implement a Plan B for his escape should Sherlock call his bluff with the fake bomb vest.

Butterfly, Pinned Under Glass by billiethepoet (E, 4,648 w., 1 Ch. || Possessive Sherlock, Jealousy, Barebacking, BAMF!John) – It started as a desire to keep John safe and whole, and ended up as just desire.

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, POV John, Embarrassed John, Adorable Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you're coiled like a spring and ready to be ... sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don't mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

I'm Pretty Sure This Changes Shit by cwb (E, 7,672 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Cudding, Doctor/Patient, Accidents, Pining Sherlock, Blow Jobs, Oral / Anal, BAMF John, Minor Injuries, Dev. Rel.) – Sherlock finds increasingly ridiculous ways to get John to patch him up after hurting himself.

Every Night I Look for You by destinationtoast (E, 8,377 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Post-TRF, Angst, Mystery, Unsafe Sex, BAMF John) – Every night, John looks for familiar hints of Sherlock in the men he meets in bars, and he does with them all the things he wishes he’d done before. Eventually, he stumbles into a situation that Sherlock would know how to handle, and John must decide whether he can handle it without him.

Made for You by Raxicoricofallapatorious (K, 8,440 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Sci-Fi, Androids) – When John was shot in the shoulder he was decommissioned and his memory and personality was wiped. Sherlock was given the blank droid and he quickly learns that this droid is more than it seems. John just so happened to come back and no one can fathom how or why. Johnlock if you squint.

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w., 1 Ch. || BAMF John, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Dating, Bisexuality, Arguing, Stupidity, Teasing, First Kiss/Time, Hand Jobs, Frottage, RST, Idiots in Love) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock's, and Sherlock can't figure out why he's so incensed about it.

Stay Awake by pandoras_chaos (E, 9,325 w., 1 Ch. || BAMF!John, First Time, Angst, Pining Sherlock, Rimming, Oral/Anal) – Sherlock can feel the tenuous threads of this conversation shuddering under the strain of all the unspoken words. His eyes narrow as he gazes up at John, noting the residual tension in his shoulders, the dark circles under his lower lids, and the way he is avoiding Sherlock’s eyes like a bi-polarized magnet. He knows John Watson inside and out, like the perfectly balanced coils and gears of a beautifully balanced grandfather clock, and yet John keeps surprising him. It’s uncanny, the way he keeps on being so utterly and wonderfully unpredictable.

John Watson’s Moon by patternofdefiance (E, 11,314 w., 1 Ch. || Werewolf John, First Time, BAMF John, First Time, Anal, Fleeting Depictions of Violence) – Sherlock finds out John is a werewolf and wants to see the transformation. It, uh, gets really kinky.

The Red Dianthus by kinklock (T, 11,382 w., 3 Ch. || Supernatural Elements, BAMF!John, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Romance, Halloween, Dev. Rel., Case Fic) – The boys investigate a mysterious disappearance in a supposedly haunted house, and get much more than they bargained for.

The Hand You're Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 12,092 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Light Violence, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury, Friendship) – Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working.

Fear Itself by KCS (K+, 12,289 w., 3 Ch. || Suspense, Friendship) – John is accustomed to being kidnapped by now, but he never expected a criminal to adopt Mycroft's method of doing so, to ensure he comes along without a fight.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

The Acronym by DancingGrimm (T, 15,057 w. || Humour) – "'Bee Ay Em Eff'. Hm, that's a new one on me. Do you know what it means, Sherlock?" John might not know what it means, but there are many little ways in which he proves the acronym suits him.

I Will Take Care Of You by SailorChibi (T, 16,664 w., 15 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Sherlock, BAMF John, BAMF Lestrade, Reunion Fic) – Two years after Sherlock's death, John comes to find him on the sofa. Wounded and ill, Sherlock is convinced he's hallucinating and refuses to share any details about Moran or the fact that Mycroft has been compromised. That doesn't stop John from stepping up and taking care of the last of Moriarty's web, BAMF-style.

Hope for Heroes by Richefic (K+, 16,887 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TGG Fic, Introspection / Flashbacks, Friendship/Epic Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Sherlock Admires John, BAMF John, John Deduces, Fancy Party, John’s Self Esteem, Domestics) – In the final moments of "The Great Game" Holmes hopes he will have the chance to tell his flatmate that he was wrong. Heroes do exist after all and the one in front of him is called Dr John Watson.

Traitor's Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he'll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It's up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

5 Times John Got the Girl (and lost her) and 1 Time John Got the Guy (and kept him) by LiviKate (M, 21,695 w., 6 Ch. || 5 and Ones, Kissing, Oblivious / Awkward Sherlock, BAMF / Sexy / Stud John, Embarrassed John, John’s Scar, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock) – John has always had good luck with the ladies. He's charming, friendly and funny, not to mention great in bed. However, his usual skill with the opposite sex is constantly being thwarted by Sherlock and his outbursts. How will John ever get a leg over when Sherlock is always cockblocking him?

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w., 4 Ch. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Mastrubation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock's case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he's pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

Invisible by chappysmom (K+, 25,947 w., 11 Ch. || No Slash, semi-canon compliant) – John had had the knack for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t that he could become invisible, exactly. The laws of physics worked quite well in his vicinity, thank you very much. It was just that people tended … not to see him. {{This was one of the first AU’s I read, and I still love it to this day}}. SEQUELS: Still Invisible (ASiB) || Too Visible (THoB) || Invisible Once More (TRF)

And A Doctor by StillWaters1 (T, 27,393 w., 6 Ch. || Friendship, Doctor John, Whump, Soldier / Doctor Dichotomy, Five and One) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn't just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That "doctor" actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

To Mend Icarus by AlessNox (T, 29,186 w., 14 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship, Drama, BAMF!John, Emotional Turmoil, Introspection, Harry is in this Fic, Angry John, Happy Ending, Queerplatonic Relationship) – After a case lands John Watson in court, he tells Sherlock that he is leaving. Not understanding why, Sherlock decides that the only way to learn the truth is to investigate his flatmate, Dr. John Watson. A revision of the story Mending Icarus.

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,689 w., 8 Ch. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Beach Holidays, Confused Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w., 20 Ch. || Alternating POV, Molly/  John [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon...or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn't know what Molly's up to...but he knows he doesn't like it.

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn't It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w., 4 Ch. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock's forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don't worry, things'll be fine in just seven days.

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror (E, 42,031 w., 4 Ch. ||  H/C, Injury, Slow Burn) – When John's left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she's about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways, Needy Sherlock, Wings) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

Left by lifeonmars (M, 45,153 w., 9 Ch. || Magical Realism, BAMF!John, Slow Burn) – John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of SpaceBois go to Space

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock, BAMF John) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

Watches 'Verse by bendingsignpost (E, 66,905 w. across 2 works || Magical Realism, Reality Distortion, Angst, Partial MCD, BAMF John) – First, he is shot in Afghanistan. Second, he wakes to a phone call in Chelmsford, Essex. Third is pain, fourth is normalcy, fifth is agony and sixth is confusion. By the eighth, he's lost track. (John-centric AU) Part 1 of Watches 'Verse

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

The Green Blade by verityburns (T, 72,929 w., 15 Ch. || Casefic, Bromance) – As a serial killer hits the headlines, the police are out of their depth and the next victim is out of time. With faith in Sherlock Holmes at an all time low, this is a case which will push loyalties to the limit...

Darkling, I Listen by You_Light_The_Sky (T, 73,254 w., 8 Ch. || Fairy Tale AU || Loosely Based on Beauty and the Beast, Magical Realism, Suicidal Themes, Romance, Creepiness, Adventure) – No one who enters old London ever comes out. They say that the beast devours them. When his sister disappears, John ventures into the dead zone beyond the wall, and finds a brilliant madman under a terrible curse... Part 1 of Darkling I Listen + Extras, Deleted Scenes

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he's kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 97,884 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w., 71 Ch. || Future AU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller, Switchlock, Rimming, Emotional Lovemaking, Lots of Sex, HJ/BJ’s) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w., 34 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE, WiP || Established Relationship, Major Character Injury, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis/Disabilities, Hurt/Comfort, POV Sherlock, Mental Health Issues, Drug Use, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it's supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.