#trans mission radio

[lieutnt]

trans!soap going on a mission with the reader who keeps praising him (good boy, nice work, well done, etc) and he gets so needy that he ends up begging to be fucked afterwards? 👀

radio waves

Trans!John “Soap” MacTavish x Male Reader Warnings: NSFW, I didn’t intend for this to get this long, mentions of reader & Soap killing people, teasing, praise kink, brief fingering, fucking. Note: I did try and proofread this but I’m tired and wanted to get this out, so let me know if anything doesn’t make sense!

It’s a dangerous game sending you and Soap out on missions alone together - you’re efficient, reliable, a rock solid team, if what you spout to one another over the comm channel is ignored.

After a mission where Gaz accompanied the two of you he swore never again, stating it was like “third wheeling on the world’s most fucked up date.” Price turns a blind eye to it, you got results and always returned with only minor injuries, that was enough justification to keep sending you out together.

This time it was a simple clear and sweep, you were perched up high on overwatch, firmly tucked behind your sniper scope, taking care of any stragglers and making sure no one snuck up behind Soap as he moved from building to building, taking out enemy combatants as he came across them.

He lived up to his call sign, clearing each building easily, putting on a masterclass of all his abilities. You watched as he stepped out of a door, pausing to lift his hand to his radio, and his voice soon filtered through. “All clear, moving to the next one.”

You clicked yours on in time for Soap to hear your acknowledging hum, “Nice work Johnny.” Your praise did something to him, a faint shiver rattling down his spine. He concealed it well, body barely shifting on its spot as he felt arousal stirring in the pit of his gut. 

He murmured a quick “Thanks,” before he was off again, this time crossing the run down street to another building, until your voice broke through the temporary silence.

“Two coming up ahead of you Soap. I’ll take left, you take right.” You watched as he ducked behind some nearby cover, radio clicking to life once he was settled.

“Copy.” It was quick, quiet, all the confirmation you needed.

“On my count. 3… 2… 1… now.” With a simple pull of the trigger you watched as both bodies dropped simultaneously, waiting for a few seconds to make sure nobody heard. When only silence remained you spoke again, “Good boy.”

Soap’s face begins to heat up, a warmth spreading throughout his entire body at your words, and he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose. He doesn’t respond this time, waiting for you to clear him to move again.

He ducks into another building, the last one, and just as effectively as the previous ones he’s stepping out a few minutes later, speaking into his radio. “All clear, heading back to the hideout.” Adrenaline and arousal mixed to create a fucked up cocktail in his gut, and Soap was soaked between his thighs.

“Copy. Nice work Soap, heading back as well. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He struggled to contain the whine in the back of his throat, a few minutes was too long, his feet carrying him faster than needed back to relative safety. 

He arrived first, calling for exfil before placing his weapons down as he impatiently waited for you. He paced, too amped up to sit still, his mind wandering at your praise.

His fingers unconsciously drifted down his chest and down his pants, breathy moans slipping from his mouth as he teased his folds, already too far to resist the temptation to not go any further. He pushed two fingers inside, cunt slick enough to easily accept them. His hips bucked as he curled them, desperately seeking friction, but they weren’t enough, he still felt empty, needed your voice purring honeyed words in his ears.

Just as he was contemplating slipping a third one inside your voice came through on his nearby radio. “Approaching now Johnny.”

He withdrew his fingers, hastily wiping them on his shirt, and you’d barely shut the door before Soap was on you, crowding you against it. “You bastard, you were doing it on purpose weren’t you?”

You blinked at him, confusion settling in your eyes. “Doing what?”

“Everything you were saying, trying to get under my skin.” His breathing had picked up, his face flush, and he was standing so close you could feel him pressing against your bulky tac vest.

Reality hit you, and Soap exhaled as you leaned your sniper up against the wall and raised your hand to cup his cheek, Soap already nuzzling into the contact. “Is that it? A few words got you all worked up?”

He nods, peering at you with blue eyes almost swallowed by his blown pupils. “Need you to fuck me.”

“How far out is exfil?” You questioned, the rational part of your brain fighting against your desire to turn him around and bend him over.

It took Soap a few moments to think, brain struggling to come up with a response other than ‘it doesn’t matter.’ “We have to leave in 30 minutes.”

You tsked, thumb swiping across his bottom lip and pulling it down. “I don’t think that’s enough time baby.” With how worked up he was you doubted Soap would be happy with just once or twice, always wanting more when he gets this desperate, and if you showed up to exfil late, with a Soap who could barely stand, you doubt Price would be happy with either of you.

He shakes his head, eyes glossy and wide, pleading. “I can’t wait, I need you to fuck me.” He takes your hand by the wrist, pulling it down until it’s in his pants and you’re cupping his cunt through his boxers, able to feel the large damp spot that’s formed. His breathy sigh makes your cock twitch, and you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

Bastard has you wrapped around his finger.

He moans when you press your fingers against his clothed pussy, forehead falling to rest against you. “You that desperate? Need me to fuck you?”

Soap nods this time, mouth parting in a gasp when you move your hand under the final layer of his boxers, fingers  ghosting against his puffy  clit as they travel down until you sink two inside. “So wet for me already Johnny.”

He whines against you, hips trying to roll with your  movements as you slowly pull your fingers out, just to push them back in at the same pace. “Please, please, need your cock.”

You’re already short on time, that deadline gradually creeping up on you, so in one final motion you make a show of withdrawing your fingers and placing them in your mouth, suckling his arousal off them only to hear Soap swallowing heavily, his hands tightening in their grip on your arms. Once they’re sufficiently clean you pop them out of your mouth and place your hands on Soap’s hips, walking him backwards to the nearest flat surface. 

Spinning him around you push at his back until his top half is lying flat, wasting little time in pulling his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh. You groan at what you see, his pussy and inner thighs shining, and Soap whimpers when you use your thumb to spread him open, watching as his hole clenches around nothing. 

His breath hitches when he hears the clanking of your belt unbuckling, and you take the time to spit on your hand and give your hard cock a few pumps, spreading the makeshift lube over your shaft. With one hand on the small of his back you hold Soap in place, stopping his attempts to slam back against you as soon as he feels your cock against his folds. 

Gradually you push forward, groaning in sync with each other as his cunt parts for your cock, gummy walls sucking you in. Inch by inch you push inside, all movement coming to a stop when you bottom out, Soap’s tight heat pulsing around you as he starts to fight against your hold, impatience resurfacing. “Please move,” he begs, body moving in search of any friction.

One hand smooths through his mohawk, attempting to steady him. “I will baby, just be patient.” Slowly you pull your hips back, withdrawing until just your head is inside and then pushing forward, Soap keening as his pussy stretches around you. “That’s it, good boy.” 

He moans, back arching as he falls onto his forearms, attempting to support himself. You lean over him as best you can in your bulky gear, pressing yourself into his back so you can kiss at his neck, purring praises into his ear. “Always feel so good around me Johnny, shit.” You start to pick up your pace once he’s adjusted, the room filling with the sounds of wet smacking as your skin connects with his.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he chants, pussy clenching around you at feeling so full, feeling you press deep inside with each thrust. Soap lets out a wail of pleasure as you adjust your stance, pushing yourself up slightly to plant your hands either side of his head, hips snapping into his roughly, the new angle letting you fuck into him harsher, deeper.

“Christ Johnny, got me feeling close already.” Your orgasm was approaching faster than usual, maybe praising Soap had more of an effect on you than you thought.

He vigorously nods, words tumbling out quick, stuttered. “M-me too, clo… close.” The fire in his belly is fully ablaze, threatening to explode any second, and when you reach around with one hand, rubbing tight circles on his clit, his legs almost give out underneath him.

“Doin’ so good for me Johnny, always so good, so perfect.” You mindlessly babble, taking full advantage of the effects your words have on him.

Soap cums with a hoarse cry, your cock bullying the bundle of nerves inside enough to tip him over the edge. A burst of slick gushes out around your cock, splashing against your thighs as his body trembles, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins. The rhythmic tensing of his cunt is almost enough to pull you over the edge as well, your thrusts growing sloppy and frantic as you chase your high. You have just enough awareness to remind yourself to not cum inside.

Soap becomes painfully aware of how empty he feels as you hastily pull out, furiously pumping your cock with your hand until you’re cresting the edge, cumming over his lower back and painting his skin with ropes of white. He whines in place, still attempting to rock back against you as your cock twitches, milking yourself dry above him. “Fuck, fuck, I’ll cum in you next time, I promise,” you groan, tugging yourself into near overstimulation as you empty your balls.

He turns his head, eyes blown and filled with confusion. As the waves of pleasure wash away you see him looking at you for an explanation - Soap prefers it when you cum inside, you do too, but with little time left until exfil and a lengthy flight ahead of you, you’d rather face his complaints now then when you’re stuck on a plane and he can feel your cum slowly trickling out between his legs, unable to do anything about it.

You explain as such to him, and despite Soap knowing you’re right he still finds himself disappointed, remaining in place as you tuck yourself back in and clean away the cum with a wipe you had tucked away, it wasn’t its intended purpose but it’ll do. Pulling down his shirt Soap leans back up, groaning in discomfort as his body feels the strain of being stuck in one position for so long. He redresses as well, straightening his clothes out and making himself look as if he hasn’t just been fucked during a mission.

The high of adrenaline and his orgasm fizzles away, and you find yourself drifting towards him. He turns to face you, eyes soft and you lean in, capturing his lips in a much gentler kiss, this one slow, calm, one filled with the unsaid ‘I’m glad you’re ok.’

You’d rather do anything else than pull away, but with those 30 minutes almost up you do, breaking the kiss and trying your best to ignore the whine of discontent Soap emits. Lightly chuckling, you press one more kiss against his lips, “We can continue when we get back to base.”

Soap sighs, a teasing smile appearing across his mouth. “I’ll hold you to that.”

[cleverthylacine]

Japanese G1 continuity is absolutely not normal about girls but damned if they don't give us some of the best ones

There was a significant amount of Transformers continuity released between 1987 and around 2007 that was produced in Japanese and is really only known to most English-speaking fans through fansubs, dubs that were only released in Australia, and the like. Shows like Headmasters, Victory, and Zone. Manga like Victory and 15 Go Go Go Teletraan (which was really mostly Kiss Players). Radio shows like Kiss Players.

I'm gonna be super up front. Japanese G1 is not normal about femmes in any way, shape or form. At the same time, it gave us some of the BEST and most underused female characters in the Transformers universe.

Headmasters, which came out right after the US G1 show ended, is particularly egregious. In Headmasters, Arcee has been reduced to Fort Max's administrative assistant, uses ridiculously polite and subservient language, and is also the only medic. And being a medic would be kind of badass if they let her be as badass as Ratchet, you know? But they absolutely do not.

Also, in Headmasters, Carly (now married to Spike) allows her son--a freaking child, not even a teenager--to go on missions when Spike can't and a human is needed, because uh, for some reason it's better for a 12 year old boy to go, not an adult woman?

But most of the good femmes don't come from Headmasters. And some of the best femmes we have are from Japanese G1.

Super-God Masterforce made it up to us by giving gave us Minerva, a human girl who is a Headmaster with a robot body (transtector) making her basically a bad ass mecha pilot, and who actively does fight.

The Victory manga gives us Esmeral, Deathsaurus' incredibly classy wife, and Lyzack, Leozack's twin sister, who is in charge of defending the homefront but really does want to go out and fight. Illumina appears in both the Victory manga and the anime. She's a little human girl who has a crush on Jan Minakaze and is always trying to get people to choose nonviolence.

(Lyzack later appears in an English-language comic - the Wings Universe--wherein she's basically Deathsaurus' servant and Starscream hits on her. I don't like that.)

There are a number of great femmes who were only ever toys. The Cobalt Sentries set gave us Howlback, leader of the Decepticon military police (called the Cobalt Sentries). She is basically Ravage's twin sister but instead of being super stealthy she can turn your attacks right back on you.

(Later she appears in several English language comics and in at least one she is canonically trans. I'm not a fan of her depiction in the SG Recordicons Batman tribute arc, though.)

The Unite Warriors toyline - Takara's response to Combiner Wars, basically - gave us the combiner Megatronia, made up of Megaempress, and her four guards, Lunaclub (sometimes called Luna Clover or Luna Trefle), Flowspade, Moonheart, and Trickdiamond. They are incredibly awesome.

(IDW 2019 used Trickdiamond, but none of the others. Tricky was one of Swindle's contacts.)

Then there's the elephant in the room that everyone pretends isn't there...Kiss Players.

So, okay. There is nothing normal about Kiss Players whatsoever. On the other hand, I'd rather listen to KP than watch RID2015 which is just blatant copaganda from hell.

Kiss Players had an interesting plot involving little bits of Galvatron and Unicron getting into humans and creating the Kiss Players--humans who could give TFs a powerup by kissing them and then merging with their internals somehow. Then there are the Legions, the dick-tongued monsters that everyone who hasn't actually listend to the show or read the manga thinks are Megatron.

The dick-tongued monsters are gross. It is also gross that some of the Kiss Players are barely teenagers and definitely not adults and are constantly ending up in Situations.

But the plot centres around the apparent rise of Convoy, or Optimus, from the dead, and his transformation into a weird groomery dude, which many people don't understand there was an actual reason for, because it's not Optimus, it's someone else riding around in his body.

Melissa Faireborn is like if you chopped Marissa Faireborn's IQ in half, dyed her hair blond and threw out any pants or skirts that covered her knees. She is nothing like Marissa and I treat them as cousins, but Xiaoxiao Li is amazing and her real lover.

Anyhow, this female scientist (Dr Amaou) lost her mind over the loss of her daughter during the events of the 1986 movie et sequelae, and she's got to be stopped from turning Atari and her Autorooper robot pal into a permanent fusion to reincarnate her daughter Shizuku (whom for some reason I always want to call Setsuna instead).

It's a little confusing because most of the really good parts of the plot got jammed into a few episodes near the end of the season, although once you know what it is, it's clear that it's being set up. That artist just likes borderline lolicon way too much.

The second season of KP is very squeaky clean and sends the girls out to collect what they think are Allspark fragments, and they are very annoyed because Ravage, whom they call "black panther man" keeps getting in their way and fucking with them, only to later find out that the bots who gave them this task are Unicronian heralds and Ravage is trying to stop them from helping Unicron do what Unicron does.

Rosanna, everyone's favourite robot pop idol, comes from the second season of KP, although you don't see very much of her or her companions Glit and Sundor.

Incidentally KP sets up the Unicron Trilogy and some of its characters end up in the UT--which did come to the US, and gave us Alexis Thi Dang.

(This post is brought to you because I just wrote an Esmeral thing and someone was musing separately about Megaempress as a parent and I almost ended up writing this post while reblogging them, because I'm a nerd with a hyperfixation).

[cannibalgoldfish]

Unavoidable

Paring: Price X Trans male reader 

Summary: Waiting out a storm with the unit was one thing but waiting out a storm alone with the Captain was another. Reader's crush on Price leads to an offer he can't refuse.

Part two

Word count: 1,359

Warnings: NSFW- so minors DNI- (AFAB parts mentioned but no use of feminine language or gendering for reader) 

This is my first x reader so let me know how I did lmao 

The low level static of the radio, being continuously left on for any signal that the pickup was on route, faded into the background. You sat on the couch adjusting your position every few minutes, the stupid old ass couch the safe house provided felt like it was a cardboard box rather than having actual cushions. A beat up old book sat on the coffee table by the couch, with the well used houses soldiers would leave behind little things for entertainment. It became a sort of morbid tradition, little pieces of those who came before you and that would be there after you whether they where alive or not. 

Picking up the book,  some cheap action and romance filled Sci-fi, you opened it grateful for some distraction to your current dilemma. The dilemma, leaning his 6' 2" muscle bound self on the counter waiting for the kettle to boil, was unfortunately and unknowingly causing a set of not so pristine ideas.

There was almost no privacy back at base and even if there was, the unit traveled for 90% of missions leaving you to have to keep a bag packed and prepared to leave at a moments notice. Besides it was nearly impossible to sneak anything travel size in your duffle without the rest of the team knowing about it. (Gaz was less of a worry, Soap on the other hand could sniff out contraband better than the dogs he disliked, and where's there Soap there's Ghost.) 

Price wearing those tight ass shirts didn't help, either he knew what he was doing (whore) or he was extremely oblivious which made it even better. (himbos are popular for a reason right?)

"You seem restless." 

You looked up from the book, realizing you had been staring at the same page for the last five minutes. ".... just excited to get back I guess..." Glancing up you saw he was directly facing you, back against the cabinet. The kettle let out a small whistle breaking the silence, he turned to fill the cup with water.

You move again, this time not from being uncomfortable but from being too comfortable. God, the things he made you feel from just a look. Taking up the length of the couch you attempt to go back to the five dollar fiction. 

I really need a vacation, a long nice fun vacation. 

Sensing movement you glance up again, standing at the edge of the couch was Price, leaning over he lightly taps your leg. Shifting your feet to make room for him, you sit up readjusting yourself for a better "reading" position. Occasionally peering over the top of the book you'd glance at Price, almost sleepily drinking his tea and zoning out in his own little haze. Once he had finished he set down the empty mug, crossing his arms forming his signature pose. 

"What about you?" you ask, setting the book on the table next to his cup. (Making a show of book marking a page to make it seem like you where actually reading)"I'm going to get some rest.", he states laying his head against the couch. "Boring." you retaliate, seeing the small smile he has as you pick up the book.  

Another round of chapters does nothing for your issue, in fact the book itself seems to be a factor in helping lead you back to certain thoughts. Not to mention that the periodic movement of his leg, slightly twitching in his sleep, would bump against your foot reminding you how close he was. Going to get up to make yourself a cup of tea, you see it. 

To be fair you weren't originally looking in that area but when someone (a someone who has great thighs by the way) is fully manspreading and leaning back, well there isn't much there to hide it. Especially when it's on "high alert".

Throwing your weight back into the couch, shoulders purposely hitting the back cushions for extra movement, you look at him. Price, opening his eyes and slowly turning his head, stares back at you silently waiting for a reason for the disturbance. His face turning from slight annoyance to confusion as he sees the smug smile on your face. 

"Seems you're.....excited too" 

Eyes widening a split second before breaking eye contact he turns back to facing forward rubbing a hand over his face, 

he shifts.

Not getting up.

Not leaving. 

Not even moving to sit up. 

"Should I help a soldier out?" 

He turns back to you, quicker this time surprised at the bold remark. He doesn't stop you, simply watching as you move over to straddle his lap. Hands lifted avoiding touching you as you sat down, barely hovering over your thighs. Your hands resting on his shoulders, his eyes cutting through the low light of the single bulb hanging from the celling meet yours. Both waiting, you for any sign to stop as he contemplates, both knowing that it's a bad idea. 

But bad ideas are the most fun.

He makes the smallest nod, nearly indictable. You begin to move pulling off his shirt, grinding slowly before reaching down to unbutton his pants once, burying your head in his neck groaning over feeling him hardening. He puts his hands over yours stopping you, you sit up looking at him. Not breaking eye contact he slides his hands underneath you, picks you up and places you half on half off the couch. Waiting for permission he silently kneels down and spreads your thighs open, this time it was your turn to nod. Sliding off everything in one motion, he leans forward the moment he was given access. You move to get motion any motion to relive the dull ache that begins to speed up as he licks your thighs. 

You arch as you feel his tongue press against you, moving and tasting the arousal he caused now dripping down his lips. Fingers added to the soft suckling and massaging as his mouth moved up to the bundle of nerves screaming to be touched. Your hands in his hair, thighs squeezing him in encouragement as he finds the right places. "God- Price just- uh- just fuck me already" 

He raises from his spot and stands there looking down at you and the mess he left you in, hand in his pants moving at slow pace, his formerly blue eyes now blown black by his pupils. Without a word he pulls you by your hips to him and slowly enters you, throwing his head back once he's fully in. You moan as he places a calloused thumb over your clit rubbing circles, he barley moves allowing you to adjust to him. Walls not even needed to tighten around him, as he fills every space you can handle. The slight burn of being stretched soon fades and is replaced with pleasure as he increases his movements. His deep breaths and moans fill the room as he rocks into you. He keeps his hands on you, not daring to let go for a single second, one keeping your back arched and other continuing to pleasure you as you pull him down onto you.  

"We shouldn't- ah-  We shouldn't be doing this." He growls into your neck, the taboo sending a rush down your spine. 

we shouldn't but I want to 

The forbidden thought adds more life into him as his thrusts begin to speed up and grow more aggressive, the couch and you now nearly shoved back and forth across the floor. "Price I'm close keep-" He grinds cutting you off, pressing harder and harder into you as you finally climax with him buried as far as he could in you. His shoulders go slack after a moment you feel his lips move but not words come out. He props himself on his elbows gives you one last look, puts on his pants, and walks out of sight into the bathroom. Leaving you splayed out on the couch still sticky with his cum, you realize he never kissed you. Not once the entire time.

 

"What the fuck did I just do?" 

I edited it after posting it (I KNOW IM SORRY BUT I HAD TO FIX SOME THINGS)

Follow for x reader stuff

I'm making a 141 x reader series (mainly x male reader but I can write for others)

Requests are open

[mr-1-2-3-4]

Short story?-

7-11 and Pixel were walking back to the meeting point after completing the mission, talking a bit, Pixel said with his radio like voice because of his voice box

“Do you think all the Konni fucks are dead here?”

Pixel said with a bit of unease in his voice, while still holding his SKD gravity knife. 7-11 noticed and put his hand on Pixel’s shoulder, making Pixel relax and loosened his grip a bit, 7-11 spoke in a soft and reassuring voice

“I’m sure, you don’t need to worry, all the others are out at the trucks, and I’m sure we can handle ourselves”

Pixel, who wasn’t really listening and was more focused on his surroundings, as 7-11 kept talking, Pixel heard a light tap of boots hitting the floor, he shifted his hood a bit and looked back and saw faint lights of night vision goggles and a slight shine of a gun as it was raised.

Pixel quickly moved 7-11 as he heard the click of a trigger, throwing him at a wall, clipping and sliding his SKD gravity knife open, before he could do anything he was almost attacked but he did a back handspring out of instinct, and backed up. 7-11 who just processed what was happening, quickly pulled out a pistol, and went to shoot. Nothing happened and thought to himself with an eye roll “what a perfect time to run out of ammo” before pulling out and flipping open his butterfly knife and getting a few cuts on a Konni soldier.

Pixel who was almost punched got down and kicked the Konni soldier’s legs out and jumped back up using another back handspring while thinking “damn I either look really stupid or really questionable” Pixel backed up some more as the Konni soldier got up, little did Pixel know he was about to back up into one as 7-11 yelled.

“Pixel watch out!”

But it was already too late, Pixel was grabbed and muffled until he passed out, 7-11 who got distracted by it got tackled onto the ground, 7-11 tried to fight back but the Konni soldier punched him very hard, knocking him unconscious. 7-11’s head jerked to the side as he punched, before going limp as blood seeped through his mask.

A Few hours or even a day, 7-11 woke up tied up next to Pixel who was tied up with handcuffs, 7-11’s ankles were tied to the chair as his hands were tied behind the chair, both had no gear, he looked over at Pixel who just had a black t-shirt and his shorts he wore under his overalls, while 7-11 only had on a t-shirt and shorts he wore under his gear. He looked around the dimly lit room, there was nothing much, just the chairs they were tied to, a metal door and a table in the room with their stuff. 7-11 watched as Pixel woke up and did the same and spoke thankfully still keeping his voice box

“Where- what happened…”

Pixel spoke tiredly, still tired from the fight and lack of an inhaler break. 7-11 spoke looking at Pixel

“It’s going to be ok Bud, I’m sure Graves and the others will find us… hopefully flannel can track the signal on your-”

7-11 was cut off by the metal door opening, as 3 konni men walked in, one holding a metal bar, one with keys. The one with nothing walked over and spoke

“We need some information from you, all of it. On Graves. On your base and shadow company’s plans. And most importantly unit 15.”

7-11 looked at the Konni soldier, his experience turning annoyed

“And you think I’m going to tell you shit. I’m not saying anything. And why the hell do you want to know about my unit?”

The konni let out a dark chuckle, looking at him grabbing his chin but 7-11 moves his head away, the Konni soldier spoke

“We just need too, the unit is definitely… something. A blind medic, a mute lieutenant, a now dead trans lieutenant in training, a burnt sniper, and an archer? Why on earth would you need an archer for a shadow unit? But that’s not really important right now. But what will happen if you don’t comply, well.”

The Konni soldier motions for the Konni soldier with keys to unhandcuff Pixel, so the soldier did before the soldier with the metal bar came over and grabbed Pixel up by the neck, picking him put roughly and threw him hard on the ground and hit him a couple times with the metal bar, 7-11 went to look away but the Konni soldier held his head in place forcefully and roughly, as 7-11 started to cry a bit, watching Pixel cry and shout in pain, as he was beaten nonstop, Pixel couldn’t even speak as blood started seeping through his clothes, holding up his arms covering his face. Pixel was scared. More than 7-11 had seen and Pixel never showed much and this was showing a lot, as he cried tears running down his face, looking like a small scared kitten trying to run but couldn’t. He was just repeatedly getting hit and kicked until 7-11 had enough and yelled, tears running down his face.

“OK! OK! OK! I’ll talk!”

The Konni soldier stopped hitting him, before Pixel yelled

“Don’t! All the shadows' lives are worth more than mine!”

Pixel side before getting hit again, letting out a pain grunt, breathing heavily trying to stop himself from crying.

7-11 didn’t know what to do, he wanted to save Pixel and spill all the information he had, but it would put all the shadows in danger, but if he didn’t he’d be forced to watch Pixel get beat. He was thinking about what to do, when he heard the door get kicked opened and seen LoveHurt in the doorway shouting

“You messed with the wrong unit te kusipäät!”

The Konni soldier with the metal bar went to hit LoveHurt but they did a back handspring then turned and kicked him in the face as LoveHurt took the metal bar and went behind him swiftly and put the bar to his neck and broke it. The one with keys went to stab LoveHurt but they quickly moved out the way into the hallway where there were already dead Konni soldiers. The Konni soldier jumped at them, but an arrow went through him, killing him on impact. LoveHurt turned their head and gave a nod of approval at Popcorn at the end of the hall, who was standing next to his bloody crowbar. Pops waves a bit at LoveHurt, not knowing how to accept it.

The last Konni soldier grabbed a gun and held it at 7-11, and was about to pull the trigger when Delta came out of nowhere and tackled him and took out his hand scythe and killed the Konni soldier. Delta got up and cut 7-11’s ropes and helped support him before he passed out, and Delta just said fuck it and bridal style carried him, and Pops got Pixel over his shoulder and they got them out of there, as LoveHurt followed with 7-11’s and Pixel’s stuff.

Mr.1234-

@pampanope

[kmfoxtail546]

100 Years Coming

A Lucifer Morningstar x Trans!Male Reader by. KM-Foxtail-546

Chapter Summary: It's your first day at the Hazbin Hotel after being brought in as the receptionist by Alastor as a cover for helping with his wounds. You're exploring the hotel to get to know the layout after Alastor only showed you half of the layout. You're to the opposite of Alastor's Radio Tower when you find an intricately carved door decorated with snakes and apples. And are those... Ducks?

No use of Y/N

You can also read it on my Ao3!

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Minors Do Not Interact, Lucifer Trauma, Mentions of Depression, Depressive Episodes, Comforting depressive episodes, mentions/descriptions of trauma, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, Lilith is mentioned, relationship trauma, trans reader, male reader, male x male romance, cuddling I guess? Lol it's hardly anything compared to what's to come. Unedited

Word Count:1,908 words this chapter

Author's Note: Special thanks to @dragongeeks for Roleplaying with me in the first place and giving me the inspiration to finally write my first fic. Extra note at the end.

Chapter 1: A Door of Snakes and... Ducks?

You sighed slightly as you wrapped up putting your new room together at the hotel. Having already helped Alastor with his bandaging for the night you thought about what you should do. It was relatively late but you were still wide awake, mins buzzing with energy after moving yet again for the 5th time in just 4 months. It was getting tiring but at least this time it was by choice and not by those pricks who keep following and harassing you wherever you settled.

Deciding to step out of your room you adjust your vest and start wandering the halls. Alastor had only shown you half of the layout of the hotel. Seemingly having drawn an invisible line halfway across like some child. Thinking on it for a moment you head towards the areas you hadn't been to familiarize yourself with the rest of the layout. You'd have to know it for your new job as the Hotel's receptionist anyway considering you'd have to show new guests to their rooms.

The energy seems to shift as you cross that invisible threshold that Alastor had seemed to make, shivering slightly as his very essence that had drenched that half of the hotel left you. You pause for a moment before venturing forward, determined on your mission. Most of your exploration is uneventful and it seems to be an exact copy of what you'd been shown.

As you're wrapping up with the uppermost floor of the hotel you come across an intricately carved door. It was stunning with by far some of the finest craftsmanship you'd seen in either life or death. It was decorated with detailed imagery of Snakes and Apples, hints of Eden hidden among an overall circus theme but then you notice something, Is that... Are those DUCKS? Like all over the door there are little rubber ducks hidden among almost every detail.

You snort slightly as that finally seems to tip the edge of your curiosity. You're about to just open the door before you think better of it. Knocking firmly as to make sure you didn't walk in on anyone. There's a yelp and shuffling behind the door along with the muffled crash of what sounded like a squeaky pile. After a couple moments someone seems to rush up to the door and open it. You go speechless, awe-struck as you find yourself face to face with none other than Lucifer Morningstar himself. The Sin of Pride and King of Hell.

Lucifer looks disheveled as if he'd just been interrupted from something. His desk was a mess with several discarded Rubber Ducks. You finally snap out of it when he asks what he can do for you and you sweep yourself into a full bow, suddenly feeling panicked. "I'm so sorry Your Majesty! I didn't mean to interrupt you or anything. I'll leave if you need me to."

Lucifer's eyes widened as he suddenly spoke very quickly. "NO! No no no. It's uh. It's okay. You don't have to leave at all, I wasn't. I wasn't really doing anything at all. And please l, just call me Lucifer." He smiled awkwardly at you and cleared his throat. "A-anyway you don't have to bow like that for me. At least not here at the Hotel. While I'm here I am very simply Charlie's Dad."

You reluctantly stand back up like normal before gasping as you notice the piles upon piles of ducks in the room behind him. Forgetting to think you rush past him inside of the room, stopping to look at each individual rubber duckie. Taking great interest in his collection. "Wow! I've never seen this many unique rubber ducks. I think at all even, let alone all in one place. Do you collect them? Or do you somehow make these yourself?"

Lucifer looked confused at how you took such interest in his ducks. Anyone else he'd run into who saw them(except Charlie obviously) had made fun of them. So he certainly hadn't expected you to observe them so intently. Feeling suspicious he asked "I mean I make them myself. But why do you want to know?"

You could feel his suspicions at the back of your neck, raising your hands in surrender. "I promise I mean nothing bad in it! I actually really like rubber ducks and ducks in general. And all of these are so unique and amazingly creative and well made! I'm honestly really impressed. I don't think I could ever make something like; well to be honest ANY of these."

Lucifer's suspicions faded at your heartfelt response, before utter confusion set in. "You don't. You don't think that they're stupid or childish? I mean it's such a stupid hobby honestly and-"

You turned around and interrupted him the instant he started to speak like that. "What?! God no I LOVE rubber ducks. I mean they're not the most important thing to me but I find them super adorable. And once again I find it really impressive that you can make things like this."

Picking up a duck with a ringleader get up and a baton, you laughed as it waved it's baton and spit confetti out it's mouth. "See? Stuff like this is absolutely amazing. The fact that you can make such amazing things. Isn't that enough to keep doing it?"

You grabbed his hand and put the ringleader duck in it. Closing his hand around it and holding it like that. Smiling gently as you did so. Lucifer stared at where your hands met, before a tear streamed down his face.

He'd been in a depressive episode over these ducks, as well as several other things before you knocked on his door. And now here you were, telling him about how impressive and amazing his ducks really were. He'd expected the typical harsh words everyone else gave him over them, not words of encouragement.

Upon seeing his tears you immediately panicked and rapidly pulled your hands away from his as it re-clicked in your mind just who you were talking to. And you'd just made him cry without even knowing whether you did. "Oh no! I'm so sorry. I. I don't know what I did, I didn't want to make you cry!"

Lucifer tried to catch his breath. "No. No you didn't do anything wrong. This is all me okay? I. I really shouldn't be reacting like this, especially in company. I just. Give me a moment." He was fidgeting with his wedding band again and something seemed to click in your mind.

"You know. Special interests like this are really interesting. I mean I have an odd collection or two. I even keep a collection of certain Hell Times magazines for inspiration with my designs. I really admire the fabric work displayed in them." You pulled him into a tight hug, feeling terrified that you were severely overstepping your boundaries but also having a good feeling that he needed this.

At that simple gesture Lucifer broke down, hugging you back tightly and sobbing into your shoulder as he tried to process your words. You felt startled but carefully lowered the two of you down into a duck bean bag chair on the ground. Holding him as you rubbed his back. Simply sitting there with him speaking comforts to him as he broke down.

Lucifer barely managed to speak after SEVERAL moments, doing so quietly. "Sorry, I haven't had anyone say such things to me since. I don't know since I was just a kid? That was a LONG time ago." That made you confused. "Really? I mean you'd think that Lilith would have said such things to you at least once over all those years. I mean you two have been married since humanity was first even a thing." Lucifer shook his head. "No, I mean most of the things you just said are essentially the opposite. Lilith as well as anyone else always told me that I shouldn't ever focus on these stupid ducks. That they're a waste of time among several other hobbies. I mean if I wasn't doing my duties I'd essentially get yelled at."

You felt concerned. "Lucifer. That's hardly anything but normal. That's actually REALLY bad. Nobody should've been treating you like that. Hobbies like this are important for your mental health. Especially when it comes to eternity."

He teared back up again and simply hugged you as he sobbed all over again. Feeling horrible for breaking down like this, especially someone he'd JUST met and didn't even know the name of. He eventually started to settle down again but this time it was more out of exhaustion than anything else as he yawned.

You smiled at him gently and picked him up, carrying him over to his bed and setting him down. Standing next to him. He didn't raise any complaints, complying with your actions. He did after all feel more than just a little bit exhausted. He was about to conk out as you started walk away. But he grabbed your wrist gently. "... Please don't go. I don't. I don't think I could stand to be alone in my bed right now. I know you already did a lot for me. But I don't think I can sleep without you here right now."

You smirked teasingly. "My my Mr. Morningstar. Are you asking me to bed with you? You haven't so much as asked my name." His eyes went wide in panic as he fumbled over his words, trying to explain that that wasn't what he was insinuating at all. Before blushing as he heard you laugh.

Lucifer huffed slightly. "You're just messing with me! But in all seriousness please? And I suppose I should also ask you what your name is." You told him your name, introducing yourself properly and explaining you were hired on as the new front desk attendant.

You cleared your throat after introducing yourself. "But yeah of course.ni'd be happy to help you out here. If you'd just allow me to remove my vest and dress shirt that would make me a lot more comfortable to spend the night here." Lucifer flushed red and nodded before looking away.

The two of you chatted idly as you got yourself more comfortable before he finally looked back over at you as you settled into the bed next to him. His breath catching as he saw your top surgery scars, reaching towards them lightly before putting his hand back down. Deciding against asking about them. Noticing his interest and curiosity in them you answered a silent question. "Top surgery scars. I was biologically female upon arriving in Hell and had them cut off with Angelic Steele so they wouldn't come back after my first 10 years here."

Lucifer nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm glad that you're more comfortable like that. People are prettier when they're comfortable in their own skin." You flushed bright red and distracted the subject. "You were tired right? Why don't we get some sleep. It'll do you some good."

Lucifer blushed again as he made his next request. "Could. Could I hug you again? It felt nice." You smiled at him gently and pulled him up to you for a cuddling hug as you guys were laid down under his covers. He completely relaxed and fell asleep. You following suit not too long after. Besides, what could a couple of hours hurt anyway?

End of Chapter One

Author's Note: Okay! That was the end of my first chapter of 100 Years Coming. Please tell me what you thought of it in the comments!

@dragongeeks

[roadkillxd]

Oh okay, thank you for replying :)

So for the request I was thinking of alpha simon riley (ghost) x alpha john price x omega pakistani!ftm reader (they are already married/dating). Where again reader also works in the forces (air force) and both all three have a mission they go to but when reader is in air on the coms he hears that they can't get in contact with ghost, john or any of their team members making the reader worry, reader goes back to the base only to fin out his partners haven't shown up yet, so basically angst but they show up after having near death experience. Reader doesn't stop himself from running up to them and hugging both ghost and john but when they get to their bed chambers both john and ghost realize that there is something going on with the reader but is not telling them so when he asks the reader what's going on the reader tries to dodge their question but they figure it out that reader is still scared so that ensues the smut with softdom ghost and john with teasing (basically they use toys and not letting reader orgasm), orgasm control and over stimulation with aftercare.

I'm sorry if this is confusing or too specific, if you don't feel like writing it then it's cool. I hope you are having a good day/night.❤️

-🦝

Okay, I was planning on working on a different request but I was already writing this one in my head and couldn't stop thinking about it. I didn't include A/B/O dynamic or sex toys this time just 'cause that's what my brain was telling me to do. Also nothing explicitly mentioning the reader being Pakistani but nothing disputing it either! AND I ADDED DADDY KINK. OKAY SORRY I'M DONE NOW. ENJOY.

Price x Ghost x FTM!Reader ↪ 2511 words — 18+ / SMUT & ANGST.

Content tags — trans male submissive reader, cis male dominant Price, cis male dominant Ghost, implied that Ghost is submissive to Price, fem terms used to describe trans male reader's genitalia, referenced/implied character death, ghost x price, subspace, unsafe sex, crying, daddy kink, mild overstimulation, orgasm delay/denial, established relationship, penetrative sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, fingering, analingus, and double penetration. 

You’d watched the building fucking explode.

Cover of night, lights off sort of deal, just high enough where no one would hear the roar of your jets. There was a rudimentary airstrip about three klicks from the warehouse where the boys were to rendezvous for extraction once the place was cleared. In the meantime, you had thermal scanning the building, picking up the faint traces of heat inside, radioing back and forth with the ground team to give them heads up on the possible targets within. 

One second Ghost’s halfway through a sentence and the next your comms are filled with nothing but static. Something rocks against your jet, the force of it shaking your flight pattern—every meter hitting zero and every instrument light going dark before all suddenly sputtering back to life, lighting up like Christmas. Minor EMP blast.

You look down at your thermal wide-eyed just as a flower of red blossoms at the center of the warehouse before flourishing through the entire screen, body heat indistinguishable from the screaming orange flames you now see engulfing the building. 

You press your communicator.

“Ghost, how copy?”

Static.

“Lieutenant? Captain? Do you copy?”

Static.

“Anyone—” your voice cracks and you swallow, head filled with so much noise your thoughts go quiet.

The missile-lock sensor begins screaming, a sharp intake of breath filling your lungs as you slam your accelerator, barrel rolling to the side before pulling up hard enough to make your head spin as the missile whistles past.

You pull back, letting the plane arch before nose diving, jets sputtering and choking off as you take one more careful look at the raging fire, and with a muttered curse and the sound of the missile-lock sensor, you pull up—near skimming the tree line as you take off towards the base, jet flame catching on the dry pine. 

It was times like these that you were no good in a plane.

*

With comms dead around the warehouse you had to get pretty close to base to call for backup. By then, and taking relations into account, Laswell wouldn’t let you assist.

For a second you considered insubordination.

For a second.

You don’t know what state you’d be in if you went and… there was no one to assist. No one to save. Your brain so, so loud you hit the runway hard, the plane bouncing and a sharp reprimand from the tower that you can barely hear over the static in your head, like the EMP scrambled that too.

You shower, and then they make you do paperwork. You take it to the little office you share with Soap—the office that barely sees any use. It takes you two hours to fill out the first page. 

Through the glass and down the hall comes the dull sound of laughter, rich and smokey. It’s Price’s laugh, and for a moment, you pay it no mind, memories foggy and blending at the forefront of your mind.

And then there’s Soap’s laugh, too, and it’s closer, and piercing enough for you to look up at the clear door with big eyes, unbreathing. 

The door clicks open, and in peaks Soap’s big stupid head.

“Knock knock…”

Ghost is the one to reach over his shoulder to push it the rest of the way open. You nearly hop the fucking desk, shouldering hard past Soap to grab Price by the face and slamming your lips against his. Then you turn and throw your arms around Ghost, the man letting out a grunt but picking you an inch off the floor just to hold you tighter.

“What the hell am I? Chop liver?” Soap jokes, jokingly offended and with a big smile on his face. 

Ghost puts you down and you turn on Soap, grabbing his hand to pull him into a quick hug.

“Shut up, I already know you’re explosion proof. These are the two I have to worry about. You fuckers scared me.”

“Aye, well you’re not the only one, Ghost here—”

“Enough,” Ghost barks and Soap shuts up with a smile, leaning in to faux whisper to you.

“Shoulda seen him when we couldn’t find yer plane, thought you went down.”

You see Ghost roll his eyes out of the corner of yours.

“That EMP was shit,” you say, “takes more than that to crash me.”

*

The four of you discuss for a short while, Price’s hand eventually finding yours, interlacing your fingers as you talk. Ghost’s staring at you, taking you in, like he’s committing it all to memory—like he’s worried he’ll forget if he doesn’t. 

Soap agrees to finish up the mission report for you, considering he was actually on the ground when everything went to shit. Usually, Price or Ghost would argue, always trying to keep Johnny away from the paperwork, but Price squeezes your hand and Ghost nods and then the three of you are wordlessly heading down the hall toward the Captain’s room.

You lay on the big bed as the two men take a short shower together, and you can only remember how fucking awkward they look cramped into the small space. A smile tries to weakly tug at your lips, though it quickly drops as your eyes flutter shut in what you can only word as despair. 

You could’ve lost them.

They climb into bed with you, sandwiching you on either side, warm bodies bruised but surprisingly intact considering. Ghost presses to your back, long limbs tangled with yours, Price at your front. They whisper little, meaningless conversation and you monotonously nod along.

You’ve seen them die before, in your dreams. Your nightmares. It’s always in your arms, hot blood seeping wet into your clothes and skin. You get to see the light fade from their eyes, and they tell you they love you with a final rattling breath.

They don’t go in a ball of flame. They aren’t there one second and gone the next, words left unsaid. Not even meaningful ones. 

You could’ve lost them.

“Love,” Price’s voice is gruff, and his calloused hand brushes your cheek, “you’re shaking.”

Ghost is quiet, but you can feel his thumbs rubbing absent circles into your hip bone. You turn your face away, trying to bury it against the pillow. You’re not gonna cry—you don’t want to cry in front of your superiors. It doesn’t matter what they are to you, you won’t do it.

“Risk of the job,” you choke out, “I should know better. I’m fine.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“It’s….okay. To be afraid,” Ghost finally says, voice low and steady. Slow, like he’s thinking carefully about what he says. It’s not what you expected him to tell you, if anything at all, “it’s a part of the job, it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t, or doesn’t, hurt.”

Price hums in agreement, pinching your chin to turn your face toward him again. The tears streaking your face makes his heart break. He kisses your nose.

“We’re here now. We came back,” Price leans down to capture your lips in his, slow and deep, tongue licking into your mouth as your lips part to the intrusion. Ghost’s pulled his mask up just enough to bare his own, sucking kisses against your neck. Price pulls back, deep blues shining, “I can’t make promises, but we’ll always fight like hell to make it home to you.”

Your skin buzzes, your brain filled with a new kind of static—one safe and belonging. You feel warm, and like you’re attached, melting against the two men sliding their hands over your body. 

Ghost’s left hand snakes up your chest, reaching around to cup your throat, pulling you from Price’s needy lips to his own, kissing you hard and messy, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling. You moan into his mouth, hips rocking forward to rub your aching core against Price’s muscle-corded thigh.

You could’ve lost them.

You grip tight to Price’s flexing bicep as he fingers your cunt open, stretching your hole on his thick fingers. Ghost’s moved down the bed, body awkwardly angled halfway off the mattress just to get at your ass, tongue licking insistently at your puckered hole. You’re so overwhelmed, moans and cries and whimpers falling from your lips unbidden, the both of them working you open for their cocks.

“Our beautiful boy,” Price groans, voice so low and gravelly it makes your insides melt, pussy leaking out a gush of slick that has Price chuckling, “y’like that, huh? ‘Course you do.”

There’s scratch marks on Price’s arm now, welting up angry and red—marks you know he’ll wear proudly. It makes you dizzy, caught between rocking down onto Price’s probing fingers and back onto Simon’s freakishly long tongue.

You can feel the pressure building up in your core, moans coming quicker and quicker. Simon slips two fingers in alongside his tongue, your walls clench tight around Price’s digits, so close to coming when—

The captain pulls his fingers free and you sob out in frustration, hips rocking uselessly to try and find more stimulation, Simon having pulled back to nibble at your cheek as soon as Price had slipped free.

“What the fuck,” you cry. 

Price tsks at you, holding your chin firmly to hold your gaze steadily. His expression is schooled, the only signs of arousal are his blown pupils and the tiniest bit of flush dampening his cheeks. 

“Behave,” he says, voice stern. The tone makes your eyes nearly glaze over, and he can’t help the soft smile that splits his features at the sight. 

“C’mere,” he urges, grabbing your hand to guide it down to his own briefs, his cock half erect and pressing against the fabric, “get me nice and hard, love.”

You whine, fumbling with the hem before pulling his cock free, Price groaning low and deep when you gather your own slick on your fingers to stroke him with. It doesn’t take him long to get fully hard, prick twitching in your grasp. Simon’s still absently stretching your ass, keeping your arousal simmering without pushing you over the edge.

You’re so turned on, begging for them to fuck you, core aching from the lack of stimulation. You consider it a mercy when Price finally guides your hand away and shifts forward, cockhead rubbing delicately over your clit and making you shutter.

He grips his own dick, holding it steady as he teasingly slides it between your slick folds, catching on your hole every now and again to make you whimper. 

You feel Simon shifting back up the bed—feel his hard cock slick with saliva rubbing insistently at the small of your back—can’t help but moan at the thought of him stroking himself while eating you out. 

Price pushes at your hole a bit, your body instinctively tensing as the tip breaches your tight walls.

“Relax,” Simon growls low in your ear, licking at the shell, “gonna be good for your daddy?”

You moan, and Price chuckles.

“Jesus Christ, Si,” he breathes, sounding put out, but you can feel how his cock pulses at the word as it slips deep into your cunt. 

He doesn’t give you time to adjust—knows you don’t need it with how slick you are, how lax your body got at the simple command from Simon. He pumps his hips into you slowly but with considerable force, rocking your body back against Simon’s, who’s holding you tight against his broad chest as he whispers filth into your ear.

“Cunt’s so loud, sweetheart.”

“Bet you feel so good ‘round his cock, huh?”

“He’s so big, isn’t he? Fuck, you sound so good.”

That fire fans bright in your tummy again, sending liquid arousal through your body as you near your orgasm yet again. Your back arches, clenching down tight on Price’s cock, making him growl.

And then he stills his hips, and you want to fucking scream.

“John, please,” you beg, fully crying now.

“What, love?” He teases, leaning down to kiss at the slow forming bruises left behind by Simon, “you have to tell me what you want.”

“Please, please, please,” you whine, the only word able to break through the haziness of your brain. You can feel Simon’s cock against your back still, twitching excitedly at your pleas.

“Hmm,” Si hums thoughtfully, trailing his lips down and across your shoulder, taking a moment to capture Price’s own, a short-lived moment of intimacy between them, “I think he wants his daddy to fill up his lil’ cunt, isn’t that right?”

You keen, nodding, and Price chokes on a groan, his cock pulsing within your walls.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, Simon,” he complains, face flushes red and buried against your shoulder now.

“You’re the one getting off on it,” he replies, like you can’t feel him leak precum against your spine every time he says the word.

“Christ alive…” Price huffs, pulling his face away from you to glare, “are you gonna help me fuck him or not?”

You can feel Simon lean down, a sharp smile pressed against the back of your neck—like a predator's maw at the throat of its prey—as he guides the tip of his cock to your fluttering hole. You squeak and Price smiles.

“Atta boy…”

The words have both you and Simon groaning.

You can feel the both of them snug within your walls, how they rub against each other through your flesh. They can feel it too, the tight fit of your body accentuating each of each other’s movements. 

They fall into a synchronous movement, Price pumping in as Ghost draws out, and so forth, making your head spin with pleasure, denied your orgasm twice now with legs shaking from the desperate need to cum. 

The both of them coo and praise, touching your body all over. You watch with half lidded eyes when Price reaches past you to grip Simon’s ass and force his hips forward, both of the men buried to the hilt inside of you as they make out, tongue and teeth and violence. The sight has you clenching up again, and Price pulls away with a cackle at the feeling, Si doubling down to fuck into your ass hard and fast.

Price’s hips move in sharp contrast to Simon’s movements, slow and steady, his hand squirming down between your bodies to rub at your cocklet with a calloused thumb. You nearly scream as you cum, your body squeezing down tight around the two men’s cocks, milking the both of them.

Price cums first, spend thick and sticky as it dribbles out past his prick and down around your thighs. You can hear him mumble something to Si you don’t quite make out past the fuzz in your ears, and then Simon is choking on a gasp, hips stuttering before burying to the hilt, rutting as he cums as well. 

You could’ve lost them.

But they’re with you now, arms wrapped around you, mixing sweat and cum and tears. You quickly fall asleep, the both of them still snug inside you.

[boytransmission]

ok so do you transmit boys or are you like. a car transmission but. a boy. cause personally i think “car transmission but a boy” is a really great gender and i might borrow it if you aren’t using it

I am transmitting myself who is a boy(etc) as one would over radio, and i am also a boy on a trans mission. Car transmission was also a factor in the username because of the whole “tranny” nickname it’s got, but the gender is not one i take up so knock yourself out 🫡 🏳️‍⚧️

[melancholicheart]

All This Time

cw: trans male pregnancy (past, mentioned), angst, miscommunication (lots of fluff and a happy ending!)

(PROLOGUE)

A mutual break was necessary.

Despite the love the two shared, they were a prime example of right person, wrong time.

The break hurt, the two of them spent their final night in each other’s arms, tears filling their words.

‘Are you sure you can’t stay?’ and ‘Do we really have to do this?’ muttered between them both the entire evening.

Still, when morning came, Simon Riley took his gear and left Johnny’s apartment whilst Soap stayed. Alone.

All was fine at first. They were insistent on the fact that it was a break, not a break-up. That the two would always find each other when the time was right, they just both wanted - needed- different things then.

They would call, through the base, and share small talk about their days but pointedly steered clear from reusing the ‘L’ word.

It lasted all of two weeks until the base, one he once worked at, refused to talk to him. Whoever he rung that day picked up and asked for MacTavish to stop calling the base.

Soap persisted, of course, until a senior officer took over the calls after three days of hanging up on Soap.

He had yelled ‘Sergeant MacTavish is no longer a member of this base therefore he has no right to call nor even possess this number, am I clear?’

Johnny had argued about his dutiful service, how he had family, but the officer shut him down.

“We all have family but we don’t talk to them daily. Give it a rest or I will have you arrested for poking your nose into military affairs.”

Johnny took it well, at first, until the third week and he needed to talk to Ghost.

‘Please may I be transferred to Lieutenant Riley or Captain Price, please?” Johnny asked on the phone, masking his accent as best as possible.

“Who am I speaking to?” Was asked and Johnny blanched, biting his nail.

“Sergeant.. Davids.”

“Never heard of you.”

“I’m from a different regiment. I have urgent orders to speak to Lieutenant Riley.”

There was quiet until a scoff sounded, “MacTavish?”

“Aye,” He sighs, “I’m sorry, I swear I’ll never ring again, it’s just- It’s an emergency and I need Ghost.”

“If it’s an emergency, the number you need is 999, not Lieutenant Riley’s.” A sneer through the line.

“Just pass me through to Ghost or Price, please!” Johnny begs.

“I will report this call to the General, Sergeant. Good day.” They say and Johnny yells.

“No please, you don’t understand-“ The call cuts off and the phone is put down. Johnny hiccups and drops his phone onto the tile of the bathroom floor, tucking into himself and whining, “I’m pregnant. Please.. I-I’m pregnant.”

And Johnny was alone again. No Price, no Ghost, no Gaz. His name on a list and being watched most likely, zero way to contact the team due to the fact none of them had personal numbers.

He tried a letter, through to the base requesting for Ghost to contact him but all letters are read before being passed through and Johnny is sure, after a week of radio silence, that Ghost has never received it.

So he was alone, somewhat. It’s the most lonely he’s ever felt, the least important and special he’s ever been, yet at the same time, he’s never had a more important mission.

He’s carrying his and Simon’s baby and he’ll be damned if he lets the military ruin anything else of his.

(END OF PROLOGUE)

hi all :) this is brought to you by my twitter thread fics lol! in the future, this will be fleshed out properly into a detailed ao3 fic but for now, it’s just a thread fic (a long one at that)!

i hope you all enjoy it!!

[chaos-monkeyy]

My latest original smut work, and another one that I had a ton of fun with 😁 I'd love to know what you think!

Trans M / Cis M, Explicit (naturally), a little shy of 4.5k words. SciFi/Fantasy, age difference + military rank difference. Also posted here on AO3 with full tags; no archive warnings apply.

Opening teaser:

“This is callsign: Gremlin, I’m going down, repeat, I’m going down! Can anyone hear me? Need search and rescue, send help, I’m going d—”

His own panicked voice, nearly drowned out by the rattling of his ship as the raging storm tossed him around in the air like a child’s toy, was the last thing Kyl heard before everything cut off in a crunch and the world went black around him.

—

The next thing he heard was a forlorn beeping. Blinking groggily as he came to, Kyl lifted his head and looked around.

The beeping was coming from the console of his one-person scout ship and the world was white now, instead of black. Wincing at the bright glare from the snowscape outside, he squinted through the half-crumpled, tilted canopy while the beeping finally warbled itself into silence.

There was nothing out there. Nothing to see but empty, windswept snow stretching to the horizon, the sun riding high in a pale aqua-blue clear sky. The last flickering lights on the ship’s console died a few seconds after the beeping did. Kyl groaned, the sound coming out as a faint croak.

Well, shit.

After a moment of sitting there with his eyes closed against the bright glare, Kyl took a deep breath and unbuckled his harness. He moved slowly, gingerly, certain he had to be injured and just wasn’t feeling it yet— but, to his surprise and relief, he seemed to be fine. Aside from a few strained muscles, some bruises from his seat harness, and just generally being shaken up by the crash landing, at least. 

First things first, then. Take stock. Forcibly pushing away the anxious worry tickling in the back of his mind— why had base gone radio silent on him like that? Had they even heard his call for help? And what the hell was he going to do if they hadn’t?— Kyl wiggled out of his seat and started rummaging through the interior wreckage of his ship.

There wasn’t all that much to search through; he’d headed out on what was supposed to be a routine one-day scouting mission, back by suppertime. He had maybe a day’s worth of water and rations. Two days if he made the supplies stretch. Nowhere near enough to try hiking back to base from this far out, though. Especially not without proper cold weather gear. He didn’t even have a jacket. And where one unexpected, unprecedented, furious storm had hit… Who knew what could come next.

Aside from the food and water, he also had a first aid kit he luckily didn’t need, save for the metallic emergency blanket folded up in the bottom of the kit. Kyl shivered as he repacked the kit minus the blanket, squinting out through the canopy again. Another howling gust of wind buffeted past, swirling up the snow and rocking the downed space craft with ominous creaking sounds. The wind whistled into the cockpit as well, Kyl noted uneasily, cold drafts coming in through the cracked plastiglass canopy and the buckled metal alike.

Well, first rule of survival: stay put if you can. Even if his mayday hadn’t gotten through to base, they had his planned flight path. Someone would find him soon, surely— hopefully— and from what his scans had been showing before the sudden and violent storm had swatted him out of the sky, from what he could see outside… his wrecked ship was probably the only shelter he’d have for kilometers around anyway.

So Kyl found the least drafty corner of the cockpit, wrapped himself tightly up in the emergency blanket, and settled in for what he hoped to hell would be a short wait.

—

It wasn’t exactly short, but it wasn’t too long either, all things considered, before someone did find him.

A little under a day and half after the crash at his best guess, Kyl was jolted out of fitful sleep by a loud banging sound on the outside of his crashed ship. He froze, relief and alarm warring foggily in his brain— what if it wasn’t his people; what if it was someone, or something, else who had found him? They were still exploring this planet, after all— but then a muffled voice called his name.

“Gremlin? Pilot! Answer me, Kyl, burn you!”

Kyl nearly fainted with giddy relief. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.…

[bubbytheliverstealingskeleton]

Yooo I can show you guys Carol and Annabelle

They’re both Coomers ex wives

Uhh lore/the ramblings under the cut

Carol loree:

She’s a trans lesbian

She and Coomer got married because their parents were pressuring them to get married, they divorced after they got to black mesa and remained friends even if Coomer doesn’t agree with her being military

After the divorce she did get taken by the military

She just she finally got into boot camp around that time is all

She’s the one who’s on the radio where the airstrikes puzzles is and fun fact, in opposing force you can see the soldier who’s on the other side of that radio I choose to believe that’s her in every universe

She and Coomer have known eachother from like the beginning of highschool and Coomer helped her to figure out she likes women

Uhhh so what else so there’s all the stuff on her drawing that I can list here

She adopted Forzen

She worked as black mesa security for a short while until she got into boot camp

And she’s the marines designated radio operator because she says things fairly clearly and people trust her to not fuck around on the radio when it’s actually important stuff

Oh uh also black mesa was supposed to be her last mission before she retired but then it’s black mesa and fucked up

Also another fun fact did you know that the soldiers going into black mesa didn’t know why they were until they got there Yeah

Anyways Annabelle lore:

She’s cis Demi ace and she thinks she’s het for a long ass time it’s not until like her 60s that she realizes that she’s Akoiromantic, and she likes the idea of being in a romantic relationship but whenever she actually gets into one all her feelings kinda go away

Coomer and her met in collage and started dating probably within 2 years of knowing eachother

She’s the ex wife who convinced Coomer to leave boxing and change his major so that they could both go into different fields of science

She does like medical science stuff so she works in the medical area of black mesa which I can’t remember what it’s called but it’s in opposing force

She ends of graduating before Coomer and is accepted into Black Mesa before him so they stop dating and don’t see eachother for a few years

Probably around 6 or so years after Coomer starts working at black mesa they finally meet again when Coomer loses his arm, they start seeing eachother again shortly after that and get married also shortly after that for like health benefits and general benefits from black mesa

They last for a long while but she is a bit of a bitch in like the way that her parents were an older couple- so tangent here you know how some older couples and such and fucked up and mean to eachother and but they still claim to love eachother- that’s basically her only viewpoint of what romance is and what it’s supposed to be like, it’s actually pretty similar with Coomers parents too which is why they stayed together for as long as they did

After around 10 year (I think I don’t care to go and check my doc) she divorces Coomer and leaves black mesa to go become a doctor at an actual hospital

Also she did work as a millitary doctor for a very short while but didn’t like the environment so she went back to black mesa

Also random fun fact about her name:

Shes named after my Mrs. Afton headcannon name

Also congrats you read my rambling here’s what I’m currently drawing while making this post

Bub(me) fun fact: Carol and Annabelle’s designs are 2 of the reasons that make me constantly question if I’m a lesbian

[lieutnt]

john "soap" mactavish masterlist

oneshots/longer fics

radio waves praising soap while out on a mission that leads to him begging to be fucked afterwards

drabbles

bratty!soap w/ an oral fixation | eating soap out and breeding him anytime anywhere | soap with a daddy kink and being gagged | soap grinding against your shoe while gagging on your dick | free use with trans!soap | pornstar!soap | soap and gaz teasing you over the phone | teasing trans!soap until he snaps | omega!soap is possessive/jealous

omega!141 and their loyal alpha | celebrating new years with the 141

[frangipanilove]

"Home" is North o’clock

Through this entire first season on TWDDD we’ve seen Daryl on a mission to find a way to get back home. He’s been desperately searching for a functioning radio in every episode, and has managed to stay laser focused on traveling north, to find a way home. Despite constantly getting sidetracked along the way, he’s now nearing Le Havre, where the people of Union of Hope have promised to help him find a ship to America.

In TWDDD 1x5 Deux Amours we see Daryl, Laurent and Azlan make their way up the river, heading north, to The Nest. We get to know Azlan, whose story involves a tragic loss which took away his reason to live.

We also heard how a clock represented a turning point for him. It saved his life, he explains, and gave him a purpose to live. I took one look at that clock and realized it was the French equivalent to Beth’s DC spoon from 4x12 Still.

I’ve written a lot about the intersection between Sirius symbolism and North Star symbolism (here and here), and once again, in TWDDD Deux Amours, we see a representation of how “north” represents “home”.

In TWD season 5 we saw it explained by Carl to Judith; that if you’re lost at night, just find the North Star, it’s at the end of the Little Dipper:

Of course we all remember Beth picking up the DC spoon/Little Dipper in Still…

Daryls entire time in France has revolved around traveling north, to the place called The Nest, where he’ll deliver Laurent and get a ticket to a trans-Atlantic cruise in return.

When Azlan dies he gives the clock to Daryl, tells him to follow the river north, until they arrive at the place depicted on the clock, The Nest (which in reality is Mont Saint Michel). When Genet’s people catch up to Daryl and Laurent, Daryl gives the clock to Laurent and instructs him to follow the river until he sees The Nest.

So the navigational themes are strong around both the clock and Beth’s DC spoon. The DC spoon for obvious reasons; the North Star is at the end of the Little Dipper, as Carl explained. The North Star will help you find your way, it’s a compass in the sky.

Azlan’s clock on the other hand, is pretty much a regular compass, in that clocks can be used as compasses. I’m not making that up, a clock can be used as a compass. That is an actual thing that people do.

Basically, what we’re seeing here is that Azlan’s clock is synonymous with Beth’s DC spoon.

And remember how all of Daryl’s efforts of getting to the north involves constantly searching for functioning radios? He’s been talking about radios non stop since he washed ashore in Marseille.

Well, in 1x5 we finally saw him get a hold of a radio. It was in a flashback from right before he was taken aboard the French Research Vessel of Horror, where we also saw a character randomly named Grady!?!???

Totally side-eying that, particularly because we also met another dude named Juno, which @wdway brilliantly recognized as a reference to the Alaska state capital Juneau! Which, again, ties right into the north symbolism because of this license plate from 5x16 Conquer:

That’s the Big Dipper and Polaris (North Star) there on the Alaska state flag!

And remember how I in this post from last week talked about how tptb sometimes uses silly word plays as symbolism? Words and phrases that phonetically sound similar? Like serious/Sirius, beer/bear, Monet/money and the classic Del Arno Foods/"there are no foods"… (which was interestingly also taken from 5x16 Conquer, where we saw the Wolves luring walkers into trailer trucks, in a perfect parallel to what we saw in Daryl’s flashback from Maine,..)

Yeah, speaking of phonetical similarities...

In TWD 10x17 Home Sweet Home we heard Beth's name for the first time in a very long time...

Maggie has no reason to believe that Beth isn't dead so I wouldnt worry about that part. What's interesting is what she's calling her sister; Bethie!

If I was ever instructed to find a name that phonetically sounds like Bethie...

...Bessy sure as hell would be among my top contenders...

Bessy, as in the name the radio operator has assigned to his radio...

I have talked about how radios are Sirius symbolism, right? (that's a rhetorical question, I have talked about it ad nauseum)

And I think I have explained that Sirius means "return/resurrection/coming back" a couple of times as well...

Bessie the Radio sure seems to be well tuned into the symbolism around "returns" and people "coming back"...

You’re free to do with that as you please...👀

[spacenutspod]

Ships passing in the night used Morse code sent with lanterns and shutters to communicate. That same basic principle has allowed NASA to communicate with Psyche, its mission to a metal-rich asteroid in the main belt. However, the “light” was a version of heat, and instead of being able to see each other, Psyche is 240 million miles away from Earth. Oh, and the upload rate of the data it sent is still better than old dial-up internet connections that were prevalent not so long ago. This feat was part of the culmination of the first Phase of NASA’s Deep Space Optical Communications experiment. Psyche is carrying a laser transceiver tuned to a specific frequency of infrared light, which can also be transmitted and received by two ground stations based in California. The infrared frequency the mission planner at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory selected is much higher than the typical radio frequency communications used for deep space missions. In this case, higher frequency also means higher data rate. As part of its Phase I operations, the experiment transmitted data to and from Psyche at an astonishing 267 megabits per second when the spacecraft was as far away as Mars when the Red Planet is closest to us. That is equivalent to a typical wired broadband connection back here on Earth. But it was made in space – with lasers. Video that Psyche sent back to Earth.Credit – JPLraw YouTube Channel In June, Psyche reached a new milestone for distance from Earth – 390 million km. That is equivalent to Earth and Mars’ farthest distance from each other. During this window, operators managed to maintain a 6.25 megabits per second download link. While that’s a few orders of magnitude slower than the maximum data rate it reached the closer distance, it is still orders of magnitude above the same data rate of a radio frequency connection with the same power output. As part of this Phase I test, what else would NASA send from its spacecraft but a cat video—in this case, an ultra-high-definition video of a cat named Taters chasing a red laser pointer for 15 seconds straight. As a proof of concept for a high-speed communication line, most of the internet would agree that this is a good use of bandwidth.  Ultimately, the latest successful connection in June was the end of the first Phase of testing for the system. The project team unequivocally proved that, as expected, communication data-rate reduction was proportional to the inverse square of the distance between Earth and Psyche. In other words, the data rate decreases even faster as the distance increases between the spacecraft and the base station.  Taters probably didn’t understand how important it was that he catch the laser – but he was trying his best anyway.Credit – NASA / Associated Press YouTube Channel A second phase of the experiment will pick up in November when the laser transceiver is turned back on again. At that point, it will prove the system can operate for more than a year, and eventually, the system will be brought up into full operational mode later in 2024. Psyche is scheduled to arrive at its target asteroid in 2029, so the team will have plenty of time to prep their system for operation before that time. There is also a backup radio frequency communication system on Psyche in case the laser system fails – and even that is still faster than lanterns and shutters. Learn More:NASA JPL – NASA’s Laser Comms Demo Makes Deep Space Record, Completes First PhaseUT – Psyche Gives Us Its First Images of SpaceUT – We’re Entering a New Age When Spacecraft Communicate With LasersUT – NASA’s Psyche Mission is off to Asteroid Psyche Lead Image:NASA’s Psyche spacecraft is depicted receiving a laser signal from the Deep Space Optical Communications uplink ground station at JPL’s Table Mountain Facility in this artist’s concept. The DSOC experiment consists of an uplink and downlink station, plus a flight laser transceiver flying with Psyche. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech The post NASA Achieves Impressive Bandwidth with its New Laser Communications System appeared first on Universe Today.

[magic-is-something-we-create]

ANDESITE (ANDY) MEYWIN - The Millennium Saga [Firebreathers ; Echoseers ; Goddess-Touched]

My brainstorming makes a spiral around the table, still entirely illegible and layered upon itself, despite the ample room I’ve been given. Still not enough, because even after sending calls for spare Haethrite and Voltimony across the continent, I haven’t pieced together a design that we could test without fear of losing all we have. Today, though, I have another expert in the room to help. Unfortunately, Ember seems as lost in my technical work as they would be on one of the moons.

Basics:

She/her - Trans woman

Sapphic (her sexuality is an enigma but she likes cougars) - 22 (~24 on Earth)

Mae Ehlf - Air Mage

Heavily Autistic-coded

Where she begins:

We first meet Andy when she's in the midst of brainstorming a radio design for her younger siblings to use with Ember's so they can talk late into the night without risking the over-policed streets past curfew. And this context is where we most often see her: deep in her own thoughts, working on some device or another made from discarded scraps scrounged from the more prestigious forges in the area, augmented with Goblin technology rather than the extremely expensive Soulvite expected of proper Starsmiths.

But she makes it work. Most of the time.

Her masterpiece, Wrench--a dragon automaton built to act as security for her rented studio space--still doesn't know not to eat any and all fabric within reach, but Andy's confident she'll find a fix for that. Eventually.

What she finds herself confronting:

Andy's impact on the story is instant and massive, even if she doesn't become a narrator until book three: she's the one who gives the others a safe avenue to determine whether Ember's invitation to the rebellion is legitimate via Wrench, and who negotiates a rather underhanded deal with Emerald K'Ron in exchange for her own services to the Rebellion.

She wants an audience with Eternal Veratrum.

She's always been relentlessly curious, after all. And when the opportunity presents itself, she will always leap on the chance to learn something she's been wondering about.

This is how she blackmails her way into the rebellion. This is how she strongarms her way into the top-secret mission in Glittergale. This is how she sneaks her way onto the ship headed to Deltierin.

This is how she's thrust into the role of saving the world with nothing but scrap metal, her own vague notes, and an ever-ticking timer to reverse engineer her observations before the sea swallows the world whole.

Important connections:

Family: Gab and Annie (triplets), Dian, Iggy, Quartz, and Slate Meywin. Aurora and Mahann Meywin-Tell (parents).

Friends: Nimbus (best friend) and Ember Timber, Beta Altiana.

Enemies: K'Ron Actaea (once she finds out about Actaea's whole deal), Eternal Tieling of Nimia (on principle; also, she thinks he's annoying)

MUSIC

Themes - DRUMS OF GANJA-TAI by Kevin Penkin, Science by Two Steps from Hell and Thomas Bergersen, Dashing and Bashing by Gareth Coker

Vibes - The Flood by aeseaes, Streaks by ANIMA!, Cargo by Puppet

[unikron-kitten-kat]

Cabin Chase:: Part 1 .. 11 .. 111

Plans Into Fruition

Zackary leaves the Manor to make his way to the target location, still blissfully unaware of his Boss's plans for when he gets there. Meanwhile, Slenderman is setting his plans to motion, occasionally glancing from his dwindling paperwork to view the cameras watching the driveway.

Warnings: Sex talk, Slenderman, perv behavior mentioned [I think that's it]

Reminders: Zackary is trans, but I have never before written a trans character since I started writing for him, please exscuse any mistakes I make and kindly and politely correct me in comments or an ask, I am trying ;-;

It was amply raining, enough Zack had to turn his wipers on to see through the windshield. The road ahead was long, and he knew it well enough to know hardly anybody drove this stretch at this hour. He had planned ahead, knowing it would be quite a while before he got to his destination, so bought an extra gas can or two for the return trip, and snacks for the road.

He was currently snapping a kit-kat in two, sucking off the chocolate before chewing the wafer. He sighed, stared tiredly ahead at the dark road bordered by thick trees. He was surprised Slenderman didn't quite know the area, it's the kind of place Zack knew he'd like.

Zack was swigging down a bottled water, trying to stimulate himself to keep from falling asleep at the wheel. He figured radio music might help, but after turning it on, he either found static silence, or music he found he'd drowned out. So his own music would suffice, only his phone wasn't getting service, and his songs were buffering every five seconds.

With a heavy, defeated sigh, he stopped trying, opting to just keep his eyes on the road. The low drone of the car wasn't helping, neither the heat. It was currently Autumn, but Zack didn't feel like freezing an ear off to keep himself awake, so he absent-mindedly turned the heat down, and dropped his coat, struggling to unbuckle and even get the thing off while also trying to keep himself in his lane and on the road.

After that cerfuffle, he snapped an energy drink open as a second-to-last resort, taking occasional swigs of the lemon-sweet drink. After a five minute pause of him trying to keep himself awake and stimulated, he suddenly wondered who the hell was living there now?

He knew the place Slenderman sent him to all because his Uncle used to live there, but dipped soon after, claiming the place was haunted and unsafe.

He figured someone dangerous enough. Zack wasn't the last line necessarily, but he quickly found the value Slenderman held him at by what missions he was sent on, and he came to the conclusion that his missions where of the more 'something serious and dangerous is happening, even Ej couldn't handle it.', and usually, the Demon group where the "Oh, shit's bad" missions, so to surpase them in that "ranking", so to speak, was no easy feat.

He soon realized his pondering had passed the time as he noticed the roof of the old place peeking past the treetops, the driveway was now hard to miss, Zack nearly fishtailed trying to turn enough.

.

.

Slenderman glanced up at the sound of a monotone ding, huffing an amused chuckle as he realized Zack was making his up the driveway now.

So, he cleared his desk, adjusting a few of the moniters he had BEN set up. BEN needn't know why, so Slenderman didn't tell him the reasoning behind these.

Through the monitor, he saw Zack slink in, quiet as ever.

He supposes that's something he always like about Zack, his lighter build allowed him to be dexterous and quiet, he'd even snuck up on the Halfling Being a few times, though Slenderman would never admit it.

He waited for Zack to start climbing the stairs, then, he picked up his phone.

.

.

Zack heard the loud ringing of the landline in the hallway. Not where he remembered it being during his visits to his uncle, must mean other people lived here after he left.

Then, the telltale 3-toned ding sounded among the ringing, telling Zack he better not let the caller wait.

With a click, he had the phone up to his ear.

"Yeah, Boss?"

{I see you have arrived..}

"Yeah, is the victim ou-" {[chuckle] You know Zack, being what I am, having the senses I do, I hear things, smell things, you don't.}

"Wh.. What's that got to do with this?"

{Hmp.. You don't think I ever smelled you? Smelled your.. Arousal? That I never heard your pathetic little whimpers when I scorned you?}

Zack was speechless, and Slenderman could only see the tremble of his shoulders through the camera. He leaned back in his chair, enjoying this exchange.

{I know the area, Zack. I know it well enough to know where best to put cameras...}

Zack tensed.

{I saw you drive up, saw you enter the door, climb the stairs...}

Slenderman chuckled again, this one throatier, deeper.

{Do you forget what I can do, Zack? That I can.. Peer into minds? Read thoughts? See imagery one wouldn't want me too?}

Zack flushed, knowing what he was talking about, hoping it wasn't.

{I have seen what you think of, or rather, try to get me not to see.. Don't think I haven't heard you getting off to them either..}

Zack was gripping the phone rather tightly, turning his head to the side.

{You know, Zack... Even now I can hear your quickened heartbeat, and your trembling breathing..}

Zack hovered his arm over his mouth, his breathing getting heavy.

{Silent.. As always when I confront you...}

More silence from Zackary.

{Zack, you really need to pay attention to your windows..}

Zack's eyes widened, and his cheeks grew darker, but Slenderman couldn't see that.

{Hhm, yes, your room may not be on the bottom floor, but it is still certainly visable from the trees...}

Slenderman saw Zack tremble more, bringing his arm to hold his side.

{Do you like skirts and onsies, Zack?}

Zack's breath was quick and trembled, he was sweating, not profusely, and he was redder than a tomato.

{How often do you get those thoughts, Zack? Those thoughts of.. Me?}

Zack swallowed.

{How often do you want it to happen? How often do you want me to bend you over something?}

Slenderman could sed now that Zack's whole body was shaking. He would be appearing there.. Soon.

{How often do you drip at the thought? How often do you touch yourself, wishing it was my hand?}

Zack couldn't stand much more of it.

"B-boss-"

Zack gasped as he was suddenly pushed onto the drawer table, knocking everything else off, and being pinned to it.

The large hand across his back applied just the faintest more pressure as the assailant bent down.

"How often? Hmm? Its a simple question, no?"

Zack whimpered, hiding his face in his arms. His legs were shaking, so much so they were going numb.

He drew in a breath through clenched teeth at the touch of a hot hand on the inside of his thigh, the thumb rubbing circles.

"Answer me, Zack.."

Slenderman's voice waa soft, tender, like he was talking to a lost puppy.

Slenderman nestled his face into the crook of Zack's neck, forcing Zack to move his arm away, to give him more room. Zack whimpered at the feel of the flat to Slenderman's mouth resting on the back of his neck.

Zack shuddered as another hand rubbed up his leg, over the curve of his thigh and ass, and then over his back, drawing up his shirt and sweater.

"A..... A lot.... "

Zack's voice was so small, Slenderman barely heard it.

"Hmm? What was that, Zack?"

"A... A lot.."

The being hummed, kissing the back of Zack's neck tenderly.

"A lot what? Hmm?"

"I.. I thou-think of y... You.. U-um.. Fucking m-me a.. A lot.."

"Ahw.. No need to be so embarrassed Zackary," Slenderman cooed, "besides.. I have a fun night planned.."

The Slenderman gingerly wrapped a hand around Zack's neck, pulling him up enough he stood straight, pulling his body flush with his own.

"Why don't you go upstairs? There is something up in the master bedroom I want you to change into.."

Zack's body locked up, his eyes wide and face red.

He gasped, having to be held up by Slender's arms as he nearly fell, when Slenderman gingerly trailed his tongue up Zack's neck.

"I think it'll be really cute on you Zack, very cute on you..."

Zack shook, breath shaking too.

"You like onsies, right Zack?"

[blitzbuckz]

Has it been a few days? A week? Practically radio silence between the pair. Stolas has left Blitz to his own devices, and he himself had kept busy enough. Or perhaps. . . . Merely waiting for the opportune moment. With experience folding long limbs into small spaces, the prince has masterfully hid himself beneath the desk Blitz operated from [ albeit, he did hit his head a time or two in his adjusting ]. Red eyes narrowed to near slits, pleased with his success thus far. Hiding was half the trick, after all. He would, of course, also have to avoid the imp's feet or rogue swish of tail.

But in that perfect moment, that little second in which Blitz is comfortable or distracted by everything and anything else around him, Stolas will partially unfold himself, head twisting 'round with shrill cry in an attempt to startle ! ☆

【𐂃】 it wasn't a full moon yet, even so-- if Stolas gave him the slightest of leeway to not visit, he would instantly take it. Deciding not to show up until the next moon. It was what they agreed on after all, he wasn't going to bend the rules over a sudden whim from a thirsty owl. Plus, he had more important matters to tend to. Like finishing his 120th doodle of his trans horses! ... but, first thing's first, he had to clear up his desk.

Propping into his chair the assassin began splitting paperwork. Assorting stacks for Moxx to do later && separating those missions which were already accomplished. The spade of his tail flicking below, overall seeming content with his productivity for the day-- that is, until a dark entity loomed from underneath his workspace.

He had all his assorted papers in hands, pressed against his chest as he felt his heart's pulse race profoundly. Chills running down his spiked up spine when the figure, without warning, sprung out of hiding with the most horrid cryptid shriek he has ever heard! Compelling the imp to burst out screaming as he flung his papers at them on impulse. reflexes prompted, preparing to use his two elevated legs to kick the fiend intruding his office. his bubble space. Until... he got a pretty good look at who the culprit was.

❝ WHAT. THE. FUUCK STOLAS!!!! NO, NO -- HAVE YA COMPLETELY LOST IT?!? WE'RE NOT DOIN' THIS DON'T Y' DARE FUCKIN' TOUCH ME-- I JUST HAD MY DESK CLEARED UP!! -- 'N DON'T GIVE ME THAT HAPPY HALLOWEEN BULLSHIT IT'S NOT FOR ANOTHER WEEK, BITCH! ❞