#trying to keep them short but it's not working

[cancerian]

Sorry to OP for the political take, but I will proceed nonetheless.

The statement would make sense if Africans or non- western nations were the sole victim to the imperial/colonial west. The reality is harsh. The reality is that for every person that carries this view, there is another person willing to hold the western world to a high pedestal and relinquish them of their evil (which might seem like what I am doing, but let’s try to keep up and be honest for a few minutes). As nation states (political science term) we must learn to take accountability and learn from how our short coming benefit the “evil oppressor” west. *also when I refer to the west I am referring to the government or political powers.*

Thomas Sankara, Lumumba, and many other unknown leaders would not have met the fate they did had it not been for a selfish fellow country man. Yes, the west infiltrated their nations, but infiltration only works if there is a crack in the group. Belgium, France, and the CIA killed lumumba, but it was made possible by Morocco’s military (read the killing of lumumba) and the black leaders in Congo. In an effort to gain power, they chose to not only kill their fellow countryman (who was seeking peace for the nation), but also help plunge the country into a state of destitution it has never moved away from (argue with your mom, Congo is and will always be the biggest and most ignored humanitarian crisis). The same goes for Sankara, peoples need for power allows them to sacrifice the people of whom they should be advocating for. So, yes, let’s blame the western world for its wrongs, but let’s not act like we don’t have our own short coming that aide in creating the strong western influence in non- western nations.

Now to the point of the post, terrorism and immigration are not threats created and imposed by the western world. Xenophobia transcends borders, South Africa and its xenophobia against other *specifically black* immigrants; if you want to blame someone for your problems you have a large white and Asian populations taking away your resources over there in South Africa. Zambia, has a long history of violence and xenophobia against black immigrants. The list goes on for many other nations. These are not creations of the western world per se, these are a result of a lack of education, accountability, and simply the reality of living in a capitalist society. Placing blame on the west does not take away the fact that nationalism and capitalism breeds hate even in African, Asian, Latino (Hispanic, South American), and many other nations. it's not a western problem, it is a worldly problem. Also how do you argue terrorism? When Nigeria and Kenya have been attacked by terrorist groups, that claim to fight against western values. exactly what western values? women being given partial freedoms (partial because western women are not as free as they are made to look), freedom to an education and therefor a personal income. what freedoms are they fighting exactly? Two things can be true at once, yes the west is an evil super power that creates problems, but so is religious extremism (christianity, islam, Judaism, hinduism, etc.,) that breeds terrorism. These are not fears created or imposed by the west, these are fears of any nation having to interact with other nations. In the name of hating the western world, we end up praising our new oppressors and imperialist (China, Russia, etc.,). Two wrongs don’t make a right.

[envyangelic]

˚* ˚ ✦STEEL AND SILK * ˚ ✦ ˚

・❥・Violet “Vi” x Reader

・❥・Warnings: smut, minor descriptions of violence

・❥・Summary: Working at a brothel in the heart of Zaun, you find yourself drawn to a new regular who so happens to be a reckless pit fighter seeking solace in your expertise.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Babette’s brothel is so much more than just a whorehouse- it’s a crossroads full of expensive secrets. In the hallways of the brothel, the most powerful people of Zaun float in between the rooms of different women and men.

There’s always a crowd in the brothel. People let things slip when they feel safe and relaxed. That’s your job. Of course, it’s not the ideal job that you’ve always dreamed of but it pays better than most and you gain leverage over the powerful people of Zaun. It’s not like you have much of an option when all the prices in the Undercity are sky rocketing.

After a while, you’ve become numb to the touch of strangers. The other workers always lookout for one and another and Babette doesn’t stand for violence. It’s one big dysfunctional family. You’ve gotten used to it all and have started to have regulars that respect you. You try your best not to get too close them but a particular new regular has caught your eye.

Her name is Vi. She has this red pinkish hair that she decided to dye black in an impulsive rage. Still her red hair shines through the cheap dye shining a spotlight of who she used to be. A tattoo of her name underneath her eye and piercings scattered on her body. She’s a pit fighter for one of Zauns notorious illegal fighting ring hidden in the dark corners of the undercity. You always prefer the women customers over the men but Vi attracts you in an alluring way.

Your meetings usually happen after her fights. She’s bloody and drunk seeking comfort anyway possible. Sometimes she comes in before fights to scoop details about the other fighters strategies.

Here she is again, stumbling into your dimly lit room on a late Friday night. The faint tang of iron fills the room. Her lip is busted and her nose leaks dark red. She smells like cheap whiskey and looks as if she has been drinking bottle to bottle.

Her knuckles are split open and bruised but she pays no attention to the pain that tightens her body.

“Hell of a night, huh?” You ask as you pat the spot next to you on the love seat. She can’t help it when her eyes trail up and down your body. You’re practically wearing nothing. Like usual, you’re wearing a cropped v neck tank top with an open back and matching shorty shorts. She lets out a deep sigh and shuts her eyes.

She collapses on the soft plush next to you. You lean over the coffee table and pull the medical kit out from the tiny compartment. You started keeping one ever since Vi started her visits.

“I’m taking that you didn’t win tonight.” You state as you open the latch of the medical kit. Her face doesn’t change- not a flicker of pride or shame, just her same old steady stone cold mask.

“In the end, I’m still here aren’t I?” She rasps in a deep voice. You pick out a white bandage and a cloth. You sit against Vi’s clothed thighs and brings your hand to her face. You caress her cheek as you dab away the blood on her lips.

She slightly opens her eyes watching your movements. “Who did you fight?” You ask while you wipe away the remaining blood. “Doesn’t matter, doll.” She leans into your soft touch.

She started calling you that after her first visit there. Always dressed up in prettiest of garments and hair perfect as can be. You look like a doll to her. Perfect and pristine. She wonders how you ever ended up in a place like this. You’re too good for here.

She brings her calloused hand up to your hair. It’s neatly up in a bun with some bobby pins pressed against it to hold the hair. “Why haven’t I ever seen you with your hair down?” She coos in a low voice.

Your lips upturn into a sly smile. “Maybe because you never asked.” You state as you place the bloody cloth on the glass table infront of the loveseat. The warmth of your skin radiates on Vi. You lean back touching your shoulder to hers. Only inches away from her face your eyes meet hers.

“I’m asking now.” She loops her finger into your hair band and unravels it slowly before throwing the hairband somewhere next to you.

Your hair falls down onto your shoulders and cascades around your face. She plucks the bobby pins out and places them on the table. You let out a small laugh.

She takes it all in, her sharp gaze lingering longer than usual. The way your hair falls around your shoulders. You push your hair back with a deep sigh.

“Long day for you too?” She asks while twirling a stray strand of your hair. There’s a rasp in her voice, a splinter of vulnerability shining through her bloody battered state.

“Yeah well.. you know how it is here.” She pushes the stray hair strand behind your ear. “Anyways, I heard some big shot talking about your next fight.” She tenses up while you continue.

“I don’t care. Not tonight.” She says while you start to pull her black jacket off. You peel it away slowly feeling the worn fabric under your grip.

You throw the jacket over the side of the couch. Your fingers trace the black ink on her bruised skin. Her eyes follow them. Then they flicker to your face again.

She can’t help but feel an overwhelming attraction towards you. A gratifying force pulling her to you. She grabs onto your hand freezing you in your place.

She can’t take this anymore. She needs you against her. Her gaze locks with yours. The air between the two of you thickens, charged with an energy you can’t fight.

She lets go of your hand and wraps it into your hair. She crashes onto your lips moving in a hungry rhythm. Your hands wrap against her back. Her hands loop with your tank top. She unravels from your lips to lift the tank top off of you.

It slides off with ease. She takes a moment to appreciate the scene in front of her. Your chest rises and falls. She ducks down to your neck pressing chaste kisses.

You let out a soft gasp as she travels further. Her touch hand latches onto your breast and she nips at the sensitive spot of your neck. A rush of euphoria makes your head spin.

You need more, she needs more.

Her breath is hot against your skin sending shivers down your spine. She ignites a fire inside of you. Her finger leaves your chest and travels below your shorts.

She lets out a deep laugh against your skin feeling how soaked you are. Her finger dives deeper. Your lips press against her ear. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be making you feel like this..” you whisper.

“You know it’s so much more fun for the both of us when I do it, doll.” She pulls you back in for a hungry kiss. Her fingers curl inside of you.

You let out a hushed moan. Her hands explore your body like your body is new territory. Time to seems to blur, your heart beats in your ears. Her fingers leave your warmth.

You sigh unable to form words as she pulls off the shorts that already barely cover you. Her hands drag down to your thighs slowly torturing you with the prolonging absence of her touch.

The shorts are thrown with the rest of your forgotten clothes. Her hands stop at your hips and she grabs them. She moves you down the couch and starts to press kisses further and further down.

The warmth in between your legs continues to grow. Flutters of arousal beat inside your chest. She finally makes her way to your heat. She ducks down in between your legs. Your thighs instinctively tighten around her head.

Her hot breath lingers around your center. Her lips press against you. You gasp lightly and your hands travel into her hair. Her tongue swirls around your core carefully. She always knows just what riles you up.

“I know you like it just like that, doll.” She cockily teases you. She can’t help but smirk seeing your flushed face.

Between breathy moans you moan her name quietly as she inches you closer over the edge. She slides her tongue up sending you over but slows down.

“Fuck.. Vi..” You whisper under your pants. She picks up your pace. You grab onto her hair pulling her closer. A burst of an intense sensation paralyzes you.

You press her down further arching your back. She keeps at her pace until your pathetic humps stop and your body twitches. She leans up from her position to catch you in a quick kiss.

You can barely keep up with her rhythm as she crawls on top of you. Her red hair falls infront of her face. She leans away from the kiss and deep down all you want is for her to stay.

She drops her head on your chest taking in the warmth of your body. For a moment the pain of her wounds melt away. She doesn’t think of Caitlyn but only of you. Your breath slows down matching with her.

She tries not to dwell on the fact that this experience is something you always have when working at the brothel. To her you’re not just the hooker from the brothel. You’re just a desperate girl doing whatever it takes.

Just like her.

——————————————-

I couldn’t find any Pitfighter Vi gifs which is disappointing bc she’s so fine in her emo era

[sweetshuga]

✰ 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒆𝒙 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 ✧

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂. «𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆»

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. English is not my first language!

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝒃𝒇.ᐟ𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕... loves to see your cock-drunk face as he pounds into you while hugging your thighs with your back flush against the fogged up mirror.

𝒘𝒄. 337

✰ Matt’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he held your thighs tightly, your legs up in the air on one side of his shoulders and his arms wrapped in an iron grip around them—rendering you immobile. Your moans echoed throughout the bathroom as he pulled your hips forward, changing the angle and every thrust from him hit the spot inside you that made your toes curl. Your hands scrambled to hold onto anything you could, your shoulders flush against the fogged up mirror behind you. The overwhelming pleasure making your mind go numb.

𝑨 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓... You had just gotten out of the shower when he suddenly walked in. Matt’s face flushed when he saw your naked form, even though he’s seen it plenty of times by now. "Sorry—" you chuckled when you heard the slightly panicked tone, "hey, it’s fine, should’ve locked the door, but since Chris and Nick are out I thought it was alright, no?" He nodded slowly, his eyes raking over your body appreciatively before snapping back up to your face. A sheepish grin plastered on his lips as he shifted his weight on one leg, trying to discreetly hide the growing arousal in his pants. You raised your eyebrows, noticing the telltale signs of his desire right away.

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕... You struggled to keep your eyes from rolling back as he worked his magic. The thick head of his length hit spots that made you let out sounds even you didn’t know you could make. The sounds of your pleasure spurred him on, grunting in exertion as he surged forward with renewed vigor. Determined to please you. "Fu—ck sweets, you feel me?" His arm left your thighs, and with gentle fingers, pressed on the bulge appearing and disappearing on your abdomen from his cock. His gaze momentarily shifted from your stomach to your face, a groan leaving his lips when he saw the look of pure ecstasy on your face. "Look at you, so fucking drunk on my dick, mffh—" ✰

𓆩♡𓆪

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝒃𝒇.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... loves when your ass recoils against his hips when he pounds into you from behind, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulling on it until you look up at your fucked-dumb reflection in the mirror.

𝒘𝒄. 362

✧ Chris groaned lowly as he drew back before slamming hard into you. Your backside recoiled from the force and your legs trembled, loud moans spewing out of your parted lips. He bit his lips, putting his hand on the small of your back and firmly pressing on it. The edge of the countertop in front of your upper thighs only made it easier for him to go as deep as he wanted without your body bouncing away. Your eyes rolled back in your skull before closing shut and reopening a few seconds later, widened like saucers when he increased his pace. Your hand travelled back in a futile attempt to slow him down, your moans nothing short of pornographic.

𝑨 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓... Nick and Matt had gone to get food. They did ask you if you wanted to tag along, but you just wanted to stay in and Chris being Chris, your sweet boyfriend, decided to stay home with you. As much as you wanted to keep cuddling with your boyfriend on the couch – cozied up in blankets – you really had to pee. And so, you disentangled yourself from Chris with a heavy sigh, "I’ll be right back, gotta piss." You could hear him chuckling and shouting an "okay" from his place on the couch as you walked towards the bathroom. A few minutes later, you heard the bathroom door opening while you washed your hands. A pair of hands pushing you down to bend over the counter.

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕... Chris’ free hand tangled in your locks, gripping it into a make-shift ponytail before pulling on it. Your head involuntarily leaned back, your thoroughly-pleasured expression reflecting in the mirror. Chris’ pace quickened, the sound of wet squelching filling the air as he pounded into your sopping pussy from behind. "Look at that, baby," he cooed as he saw your face in the mirror, "look at yourself, the fucked dumb look on your face." He grunted as he pulled your hair with more force, making you look at yourself and a loud shaky moan left his lips when he felt your walls flutter rhythmically around his pistoning cock. ✧

𓆩♡𓆪

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© sweetshuga

[azrielbrainrot]

Take Me Back To Eden

Pairing: Shadow King!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Throne Sex

Description: You've dreamt of the day Azriel would come back home for so long that you find yourself at a loss now that it actually happened. Luckily, it all falls into place as soon as your eyes meet his.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, throne sex, some fingering, some dirty talk, you know the usual

Word Count: 4,2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This was originally supposed to be a rhys story but there will be plenty more opportunities to write about throne sex with him. Also this ended up actually having some plot and extremely fluffy. Hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

The halls of this castle are intimately familiar to you, having walked them a thousand times over when your closest friend lived here with his family and a thousand more working here as a maid, keeping an eye on the palace and its new residents while Azriel and his allies found a way to take back his power and his rightful seat on the throne.

You've worked tirelessly for this moment, dreamed of it more times than you could ever count, but now that the walls were painted in the traitors' blood and his intoxicating scent permeates the halls once again, you found yourself at a loss, slowly making your way to the throne room to meet him, one foot in front of the other, letting your body guide you as your mind wandered.

Azriel has been by your side for as long as you can remember, even before you truly knew what him being the heir to the Shadow Throne truly meant. Your father was exceptional at his job, landing him not only the position of Head Healer of the kingdom but also the King's private healer. This meant he spent a lot of his time at the palace, becoming an important figure in the court.

Azriel's father was cruel, manipulative and nothing short of terrifying. As much as you resented your father, you could understand why he was too scared to go against his wishes, always following every order without question, even when that included bringing you to the palace to be the heir's friend whether you liked to or not.

When your father first told you of the King's decision to let you and Azriel be friends since you were about the same age and he thought you'd be a good influence on him, you had been scared out of your wits, crying your eyes out and begging him not to take you with him, all in vain of course. You had never met Azriel before and so you expected him to be just as heartless as his father and older brothers, no one you ever wanted to spend any time with let alone befriend.

The stories circulating the kingdom weren't kind to him either - people talked of the bastard's son with poorly concealed disdain, about how he had lived locked in a tower, barely taken care of for most of his life until against all odds the shadow's chose him as successor instead of his full noble-blooded brother's; everyone seemed to think he wasn't worthy of the throne since he was the son of a maid and barely educated, completely neglected since birth, but alas the shadows had made their decision, and no one, not even the King, could go against their wishes.

Azriel was a shadow of the male he is now when you met him, too shy and traumatized to even look you in the eye or speak a word to you, sticking to the corners of the room, hiding himself as best as he could in the midst of his shadows. You were only nine when you met him, a year younger than him, and even then you couldn't imagine all the pain he had gone through, vowing to help him and stay by his side as you watched him cower away from the light, dressed in expensive clothing as if that would hide all the pain and suffering he had been subjected to.

Actually befriending him was harder than you initially thought. You spent countless days simply trying to get him to speak a word to you, almost wearing yourself out as you talked and talked, about anything and everything, trying to find something that would catch his attention and get him used to your presence. Gradually he started opening up more, answering your questions with a nod or shake of his head, and then a word or two, until bit by bit you started having full conversations, his voice rising in volume with time as well. His other lessons helped make him more confident in himself too as he found his place in the world.

Azriel told you about his mother and how much he missed her; about the treatment he endured in that cold tower and how sometimes he still wished he was there instead of next to his father; how his older brother's retaliated for not being chosen by burning his hands when he was only a child who didn't even know what it meant, how his hands still ached at the smell of fire and just the sight of the marred skin sent a stabbing pain through his heart, keeping them concealed with leather gloves most of the time. It was only years later when he let you see them and hold them in your own, the same night he told you he had been sneaking outside the palace, making other friends and traveling his kingdom as far as his wings allowed him, taking you with him for the first time.

The days you spent sneaking away with him and the new friends you made were some of the best of your life, the only ones where you had truly felt free, but sadly they wouldn't last. Shortly after Azriel came of age, his oldest brother killed his father and seized the throne, chasing Azriel and every sympathizer out of the palace and forcing him to go into hiding. You've barely seen him since then, only managing a few secret meetings over the years while he prepared to take back his crown.

Your father had been among the casualties and your family's sudden fall from grace landed you a job cleaning the palace where that hateful usurper now lived. Unwilling to resign yourself to serving the male who almost killed the only person you've ever loved, you started working as a spy, sending out encrypted letters about the movements within the palace and any important information you could get your hands on to hopefully help Azriel as much as you could.

Of course when he found out you were putting yourself in danger like that, he flew over to your house despite the search parties still raking through every corner of the kingdom. It had been the last time you spent more than a few hours with him and most of those had been spent fighting, but the memory brought a smile to your lips all the same. Even though you were screaming until your voices became hoarse, it was clear that it all stemmed from your love for each other and how worried both of you were at just the thought of the other being in danger. Azriel had also left your house with a chaste kiss to your lips, a line you had never crossed before, and a whispered promise of surviving and coming back for you, for his throne.

Taking the last turn to the throne room, you find yourself in the present, every other thought escaping your mind when you hear his voice muffled behind the door, heart swelling in your chest instantly. You only caught a glimpse of him when he first stormed the palace grounds earlier that night, unable to linger and watch as you needed to fulfill your role and help every innocent bystander escape through the back doors.

Judging by the blood and the few corpses still scattered throughout the halls, you missed a hard-won battle, but the lack of urgency in the sentry sent by Azriel to get you told you there weren't any severe injuries to worry about, among your friends at least. As excited as you had been for tonight, the thought that Azriel could get hurt kept you up for days.

The smell of smoke still lingered in the air and you found yourself twisting your hands together, wondering if the smell still brought him the same awful memories, wondering if you still knew him after all this time, if it would all be the same.

Raising a shaky hand to open the door, you find five pairs of eyes falling on you as soon as the room is revealed to you, hands reaching for their swords before noticing it was you and not any lingering soldiers, still on high alert from the fight. Their reaction makes you pause, startled momentarily before taking another step into the room when their serious faces turn into smiles.

It had been a long time since you've seen the neighboring kingdom's prince, - King, you correct yourself, - his general and his cousin. You've met them when you used to sneak out with Azriel, spent countless nights together causing harmless trouble as youths do. They had been with Azriel when you couldn't, helping him get to this point from the front lines while you stayed behind in the palace. Amren also stood by their side, the centuries old mage looked as unnerving and unruffled as ever, perhaps the best kind of ally Azriel could ask for.

Speaking of, your eyes quickly dart around the room, finding those beautiful hazel eyes at last, heart stalling in your chest when you find them already expecting yours. Azriel was sitting on the throne, on his throne, clad in black leathers as his shadows lazed around his body. His shoulders had gotten broader and his powerful wings were sitting up high behind him, unbelievably large, the blood of his enemies still staining his armor - the perfect image of a King.

A smile falls over his stupidly handsome face when his eyes meet yours, standing up to greet you immediately. This sets you in motion, your steps speeding up as your body carries you to him, barely acknowledging the rest of your friends as they excused themselves with knowing smiles, closing the door behind themselves just as you walked up the last steps to the throne, throwing your arms around Azriel's neck, a gleeful chuckle escaping him, catching you in his arms effortlessly, wings wrapping themselves around you as well.

It was almost overwhelming being able to hold him in your arms after so long, feeling his warmth against your body, his scent assaulting your senses as you breathe him in, vowing to never let him leave you behind ever again. You're unsure how much time passes before he pulls away, gently prying your face from his neck so he can study your teary-eyed expression intently, one arm still wrapped around your waist as he takes you in.

Gods, you almost forgot how downright mesmerizing he was. From this close you could count his eyelashes and every green speck in his hazel eyes, if you moved just a breath closer, your nose would bump against his, another one and his lips would fall on yours. His hand craddled your cheek, his bare hand you noted, the rough, familiar texture sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers caressed your skin softly.

“We did it,” you breathe out, watching the smile on his face grow even wider, a breathtaking sight. He leans down, kissing your other cheek and murmuring the same words back at you against your skin, relief clinging to every word.

His body was still somewhat tense against yours, wings tightening behind him every so often as his breath came out in puffs, his lips peppering small kisses from your cheek up to your forehead and then down to your jaw, trying to reach every bit of skin while you tried to check him for injuries or any other sign of discomfort, remembering he had just come back from battle.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

Azriel simply shakes his head against you in lieu of an answer, tucking himself deeper into the crook of your neck, breathing your scent in again, his hold on your body tightening as well.

“Is it too much to bear?”

When his brother took over he didn't only steal his father's shadows but also Azriel's. It had been strange to see him without those wisps of darkness clinging to his form, unnerving even, and you know that becoming accustomed to not having them by his side was the hardest trial for him to overcome. But now that his brother was dead and he finally sat on his throne, his shadows had returned to him at last, and the ones who were once his father's followed them.

“Could be worse,” he says, a shudder betraying his attempt at a leveled tone. “They like the scent of blood.”

A tremble runs through your treacherous body, the low timber of his voice as he spoke against your skin, lips brushing you with every word making it hard to keep your mind working properly. He hums at your body's reaction, tongue peaking out to lick over your pulse point, feeling your heart racing faster and faster under him.

“Azriel-”

“They like yours even more. Always did.”

The confession hangs in the air as he continues to lap up at your skin, his teeth coming out to play and mark you ever so softly, teasing your supple skin. It looked like he was barely restraining himself, trying his best to hold onto sanity while you trembled in his arms.

You knew having this many shadows suddenly singing to him had to be extremely overwhelming after so long stuck in silence, the power that came with them and now also rumbled under his skin even more so. He needed an outlet, and you both knew the blood he already spilled wasn't nearly enough.

“Let me help you.”

The groan that escaped him echoed around the room, pulling away from your neck with a harsh bite and finding your lips before you could even react, finally unleashing himself at your proposal. His shadows followed his lead as always, falling over your body as he did, twisting and turning as they roamed over you. A frenzy overtook you as well, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you, needing to feel him under your skin, so deep he wouldn't be able to escape ever again.

The lights deemed even further around you, until only the moonlight filtered through his shadows, making it hard to see when you managed to pull away and take a breath, your eyes blinking as you tried to watch him in the dark. He had no such problem of course, unashamedly studying your face as you recovered, biting your bottom lip and licking at the drool gathered in the corners of your mouth, moaning at the way your scent deeped with arousal and mingled with his own.

The lines had always been blurred at best between the two of you, fear the only thing keeping them intact in the first place, but now you didn't have to worry for his or your safety anymore, about what his or your parents would think or do if they found a weakness in the other, now you could finally give in to each other without worries.

It had always been a poorly concealed secret how much you wanted each other anyway, and now that nothing was stopping you and he was finally in your arms, you could barely keep this craving down. You could only imagine what it felt like for him with the addition of the new untamed power running through his veins and the pesky shadows whispering in his ear.

Azriel starts walking backwards until he reaches his throne, bringing you along with him for the entire way as he catches your lips between his once again, sending your mind stumbling along with your feet. When he sits down, your body naturally follows to straddle his thighs, and you pull away with a gasp, his hard cock pressing where you need him most.

The maid's uniform you still wore was thrown over your head in a flurry of movements, revealing your unmarked and unobstructed body to his hungry gaze. Unable to stop himself, Azriel leaned closer, sucking a nipple into his mouth as his hands moved all over your body, caressing and grabbing every bit of skin and flesh he could, leaving you tugging at his leathers so you too could rid him of the bothersome clothes blocking your view, as good as you always thought he looked in them.

It's only with a whine of his name and a particularly harsh tug at his black, messy curls that he pulls himself away from you and helps you take the top part of his leathers off. You had been right about his shoulders getting broader, his entire body looked more muscular too. Of course the heir to the throne had been training since he was a child and Azriel had always been a large male, but after having to literally fight to survive, he was left with cleaner muscles, and quite a few scars you had never seen before scattered over his torso, making a mental note to ask him about them later.

He barely gave you any time to fully take him in, moving to unbutton his pants without pause, settling for pushing them down only enough to uncover his throbbing cock, your attention quickly falling on it. Your hand wraps itself around him in curiosity, a delicious shudder running through him as you tighten your hold around his cock, stroking him up and down slowly, reveling in every harsh breath and the pool of desire growing in his eyes.

“I need more, angel.”

Nodding, you agree with him. “Me too.” You needed all of him, needed him to fill you up until he was the only thing you could smell, taste and feel.

He rips your underwear off unceremoniously, inserting two of his fingers inside you as slowly as his frenzied state of mind allows you to, your own body ignoring the slight pang of pain at the sudden intrusion as your hips start rolling into his hand feverishly. You were beyond soaked, the sounds his fingers elicited as he fucked them into you downright sinful as they echoed around the room along with soft moans and gasps of his name.

Azriel seemed transfixed on the way your cunt swallowed his fingers greedily, the hazel in his eyes barely visible around his blown out pupils. Gods, if you didn't stop him you think you would end up cumming entirely too fast which is why as much as it pained you to, you grabbed onto his wrist and stopped his movements, breathing out a rushed “Need you now,” when he looked up at you in question.

You used your grip on his cock to guide him to your entrance, lifting yourself up on your knees as his hands fell over your hips, helping you along, shivering when the head pressed against your cunt. Pressing down on him with a whimper, you let your weight drag you down his length slowly, throwing your head back with a loud moan at the stretch, walls fluttering wildly around him as they struggled to accommodate the delicious intrusion until he finally bottoms out, your body shaking uncontrollably on top of him.

Your lips find his yet again, getting lost in his taste as you start moving against him, his hands grabbing onto your hips hard enough to bruise as he grinds you down on him, breathy whines and moans swallowed in a passionate kiss, only pulling away when you start speeding up, moving up and down his length as his hips start meeting your thrusts, your hands holding onto the arms of the throne for better leverage, the way he was stretching you out and hitting every earth shattering angle threatening to make you lose yourself.

There was no doubt in your mind that anyone that walked by this hall could hear you, but you truly couldn't bring yourself to care about them, or that the walls were still covered in blood, or anything else for that matter. You had waited too long for this, to kiss him like this, to hold him like this, to feel him like this.

“You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of this,” he manages between pants, eyes darting around as he tries to take the maddening sight before him fully, only receiving a feverish moan in response from you, unforgivingly close to the edge as you were.

Hazel eyes darted around your body as he tried to take the maddening sight before him fully, taking note of the way you struggled to keep your eyes on him, mouth agape as the sweetest whines and gasps escaped unattended; the way your body moved with each roll of your hips, breasts bouncing as you did; and how perfectly you fit together, his cock disappearing inside you with every thrust.

His hands move down to your thighs, lifting your hips on his own now, your body simply following his lead, letting him take control as you moan out his name unabashedly. For a moment Azriel thinks his shadows, the crown and even the throne he was sitting on meant nothing if he didn't have you by his side, if he couldn't feel you like this again.

“Are you close, my love?”

One of your hands falls to hold onto his, needing to ground yourself, needing to feel him on every inch of your skin, needing to know this was real. Struggling to even breathe as he repeatedly hits every pleasure spot inside you, leaving you on the brink of madness.

“So close, Az.”

“Let go for me. Show me how sweet reality can be,” he murmurs breathlessly, obviously dangerously close himself. “Need you to give me everything, need to feel you falling apart on my cock.”

And fall apart you did, a gasp escaping your lips as an overwhelming amount of pleasure takes you under, drowning you completely under the waves as the world stands still, your body falling forward and shaking against him. Azriel keeps fucking into you, taking this new position as an opportunity to thrust into you even harder, chasing his own orgasm at the same time he prolongs yours.

You reach a hand out to caress the talon of his wing at the last minute, reminded of how sensitive they were, being immediately rewarded with a delicious whine of your name as he lets go, fucking his cum deep inside you with jerky motions until you were both spent, chests rising and falling against each other as you caught your breaths, meeting halfway in a kiss, his shadows covering your bodies once again.

Pulling away proves to be a monumental task, his lips chasing yours every time you try, having to push against his chest as you straighten your spine, trying to ignore his half hard cock still tucked inside you as he leans back against his throne, letting out a chuckle when he tries to pull you back to him and you send him a poor attempt at a glare, the smile plastered on your face and the fucked out look in your eyes making it less than believable.

“Do you feel better now?”

“I feel perfect,” he sighs dreamily, gazing up at you adoringly as his thumbs draw circles over your heated skin.

“So…” You trail off, not quite knowing what to say in this situation. After dreaming of not only having him back but also making him yours so many times, you couldn't find the right words now that it actually happened. “You're back.”

“I'm back, my love,” he confirms, cupping your cheek once again and rising up to leave a chaste kiss on your lips, the new pet name sending goosebumps traveling across your skin, your heart so full it felt like it would explode out of your ribcage.

“I had a speech ready, you know?”

“A speech?”

“I had every intention of talking to you before this happened, but words won't ever be enough to describe how much I love you.”

His words paired with the look in his eyes were making you beyond giddy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed you once more, drunk on your taste, unable to ever get enough.

“Say it again.”

Azriel lets out a delighted chuckle, pulling away so he can watch your face, taking you in before indulging you as he stares deep into your eyes.

“I love you. I've loved you for as long as I can remember,” he starts, voice soft as he did, “If I hadn't met you I wouldn't have been able to survive my father's cruelty, and if I didn't know you were waiting for me here, I wouldn't have been able to find the strength to come back and take back the throne. I owe you my life.” Tears gather in both of your eyes as he leans his forehead on yours, continuing, “The years I spent away from you were the hardest I've had to endure, and now that I finally have you back by my side, I won't ever let go. I don't want to spend even another second away from you.”

“I love you too,” you breathe, your heart so full it felt like you couldn't contain all your love for him inside.

Azriel kisses you again, tears now streaming down your faces as you cling to each other. He was right, words could never be enough to describe this moment, let alone the love you shared, but you were willing to whisper them as many times as you could until there was no breath left in your lungs.

[teaandcrowns]

fanfiction.net also send emails, though the site itself has devolved into a hot mess imo.

I think there's a really important conversation to be had here around the type of content-as-content that social media has pushed and pushed and pushed on people the last decade or so, to instill some implication that something has to be recent, current, brand shiny new, in order to be worthwhile or worth giving deeper connection and attention to. Content-as-text*, if you will.

Written works—which include fanfiction, yes—are as permanent fixtures as we can get of content-as-text, and they are evergreen in allowing for connection and engagement, and fanfiction is open to this in particular with the capability of comments (and direct messaging).

I think there's another element to this regarding how engagement with content-as-content, which does not seem to encourage in-depth interaction, lengthy discussion, or a series of back and forths between creators and audience or even between members of the audience. Content-as-text, in my mind, is much more encouraging of that, and was also heavily encouraged by Web 1.0 primarily with forums and early Web 2.0 with interactive blogging-forum sites like LiveJournal. Web 3.0, with its focus on constant generation of content (as content), summarily leaves the space and, I would argue more importantly, time for longer and deeper interaction and engagement in its proverbial dust; it is not concerned with how people actually feel about the content so long as they are still consuming the content.

This brings me to a thought concerning what I, and others, have noted as a lack of what I have frequently seen termed "curating your fandom experience." Algorithms now decide what to content-as-content to show based off what you have seen before. There are (virtually) no more chronological feeds. You can only "sleep" functions rather than say, "No." In short, you are no longer the one with the most agency in your online experience if you choose to use or be on certain sites. If this has been someone's primary modality of interacting with any kind of fandom spaces (or any online community spaces), there can almost be no way to have true organic community the way humans have always made community and made connections. You are not encouraged to view something older as still relevant, you are not encouraged to curate your own spaces because you are being given things based off a calculation of your activity, whether or not that is accurate. It's become a commodification of our attention, because so long as we keep consuming, they will keep the conveyor belt of content-as-content churning and turning.

This is a very circumlocutious and somewhat long-winded way of saying that we need to start taking back our spaces, our time, and our attention. Don't sort AO3 by most kudos or most comments; try sorting by first uploaded. Try not sorting at all (after you apply your preferred filters) and go five, ten, twenty pages deep to see what you find. Interact with the content-as-text as it moves you. Choose who you want to follow—use the "blogs you follow" tab on tumblr instead of the "recommended for you." Engage meaningfully with other members of your communities and find others through those connections instead. Use fanfic rec lists made by folks; make your own and share them. Take back your attention, your time, and your spaces.

*by "text" I mean anything that we can experience, read, or view as an audience and think and interact deeply about across modalities, not just written word

not to be "comment on fanfic even if they are oooold"

But I just read a pretty good fic published in 2014-2015 (you know, roughly TEN YEARS AGO) and I was like, damn this is so cool, I have to leave a comment, even if you know, they probably wont see it...

The author replied less than an hour later.

[daisymbin]

i miss you! - choi seungcheol

warnings: none except if you count making out 🤷‍♀️

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: established relationship, fluff!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: taking a short few hours break from reqs writing ✍️

check out my masterlist! // cheol's list

seungcheol stirs beside you as the soft afternoon light filters through the blinds, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulls you closer. his body is warm against yours, and the weight of his presence makes you feel safe and comfortable. you shift slightly, trying to free yourself from his grasp, but he groans softly, tightening his hold.

"don't go yet," he mumbles, his voice thick with pleading. his lips press gently against your neck, and his hand moves up to tangle in your hair, tugging you even closer.

you smile to yourself, but the reminder of your plans pulls you back into reality. you have lunch with your friends soon, and they're waiting for you. you hesitate for a moment, then gently nudge him. "cheol," you whisper, "i need to get up. i'm meeting the girls for lunch, remember?"

he groans again, louder this time, and buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "can’t you stay home?" he whines, his voice still heavy but laced with a hint of desperation. his lips brush over your skin, moving in a soft trail up your neck, as if trying to distract you from your plans. "i miss you. don’t go yet.”

you laugh softly, rolling your eyes at his antics, but he’s not giving up. his lips press more insistently against your skin, his hand sliding to your waist, tugging you back into him as if you’re glued together. "just stay here," he murmurs, his words barely audible against your skin. "i really miss you... like, a lot." his voice has a little whine to it, and you can’t help but smile.

"cheol," you sigh, trying to hide your own amusement. "they’ll be waiting for me."

he pouts, the expression exaggerated and playful, and then he lifts his head slightly, his eyes dark with a teasing glint. "but i’m not ready to let go yet," he says, his voice low and husky. his lips meet yours in a soft, lingering kiss, as if he’s trying to keep you from leaving with just his touch. "i haven’t seen you all week," he whines, rolling over so he’s hovering over you now, his knees trapping you under him, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers lightly brushing your skin. "i miss you so much."

seungcheol isn’t ready to give up. he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes soft but full of that familiar puppy-like sadness. then, before you can even protest, he leans in and presses his lips against yours. it’s a slow, tender kiss, one that makes your heart flutter.

you chuckle into the kiss, pulling away just enough to look at him. “are you trying to get me to stay?” you ask with a playful grin, raising an eyebrow.

seungcheol doesn’t answer right away. instead, he presses a gentle kiss to your neck, then another, slowly trailing up to your jaw. you can feel his lips against your skin, soft and warm, sending little shivers down your spine.

seungcheol pauses, his lips lingering just a breath away from yours. he looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, then shrugs exaggeratedly. hmm, hums, pouting just a little. “is it working?”

you pull away slightly, breathless from his kisses. "but my friends…" you start, but your words falter as he gives you a small pout, then he presses his lips against your skin again, trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing gently.

"can’t we just forget about them?" he whispers, hands sliding down to the waistband of your shorts, fingertips lightly teasing at the edge before he slides his hand under the waistband briefly. "i just want to stay here with you," he says again, this time his voice a little more desperate, a little more playful.

his kisses become more insistent, his body pressing into yours as his lips move back up to yours, hot and needy. his hands slide to your thighs, squeezing gently, pulling you even closer to him. "stay with me," he murmurs, lips brushing against yours between words. "i’ll make it worth your while."

you let out a soft laugh, finally giving in to his teasing and whining. "fine," you sigh, your fingers digging into his hair, pulling him back into a deep kiss. "but you’re gonna make up for this, cheol."

he grins into the kiss, his hands now slipping under your shirt, fingertips brushing over your skin, teasing you. "promise," he breathes out.

you feel your heart racing as his kisses grow more intense, his hands more demanding, and you can’t help but give in. his touch, his words, all of it is pulling you under, and before you know it, you're lost in the moment, hands roaming, bodies pressing together. he pulls away slightly, eyes half-lidded, his lips parted with a soft smirk. "so... can we spend the rest of the day in bed?" he asks, his voice husky with need, his hands still gently gripping you.

you look at him, your heart fluttering, and you can’t help but smile. "maybe," you whisper, your fingers dancing over his chest.

he grins widely, his lips crashing against yours once more, warm and insistent, moving with a desperation that makes your breath hitch. his hands settle on your hips, firm but not forceful, pulling you closer as if even the smallest distance is unbearable.

his tongue brushes against yours, the kiss deepening as his fingers curl under the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his hands sending a shiver up your spine. his grip tightens slightly, grounding you as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, his teeth grazing your bottom lip in a teasing nip.

“i missed you so much,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, the words vibrating against your lips before he captures them again.

his body presses against yours, his chest firm and steady against the rise and fall of your breath. his kisses trail down, slow and deliberate, tracing a path along your jaw and down to the curve of your neck, where he lingers, his lips hot and deliberate against your skin.

your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and he chuckles softly, the sound low and filled with promise.

[valalice]

۶ৎ dating older gf! caitlyn kiramman and having to endure the drastic ways the two of you text. cw. age gap (two consenting adults, about a 10 year age gap). reader is a college student. slightly suggestive. a somewhat modern au?

when you first started dating caitlyn you found it endearing and rather cute at how proper she texts you. always making sure to start her sentences when a capital letter and having correct punctuation. going out of her way to correct your speach : "Remember to capitalize I's, darling." // "There should've been a comma between there." // "So many exclamation marks, my baby must be really excited."

she also became rather familiar with all of your quick abbreviations, but not without questioning them : "What does PMO mean?" // "At this point, I know that one!" // "ABT means about?" // "I know BRB. Do you really think I'm that old?"

no matter at what stage you and caitlyn are at she will always keep sending you those chivalrous texts that makes your heart flutter when you read them. they started during the early stages of dating and they just happened to stick : "Good morning, Baby. Just made it to the office, already counting down the hours until we meet up for lunch." // "I hope your classes haven't been too draining today. Remember to eat and stay hydrated!" // "I miss you, pretty girl. Would you mind if I stopped by for a moment to see you?" // "You just continue to take my breath away."

older gf! caitlyn loves to spoil you by randomly sending you money, screenshots of purchases she got for you, or secret gifts that pop up in front of your door. she doesn't think twice when she sends you money or spends money on you, it's so casual for her to care for you in this way. but, it was, and still is an adjustment to openly accept the large quantities of money she's sending into your bank account : "Don't worry about it, darling. You deserve it with all your hard work." // "Got you a little gift. X" // "Spoil yourself for me while I'm away on this conference." // "Look outside your door." // "I have your rent covered for this month, love." // "Treat you and your friends to a dinner."

you love to see how you're rubbing off on her in the way she text. she isn't adapting all of your short abbreviations for words and sayings, but she had adapted the use of you "Adorable emoji faces." as caitlyn calls them, even though you try to tell her they aren't even emojis : "Going to be picking you up in a couple of hours. Can't wait to spend the weekend with you. :D" // "But you could also do homework at my place. ;)" // "The office loved those brownies you baked! You're such a sweetheart. <3" // "Work? >:( I told you I'd take care of you. No need for you to worry your pretty little head about anything."

and when you try to send her suggestive text and decide risky on her phone, on her internet, older gf! caitlyn is quick to put you in your place : "Don't start something you can't finish." // "You're being a little minx today, aren't you?" // "Mhm. You're too cute when you're needy." // "Where'd my good girl go, and why has she been replaced with a brat instead?" // "A please could get you a long way."

. . . as much as you tease older gf! caitlyn on being "so old" and "texting like an old lady" you find all her efforts at keeping up with you (and even correcting you) heartwarming.

[lostintransist]

Secrets Are For Grown Ups | Part 2

Shout out to the fabulous @xbirdiex for letting me hit them up in their DM's to beta for this. 😘

CW: Limb Loss, suicide mentioned in passing, thoughts of murder, Emotions™

What does one do when confronted with their unknown sins?

Follow them home of course.

Johnny had lost his left leg at knee due to a bomb going off at a job and Simon had been discharged after repeatedly failing mental health evals. They were both given pensions and discharged with honors. Roach and Gaz had been kept together when moved to a new team and Price had been ‘gifted’ a higher position by command that left him chained to a desk.

The only confirmation they had that your leaving had been somehow their fault was the face down picture on the table. Price had called them to check on you as you had a family emergency. You had been firmly ensconced in a hard airport seat when they reached your flat. If they shared a speaking look about the photo before Johnny slid it from it’s frame and folded into his pocket, they never discussed it.

The discharges were how they finally ended up together. Simon needed something, someone, to care for to keep from eating a bullet and Johnny fighting him tooth and nail to stay alive was the right project. The physical therapists loved seeing Johnny rolled in by Simon because they knew he wouldn’t fight them on exercises today. He would snarl at his “L.T.” and actually work. They had to be careful to not let him overwork himself lest he be unable to work at the next day’s appointment.

Their first kiss had been when Johnny had been fed up with Simon’s sass about physical therapy. He had only been legless for a month and barely started trying to relearn how to balance.

Simon carried him from the car to their shared flat.

“I’m not going back.”

“Mmm, what a surprise it will be when I drag your ass to PT tomorrow then.”

Being carried bridal style rankled somewhere deep in Johnny. He wanted to take a bite of out Simon’s neck and keep ripping but that would have left him stranded in the hall with a dead body and only one working foot.

The look Simon sent him, one of cool acknowledgment and smugness had Johnny gripping both halves of Simon’s face and planting a kiss on him.

That would show the bastard.

Showed him something alright. All Simon could see the remaining few steps to the flat was the subtle shift in Johnny’s gym shorts and rising heat in his cheeks. Simon hadn’t said anything about it. Dinner had been a simple soup. Night fell. When Simon helped Johnny to bed that night, he inserted himself next to the man.

Johnny didn’t question it. Frankly he was relieved. He had flirted for years in front of the man he didn’t think he would ever catch. The press of his dry lips and light fingers had ignited the combustible fumes that swirled between them. Those fumes choked out any hope of anything healthy with anyone else.

When Johnny had ‘graduated’ from therapy and could walk with almost no limp Simon invited Johnny to move with him. They found a medium sized city in a place neither of them had been to but could reach several national parks and an airport relatively quickly. Housing costs were rising but they found an older neighborhood with a good amount of trees in the yards and a little space in the back to grow plants. They could see the mountains when they stood on the second story porch.

The previous owner had mentioned that the school pick-up and drop off point happened at their house for the junior high and the elementary schools. Kids would wait on the corner of their yard away from the cars. That is why the two owners prior had installed the stone benches that sat so close to the sidewalk. Simon had planned on taking them out until he heard that piece of information.

One day, during mid-spring where the mornings were chilled enough to need a jacket but the afternoons would leave you sweating, Johnny saw something that gave him pause. He was in the process of moving bags of clothes into the car to drop off at the shelter when the bus delivered a load of kids. He waved with the bus driver and slammed the trunk of the crossover.

The squeal particular to children had Johnny snapping his back to a pair of children who walked past his parked car.

“Don’t do that Mac!”

A glare he had only ever seen on Simon’s face painted itself across the face of a child who couldn’t be any older than seven. Johnny felt the bottom drop out of his stomach and fall into his ass.

“Don’t yell at me stupid!”

“Mom says you can’t call me stupid! Stupid!”

Stepping into the sidewalk Johnny watches the the children, one with long hair and the other short, bicker until they reached a house five doors up and disappeared behind the front door.

Stumbling into the garage Johnny attempts to call for Simon. All that escapes is a croak. After a hard shake of his head and clearing his throat it works.

“Simon!”

The shout must have had an edge of panic because Simon appears with a hand gun pointed at the floor and the his Ghost eyes staring out. Upon seeing Johnny, unharmed and alarmed Simon tucked his work face and his gun away.

“What happened? Why are you sweating? Are you sick?”

Johnny swatted away that hands that reached for his face.

“I saw a fecking child with your face Si. Kid got off the bus and was arguing with his sister. I need you to come with me.”

Simon blinked at his beloved a few times. The fuck did he say?

“Why would a child in the states have my face? You know it is possible for unrelated people to look alike right? It’s important to me that you know that.”

“Listen to me Simon!” Johnny stumbled back, prosthetic catching funny against the concrete floor. “I, never, in all my life have seen a glare that looks exactly like yours. But this kid when yelling at his sister had one of your meanest glares. I could see him in you still after he smiled. I am asking you to come with me and knock on a door to introduce ourselves to the neighbors and find out what the hell is going on.”

Simon hadn’t seen Johnny this riled up in a long time. He searched his husbands face, noting the heaving of his chest and the flex of his fingers as he fought them from curling into fists.

“Okay,” he said gently as if he were speaking to a spooked horse, “let’s go meet the neighbors.”

That is how the found themselves at your door. The waiting after the harsh knock sounded into the space beyond the frame rattled something loose in Simon. Could he have a kid? He had been no prude before settling down with Johnny but he couldn’t remember more than a few women he ever fucked raw. Everyone of them had been on birth control, at least they said they were.

Johnny crossed his arms, drawing Simon’s gaze. They were both freaked out, concerned.

When the door opens there is you. A little older, a little more solid than when you had fled England, a few new piercings, but it’s still you. Simon glances to the wall visible behind you catching sight of two children in photos who wouldn’t look out of place on the walls of his and Johnny’s home. His gaze snaps back to you as you blanch and slam the door shut.

The deadbolt slamming into place solidifies in him the answer that there is something going on here and it absolutely involves them.

Before Johnny can pound his fist into the door to demand answers Simon catches it. Placing a gentle kiss along his knuckles he coaxes him from the door.

“She won’t answer the door. You know she won’t. Let’s all take the evening and try and come back tomorrow while the kids are at school.”

“She owes us answers, Si,” Johnny’s eyes flashed as he snarled.

Simon pulled him down one more step. Once Johnny started moving they walked home, hand in hand.

“She does owe us answers, but we know where she is now and can see about getting them. Right now I suggest we recoup and see what we can find. One of the kids in the photos looked like you Johnny.”

Johnny vibrates with tension until he sees the wisdom in coming at this from another angle. His shoulders drop from his ears as tears prick at his eyes.

“Why wouldn’t she tell us Si?”

Mulling over the answer they complete the walk home.

“Why would she Johnny? You know how we are.”

That sobering statement colored the remainder of the evening. It is late when they decide to call their former captain.

Secrets Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags:

@beloveds-embrace @cherrycosmos392 @mxtallymarks @love-kha1

@love-kha1 @bdbdhshhs @persephone-kore-law @vmaxis @splaterparty0-0 @momowhoo

@talia-the-gemini @redkarmakai

[revelboo]

REVELLLLLL DROP ANOTHER SCAVENGERS CHAPTER AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSS !!!!

Disaster squad!

Lifeless Ordinary Pt 5

Scavengers x Reader

• Shifting slightly to keep an optic on Misfire and Crankcase as the two try to get behind Swindle at the bins of human things, despite Krok warning them to not steal anything. They have to realize they need this crook to get them food for you. And if they get caught, Swindle’s likely to refuse to sell them anything else. “I mean, you gotta understand with the way humans multiply, they’re everywhere. Hundreds of different languages going. How was I to know which one your pet speaks?” Swindle flashes his denta, but it’s his newest acquisition that Krok’s attention keeps sliding to. Another human sitting in the middle of a bin of cloth coverings, folding the items one by one and sorting them into stacks. Ignoring the rest of them.

• Used car salesman aura robot is back and talking with your guys. Even not understanding a word the guy is saying, you’re almost positive he’s lying through his denta as he talks to Clicky. Over the weeks of being stuck as a pet, you’d started making up names for them all. Clicky, Goggles, Wings, Broken, and Big. Not exactly creative, but naming them makes you feel better. Makes them people instead of just scary, giant robots that want who knows what from you. You’re so busy watching the fast talker, that you almost miss the other human. Almost.

• Adjusting you against his chassis, Fulcrum watches you try to signal the other human, waving an arm until they look up and chattering at them. Sagging some when they reply, shaking their little head and gesturing at Swindle. You can’t understand the other human, he realizes. So the crook isn’t lying and he winces when you slump against him, sullen now. Still muttering nonsense. “You have their language?” Krok asks, beginning to click that thing he carries around and the sound makes Swindle grimace.

• Slumping against Goggles you have the absurd urge to cry, because there’s another human right there. And they can’t understand you. Apparently the universe is having fun jerking you about. Just one thing. Can just one single thing go your way?

• “I know that language,” Swindle grumbles glancing at you in Fulcrum’s hands and tearing his optics away when Spinister grumbles softly and rests a big hand on Fulcrum’s shoulder. Staying close to his tiny pet, but letting someone else carry you so he can get to his weapons if need be. It’d be easier just to shoot the mech in the face and take everything. He’d explained that to Misfire, but the seeker had just shook his head at him like he was being the unreasonable one. These things are all things you’d need, right? So why not take them. How’s that short sighted? Relaxing some when Swindle hands the data file over to Krok and he calls for Crankcase to try it. Because if this one doesn’t work, he’s shooting the other mech no matter what Misfire says.

• “Why is it always me? Why not test things on Spinister? Or Fulcrum.” Swearing at them all, he lets Spinister install the language chip. “You’re all awful,” he mutters and you sit up straight in Fulcrum’s hands and lean so far out, the other mech pins you tighter to his chassis in surprise. Staring right at him with wide eyes.

• “I understand you!” You’re so giddy, you almost pitch out of Goggles’s hands. Because that wasn’t weird alien noise coming from Broken. He’d spoken and you’d understood him and you’re about to start bawling you’re so happy. Finally. You can go home.

Previous

[wantondoe]

Wakey wakey

PART 2 FOR "Sleep tight, dear"

Hazbin Hotel, Alastor x doe reader, fluff

Plot in a nutshell: Alastor finally reunites with his darling doe (you) after her long hibernation. Shoutout to @luc1dw0rld for the ideas. Now, get cozy...

Ever since you fell into your deep slumber, the hibernation, Alastor had been struggling. In fact, suffering immensely was a more accurate way to put it. He hadn't been able to keep up his charming and confident persona like before. Instead, he would snap at anyone who looked at him the wrong way. He'd get pissy when someone would mention your name or joke about you never waking up from the hibernation.

Alastor spend his days working, hoping to create a distraction from his emotional turmoil. During dinners with the hotel staff, he's keep staring at the empty chair next to his, a clear reminder of your absence.

He counted days for your awakening. He'd meticulously plan the perfect meal for you when you'd wake up. He'd see if the bathroom was in a perfect condition for a warm, relaxing bath after you'd wake up. He assembled the shampoo bottles and soap bars on the nearby stool and folded two soft towels near the tub.

Alastor never imagined he's do this to anyone, acting like a servant. But when it came to you, he'd even wash your feet with his shirt. He'd do anything for your well-being.

Ever since the hotel was miserably destroyed in the extermination attack, Alastor had made sure to add an extra wing during the rebuilding. See, Alastor had a vision. He wanted for you to have a private room for the hibernation. He still remembers when you two walked down the aisle as he covered your eyes.

"Are we there yet?" you had asked excitedly.

"Just a few more steps, darling", he had whispered, his voice almost seductive. He had kicked the door open and moved his large hands away from your eyes, earning a delighted gasp from you.

Now he was walking down that short aisle, excited to see if you would already be awake. Today was the day. He carefully opened the door, revealing a spacious bedroom with a nice bathroom attached to it. The windows let in some light. With a snap of his fingers, the small lamps and fairy lights lit up, creating a comforting atmosphere. He carefully moved closer to the bed.

There you were, his dearest doe, resting on the makeshift bed. Alastor moved closer, seeing your body rise and fall peacefully. Your soft cheeks were a lovely shade of pink and not pale like earlier. He reached out to touch your smaller hand, smiling fondly at the warmth. You were waking up.

Alastor's red eyes filled with love and adoration as he stared down at your sleeping face, his heart aching to see your beautiful eyes open again. He hummed quietly as he moved his clawed fingers on your head, combing them through your hair. He's stay next to you on the nest, he was confident to stay until you woke up, even if it meant staying there for the whole day.

He wouldn't want to miss your awakening, after all. Alastor's heart ached at the thought of you waking up alone, hungry and sweaty. So, he stayed.

The day went on quickly and Alastor was getting slightly concerned as you still hadn't woken up. His brows furrowed, he tried to come up with ways to wake you up. At one point, Angel Dust peeked in the room, his grin wide.

"So, is the doe awake yet? No?" the arachnid asked, raising a brow.

Alastor huffed in annoyance. There was a reason why he had build a whole wing for your hibernation room. He didn't want to deal with the others, he only wanted to be with you.

"Very kind of you to check up on us", Alastor responded, his static voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey charmer, try kissing her on the lips", Angel mocked, "it worked in Sleeping Beauty after all!"

"You little- That's silly!" Alastor snapped, his face heating up.

"Well, best of luck with that!" Angel winked an eye and left before the Radio Demon could come up with a comeback. Alastor rolled his eyes. Of course the wanton pornstar would splutter nonsense like that... Alastor would never take advantage of you while you were in such a vulnerable state, never!

Even though, he couldn't deny that your lips did look rather inviting. He felt utterly silly doing this, but he carefully placed his lips onto yours. His kiss was gentle, even divine, as ironic as it was. After all, he was just a bloodthirsty overlord, trying to romance you in Hell.

He carefully pulled away, hoping to see you react. But there was nothing, of course. He mentally smacked himself for believing that his kiss would actually do something. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling with a puzzled look. Alastor wasn't a particularly patient demon and he was getting frustrated waiting for you to wake up-

His heart almost stopped as he felt a familiar touch on his hand. The gentle touch was loving, the smaller fingers wrapping around his. His eyes widened and he slowly turned his head to face you.

Your beautiful eyes fluttered open, your doe ears perking up as you woke up. Alastor quickly turned back on his side, reaching for your head, holding it carefully. "There you go darling... Take your time, there's no rush... You're doing so well. I'm here for you", he cooed softly. "My my don't you look lovely..."

His heart fluttered as you smiled weakly, your eyes gazing at him. "Hey..." you say weekly, your mouth dry from the long hibernation. Alastor noticed the discomfort and immediately summoned fresh water for you helping you sit up. He carefully moved your fragile body to sit up before bringing the water glass to your lips.

After your mouth didn't feel like sandpaper anymore, you started talking again. Your voice was like music to his ears. He had missed your voice more than you could ever know.

Alastor found himself all emotional, seeing you so responsive again. He wouldn't stop hugging you, possessively pinning you down on the makeshift nest. A low growl escaped his lips as he inhaled your lovely scent.

You giggled lightheartedly, hugging him back. " Calm down, I'm not going anywhere."

"I missed you so much", he mumbled on your neck. "Nothing felt the same without you", he mumbled in your neck. He ran his long fingers along your hair and occasionally rubbed the base of your doe ears.

"You're so cute like this", you giggle, teasingly poking his nose.

"I'm not cute", he argued.

"But you are! You're my silly, cute little buck!" you teased as Alastor was secretly enjoying the way your hands played with his red strands.

Alastor would never admit it to anyone, but he did find your teasing and silly nicknames extremely endearing. He let out a content sigh. He had missed this, he had missed you.

"Thank you for taking care of me during the hibernation", you look into his eyes with genuine gratitude. His crimson pools stared back at you, full on adoration and tenderness.

"Of course, darling. Anything for MY doe..."

[jollyhunter]

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings! MDNI, explicit sexual content (light), fluffy smut, but also cuddling and lots of teasing, Dean being needy and touchy and soft!dom

A/N: Heya! This is my first fanfic post- woohzaa [throws glitter and anxiety across the post]. English isn't my native language but I tried to make up for it with spell-checking? Also, I'm sorry for the cliffhanger sweethearts! Let me know if you liked it <3

Word count: 1,700

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

The smell of musky sweat still hung in the thick air and the sheets around you looked like a strangled mess. So your sleep was deep, exhausted but also feeling all spent and fuzzy from the several rounds you and Dean had a couple of hours ago. Your breathing was serene, your nose nuzzled into Dean‘s arm which worked as a makeshift pillow. The other one was tightly wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, holding your back against his slowly moving chest, keeping you warm and save in his tight locked arms.

A sudden bump against your butt stirred you slightly, but you assumed Dean was just being restless again. His arm tightened around you when you pressed your body further into him in a reassuring gesture, your hand meanwhile untangling itself from the sheets to interlace your slender fingers with his calloused ones.

Then the broad shoulders that were glued to your back, suddenly shift. His breath against your neck coming in short little excited puffs. And his hips gently rock against your arse, slowly and almost testing. You grumble in response and give his hand a little warning squeeze. „You have to sleep, Dean…“ you remind him with a dozily slurred voice. He‘d have to get up in an hour or so, as he and Sam were going to investigate a case somewhere up in Nebraska. It would probably take at least a couple of days, and you already knew he’d miss you just as much as you’d miss him, because he was always especially needy and touch-deprived before he left the bunker for longer.

Another bump against your back. You curl up into a ball, not wanting to leave his comfortable warmth but still trying to get your point across without having to use your voice.

When you cuddled up against him like a kitten, Dean stilled his movements. And you left a soft exhale of something like relief, snuggling under his strong arm, loving the feeling of his shielding presence all around you.

But Dean was not done. And you curling up like a cat didn’t help either - if anything, it just made his hidden sly smirk widen. Just when you went back to dreamland, you felt something brush against your knee. Then your thighs. Dean snaked his leg over yours, trapping you against the mattress. „Dean…“ you grumble again, your eyes still shut and your face buried under his arm while you tried to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine. He doesn’t reply. Instead his foot slips between your knees and he now slowly pushes your legs apart, parking his thigh between them to keep them spread for him. He brushed his nose against your neck, taking in your sweet scent, his fingers slowly dancing down your body, tracing every curve like he knew them by heart. Another shiver went through your body and it became harder to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, the sleepiness somehow just accelerating your arousal. You wiggle under him when you suddenly feel his hot breath waft against your ear, „uh-uh-uh…“ His gravelly voice earns him a little shaky exhale from your parted lips while he quickly pins you further down.

Dean traced the rim of your pajamas pants with his fingers, teasingly slow while his other hand tightened its grip around yours, to keep you from slipping away. „Just lemme take care of you, baby…“ he murmured with his lips pressed against your ear, his head keeping you flush against the mattress. He wanted you to keep your eyes closed, stay sleepy, just relax and enjoy.

Not sure anymore whether you were dreaming or not, you found yourself nodding against his side, and that quite eagerly despite your half-asleep state. Satisfied with your answer, he slipped his fingers under the rim of your pants, taking his sweet time as his hand traveled down between your legs.

Just when his fingertip brushed against your clit, a loud knock at the door made you startle from your half-sleep-half-needy state.

„Dean? Come on man- we gotta go. Get your arse moving!“ Sam called out from the other side of the door, knocking again just to make sure he’d not ignore him.

Dean’s finger still idly circled your clit, torn between ignoring him or getting out of bed. After a moment he groans, his arms and legs still tightly in position around you, as he opens his mouth to bark back - but then is cut short by your lips on his cheek.

He turns back to look down at your curled up sleepy form, your cheeks flushed and goddamn you‘re already wet between your legs. „’tis okay” You reassure him, although you had to really force yourself to not sound frustrated and needy.

Dean grunted, knowing exactly that you were just trying to get him out of bed and out of trouble for being too late. But man he could have kicked his brother in the arse right about now.

He gave you a quick peck on the forehead and with a reluctant movement pulled his hand from your pants and untangled himself from your body. When he kicked his legs over the edge of the bed and got up, he suddenly turned around again, his eyes darkening and his lips curling into a sly smile.

“C’mere” he said gruffly, making it sound like an order. But you just looked up at him with bleary eyes, blinking in confusion as your mind was still half asleep. “On your knees.” He patted the spot in front of him with an air of authority.

You weren’t sure where this was going but were curious enough to play along. So you sat up, swaying a bit as you scooted closer to the edge on your knees. “Uh-uh,” you stopped and tilted your head in confusion, giving him that befuddled puppy look. He circled his index finger, gesturing for you to turn around. “On your hands and knees.” He said with that iconic deep and firm voice.

You swallowed, a little shiver running down your spine again. Without any protest you did as you were told and backed up against the edge of the bed again, this time facing away from him.

“Wanna get a look again.” He began, while his hands suddenly cupped your arse, squeezing them. „Wanna memorize what I’ll miss.“ You bit your lower lip, glad he couldn’t see your needy eyes right now. With a swift motion, his fingers hooked under the rim of your pants and he pulled them all the way down to your knees. The moment the air hit your bare skin, you were suddenly fully aware of how exposed you felt, unable to see what he was doing, where his eyes were going and what his next move would be. Without a word his hands immediately went back to your hips, slipping up to the back of your waist and pressing you down with a certain strength that made you follow each of his movements like a tamed horse. He ran one hand up between your shoulder blades and pushed down there as well until your tilted head and your chest were flush against the mattress, drawing a small whimper from your mouth. God how he loved seeing you comply like this, exposed, open and vulnerable to him, filling his heart with pride.

He kept one hand on your back to pin you down while his other went to tug at your lowered pants. “Jesus… you’re dripping, sweetheart.” He mutters almost in awe when you felt his eyes roaming your wetted thighs and pants. Suddenly he slides his hand back up along your spine until each of them grabs your hips. He angles them so your butt would point more up for him, pushing you even further into the bed, just the way he wanted you. Then out of nowhere his firm hands grab your arse cheeks and without a warning he pulled them apart, getting a real nice look on your slick folds. „I want to remember this view…“ He mutters, spreading your arse even more while you felt him bend down, his hot breath hitting the inside of your thighs, „Want to think of that beautiful pussy when I‘m alone…“

And then you suddenly feel the tip of his tongue flick against your clit, the unexpected sensation almost making you buckle while a shuddering moan slips your lips. Dean chuckles, relishing the effect he’s having on you. „Hold still, baby.“ He ordered while his one hand trailed over your hip and to the small of your back, holding you down, and his other started to rub your arse cheek, affectionately and proudly. „God… you’re so beautiful… Want to remember your taste…“ He continued before his tongue flicked across your folds this time, wetting his lips with your sweet juice, followed by a deep groan, "God you taste so fucking good...". He pulled the stroking hand back, and then brought it down again with a sharp swat to your arse. You yelped and your legs trembled, which made Dean grin proudly that he managed to surprise you with that move. „You a good girl until I‘m back?“

He didn’t wait for an answer but swats your arse again, this time definitely leaving a red mark he knew you wouldn’t mind. „You be good?“ He asks again, his voice taking that gravely tone which always made you squirm.

„Mhm,“ you mutter against the mattress, trying to hold still for him. „I‘ll be good.“

„That’s my girl.“ He patted your red arse cheek, his lips widening into that cheshire grin of his, „Now you get some rest.“

Before you could protest, he wiggled the soaked pants up your legs and over your hips again. You stifled a soft whine but knew it was no use, he‘d need to go now. Dean chuckled at the needy sound that slipped your perfect cute lips and it took all of his willpower to not just take you right there. He leaned over you to kiss you on the neck, his lips lingering there for a little longer than usual before he whispered in a low rumbling voice, „We‘ll continue right here when I‘m back, sweetheart... and 'till then... I‘ll always think of you.“

[anon-vester]

Ivan could feel the constant squirming in his butt. He thought that Kysic was done trying to escape from his ass. It was punishment for always taking his stuff without permission.

48 hours ago.........

Ivan had found several things missing again from his room. He knew who had done it. His roommate Kysic had a nasty habit of borrowing his stuff without even asking. Sometimes, he would return them not the way he had taken them. It really pissed him off about that. He often told him not to take anything from his room unless he asked. Yet time and time again Kysic kept doing it over and over. He decided to put a stop to it and teach him a lesson in leaving his things alone.

As Kysic was in the living room watching tv, Ivan brought him an open soda can. "Here, you must be thirsty." He handed him the soda can.

"Thanks roomy, I thought you would be really upset over my nasty habit." Kysic spoke as he drunk the soda. It was so delicious that he guzzled down the whole thing in seconds. "That was tasty and refreshing." He added as he noticed Ivan smiling back at him. "What's with the smile?" He asked.

Ivan looked at him, "You will see. And I also am still upset over your nasty habit. But I decided to put you in a place to break that nasty habit of yours." He spoke as he waited.

Kysic didn't know what exactly he meant by that. Suddenly thought the whole room was spinning all around him. Everything grew in size, even the couch he was sitting on. He looked over at Ivan who was now like a giant to him. "What's happening?!" He exclaimed in a tiny voice as continued to shrink in size.

Ivan laughed this time. "Soon, you will be small enough to fit in my ass. It will be you prison for the next two days at least. This will teach you the value of personal space." He paused. "You will be my personal butt toy." He added.

Kysic soon found himself centimeters tall, and the world around him extremely huge. He saw Ivan lower his shorts and underwear. He realized that his roommate wasn't lying to him. He began to run, but was already too late. Ivan snatched him up and stuffed him in his butt crack towards his hole. He then stuff part of him into his hole for good measure. "Enjoy your new home for the next two days." He heard him say before closing his butt cheeks, leaving him in a total dark and sweaty prison.

The last 48 hours had been a place of torture for Kysic. There wasn't an ounce of light unless Ivan parted his butt cheeks. It was stuffy and sweaty. Him passing gas made his prison almost unbearable to be there. The worst of it was when Ivan workout. It made it extremely sweaty and slippery. He had to work hard not to get swallowed in his hole. At night, Ivan would fart in his sleep, causing him to pass out and wake up frequently in his hole. Ivan was careful to make sure he couldn't escape his ass when he showered. He would plug him in, keeping him from any means of escaping his prison.

Kysic felt like he learned his lesson. He would leave his roommate's things alone for now on. He hoped some squirming would help Ivan realize he wanted out and learned his lesson.

Ivan was enjoying how much Kysic was squirming in his hole. He really did make the perfect butt toy. He had initially planned just a 48 hour stay in his butt but decided to enjoy his tiny prisoner a little longer. He could tell him his plan, but it would be more fun for the little butt toy to found out on his own. That thought really amused him as he continued to work on his computer.

[littlestarbigsky]

i made this post a few days ago and it’s just been lingering in my head for a while (plus y’all seemed to vibe with it lol), i could talk about ponyboy with water trauma foreverrrr

it’s kinda short but here’s soda washing pony’s hair for him post canon :)

darry set the basket of towels fresh from the dryer on the kitchen table and looked over at soda, who was setting his shampoo and conditioner on the side of the sink.

“where do you want these?” he asked, and soda looked over.

“oh, don’t worry about it, i’ll put them out, thanks, darry.”

darry nodded and busied himself with folding another basket of laundry in the living room. he wanted to be close by in case things went south, and they definitely could if soda wasn’t careful.

soda laid a few of the towels out on the cleared-off kitchen counter, rolling one up and placing it next to the sink and setting another by the shampoo to use for drying when they were finished.

“hey, pony, we’re all ready in here!” soda called, no notes of impatience in his voice, just passing along the message.

after a few minutes, pony sidled out of their room, wrapped up in one of his favorite hoodies. it had once belonged to darry and could swallow the kid whole, but he’d been wearing it nonstop since he’d been back home.

“you ready, kiddo?” soda asked, and pony only shrugged. soda smiled playfully, trying to keep things as lighthearted as they could get, “alright, then step on up. maybe take off that sweatshirt, i’ll get you a towel for your shoulders.”

pony hesitantly pulled the sweatshirt over his head and threw it into the basket with the towels, taking the towel soda handed him.

“want the water warm or cold?” soda asked gently, turning on the sink and checking the temperature with his hand.

the three of them had always gone back and forth with taking cold showers, darry insisted it helped him feel more productive and also helped with all of his muscle tension. soda had done it once and decided he would never do it again, but pony would get in the habit during track season, and had been doing it more often since he’d come home.

“warm,” pony answered quickly. “just not hot…”

“you got it,” soda smiled. “in that case, i think we’re ready, c’mon over.”

pony walked over to the counter and hopped up, laying his head back against the makeshift pillow soda had made with one of the towels. he took a few steadying breaths, listening to the water running. he looked up at the sun catcher in the kitchen window that their mother had painted. he could smell darry’s aftershave on the towel around his shoulders. he took a moment to check in with what was happening in his body; unclench his jaw, stop biting his cheek, keep his breathing as steady as it could be.

soda started slowly by wetting his hands and running them through his hair. he was so careful, taking care to keep the water off of pony’s face and out of his ears, not missing the tension in his shoulders or the stony look in his eyes.

“let me know if you need to stop, okay?”

“i know.”

he squirted some shampoo into his hands and started to work it into ponyboy’s mangled hair. he tried as hard as he could to be gentle, but it was so tangled from not being washed for so long and there was so much grease to work through, compounded over two weeks of improper care.

it was heartbreaking work. it made soda’s heart ache knowing how badly ponyboy had to be feeling if he couldn’t take care of his hair. of course, it wasn’t the same hair he had left home with. it was dried out and chopped awkwardly, soda still felt a little shocked every time he saw pony out of the corner of his eye.

pony flinched when soda worked out an especially tough knot, and soda frowned, “sorry, kiddo, i’m almost done.”

he rinsed out the shampoo as quickly as he could, giving the same treatment with the conditioner.

he couldn’t help but cringe at how botched johnny’s bleach job had really been, some patches a perfect platinum blond and some a bright yellow. pony had called it a halloween costume he was stuck in.

soda’s stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as he carded his hands through pony’s dried out ends and saw pieces of his auburn-brown roots starting to come in. it made him feel strangely at peace with the whole thing. their whole world had stopped, or at least it seemed that way, and yet ponyboy’s hair still grew. the world still spun, and with each passing day, the weight of what had happened to them felt less heavy. one day his hair would grow out and maybe he would let them cut it, maybe he would let that part of his pain go.

they were in no rush, they would let it take all the time he needed it to, but it was comforting all the same to know that with every passing day, with every breath, they were getting close to things feeling better. one day closer to the reality of all of their pain not being so fresh.

soda finished up rinsing out the conditioner, shut the water off, and grabbed the towel from the other side of the sink, wringing out the water from pony’s hair. he sat his little brother up on the counter, drying his hair as gently as he could.

he grabbed pony’s face in his hands when he had finished, holding his gaze, “you alright, honey?”

pony swallowed thickly and nodded, “can i have my hoodie?”

soda gave a tight-lipped smile, “of course. do you wanna go sit with darry?”

pony nodded again, shrugging the towel off his shoulders and hopping off the counter. soda handed him the hoodie, warm from the towels, and pony clumsily pulled it over his head, quickly pulling the hood off his wet hair. soda cleaned up the excess water from around the sink as pony dragged his feet over to the couch and flopped down next to darry, his knees tucked into his stomach and his head comfortably laid back against darry’s chest.

darry threw an arm over pony’s shoulders and pulled him into his side, resting his cheek on the top of pony’s head. soda came over after cleaning everything up and piled in next to pony, effectively crushing their baby brother between them.

“you feel better now that that hair is clean?” darry asked, messing it up a little for good measure.

“mhm,” pony nodded, sinking down into the couch and almost burying himself in the material of the hoodie.

“good, can we get you anything?” soda asked.

pony shook his head, “‘m tired.”

“okay,” soda leaned over towards the coffee table and turned the radio down before snuggling back in with his brothers. “you can rest, baby, we’re right here.”

[manticore-fangs]

possibly sweet sex with schlatt!!! riding him after he had a super stressful work day!

im sorry this is short, i have 15 inbox requests and im trying to get them out but omg :((( i love this too much

cw: nothing, its just super sweet!!

your holding his mutton chops, petting his cheeks while his eyes are closed and he is laying against his desk chair. your sat in front of him and just riding him, jumping up and down on his cock.

"i know jay, i know.." you kiss at his forehead as he groans and whimpers, he needs this. desperately.

your cunt feels so good around him and he doesn't want you to stop, so he grabs at your hips and just lets you keep bouncing, the both of you moaning.

you kiss at his mutton chops and then his mustache, then the tip of his nose and then his chapped lips. "its alright jay, i love you so much." you cradle his head with your hands. kissing at every little marking of his.

the both of you start to lean more into the kiss, beginning to make out. you suck on his tongue while he just moans, limp in your hold. letting you do whatever you want to him, letting you take control.

the blaring of the screen shines over you, schlatt looks up at you and it seems like the rays from the monitor gave you a halo and god you really are an angel sent from heaven, treating a man like him like this. treating him so sweetly.

"i love you so much toots." he says, you almost hear a crack in his voice. almost like he's tearing up, but you just kiss him again. "i love you too jay, i love you so much."

schlatt starts to slowly thrust up into you, wanting to take slight control, wanting to pleasure you.

"dont- i wanna take care of you." you whine but schlatt just chuckles. "i wanna take care of you toots, let me. please." you whine but stop moving your hips to allow him to take the reigns and he does.

he thrusts just a few more times, feeling your walls clamp around him, signing that you were close without words.

before you could speak, he speaks for you. "i know your close doll, i know.. you can cum, you've been doing so good taking care of me. your allowed to cum." you nod your head and nuzzle into his neck, kissing his collarbones and sucking hickeys into him.

you finally let go, coming all over him with a loud moans. schlatt isnt even close to his orgasm, though he lets you take your time before he could start guiding you again.

you started to ride him a bit more, knowing he didnt cum as you didnt feel the familair warmth fill you up. "why didnt you cum?" you ask him and you just see a smirk. "wanted to make you feel good bubs." he says so sweetly that it could make someone sick.

"your too good for me." you kiss at his chops a few more times, you feel his chest starting to move up and down faster.. then, he comes up inside you. the both of you lay there, sweaty and sticky.

"i love you jay, you know that?" schlatt nods his head and the both of you lock lips, living through the sweet moment.

[puck-luck]

wait plz for your 1k celly can I request your example of 7 of hearts Quinn breeding kink like that’s rlly EVERYTHING

warnings: no actual fucking, but allusions to previous encounters. the third installment of this breeding kink/pregnancy thing that i've been writing through these cellys. here is part one and part two. might even write a fourth if there's another request for Q's breeding kink in my list! (there probably is).

wc: 897

It’s a Sunday and Quinn doesn’t have a game today. Things are already wonderful just from those two facts alone, but you have a third little fact that you’ve been waiting to tell Quinn since last week. During his short roadie down to California, you’d peed on the stick and that second line appeared. An indescribable feeling washed over you– it was a rush of emotion that tapered off into a consistent feeling of happiness. 

You were excited to tell Quinn what was happening, but you wanted to make sure that it wasn’t a false positive. You’d made an appointment at your doctor’s office, a rushed one, and asked them to do some bloodwork to see if you were really pregnant– you were. After two months of trying, you were knocked up. Quinn’s baby was growing inside of you. It’s weird when you think about a baby actually growing in your body, but you’re ecstatic that it’s Quinn’s baby and you get to experience this together.

You’re tangled up in bed now. Your head is on Quinn’s chest, hand on his stomach, and his arm is wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes are closed and his breath is even. He’s awake, even though it doesn’t look like he is. 

“Quinn?” You murmur.

“Mm?” He hums. “I think my dick is broken, baby. Can’t fuck you right now.” He shifts, moving towards the edge of the bed. “Gonna go make us breakfast, I think. What do you want? Pancakes?”

“I wanna stay in bed with you,” you reply, tracing the birthmark on his chest. 

Quinn snuffles out a laugh, dropping a kiss on the crown of your head. “Not possible. We have to eat something. Let me go make something, then we can be lazy in the living room together.”

“Let me give you a reason to stay in bed,” you say, voice growing to a normal volume. You pick your head up and set your chin in his sternum, looking up at your boyfriend. 

Quinn’s eyes open a sliver, glinting down at you. “My dick doesn’t work anymore. Fucked you too good last night, sweetheart.”

He’s right, he did fuck you too good last night. You'd had no idea how much better sex was when you’re pregnant– but maybe it was the confirmation bias. You’d read that it was better and you were excited that Quinn was so eager to fuck you full of his child, unaware that he’d already succeeded, so you felt like it was better. You’ll have to keep track of your opinion during the pregnancy, just to make sure.

“Don’t need your dick to work anymore, Q,” you tell him coyly, a tiny little grin on your face. 

Quinn’s eyebrows pinch together, confused. “What do you mean?” He asks. “You don’t want to keep trying?”

You lay your head back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Not that,” you tell him. “I just don’t think you can get me pregnant again.”

Quinn goes quiet and still. His heart is pounding beneath your ear. “What?” He questions, seeming like he’s holding his breath. “What did you say?”

You smile, turning and burying your face between his pecs. Your lips kiss over his sternum and where his heart is pounding against the bone– at least, that’s how it feels. He’s racing. “I wasn’t sure if it was a false positive, so I went to the doctor the other day, and I’m pregnant, Q. There’s a Hughes baby inside me right now.”

He stares at you, eyes wide and disbelieving. His mouth is open, jaw dropped wide.

You snort out a laugh and grab his arm, placing his hand on your abdomen. “The baby and I would like to be lazy in bed with Daddy all day, please.” You’re just teasing him now, trying to get a reaction from him.

“Are you actually?” Quinn demands, springing back to life. His eyes are darting all over his face and he’s craning his neck so that he can look down at you properly. “You’re not just fucking with me?”

“Do you want me to go get the pregnancy test and the doctor’s note?” You ask, laughing.

“No! No,” Quinn says, his voice loud and excited. “I can get it. You relax.” He kicks the covers off, but you wrap your arms around his stomach and try to hold him there. He’s strong, so he moves anyway. “Where is it?”

“It’s only been a few weeks, Q, I can still move around,” you laugh. “They’re in the bottom drawer in the bathroom with all my random things. Come back here when you’re done, I wasn’t kidding about cuddling with my baby-daddy all day.” Your last sentence is a call after him, because as soon as you told Quinn where the items were, he was on the move. You can hear him throwing open the drawer and rifling around. 

You laugh, laying flat on your back and placing a hand on your belly. You’re not showing, not even close, but you know that there’s something in there. A little baby, made completely from yours and Quinn’s love. That knowledge, paired with Quinn’s excitement when he comes rushing back into the room and pounces on you, wrapping you in a hug and kissing over your face, pregnancy test clasped in his hand, makes this the best day of your life.

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

Nsfw - Biting until bleeding, lowkey sub König but also soft ish König. König with glasses btw.

Your teeth bite into him once again, then again. He wants to tilt his head to inquire and yet, he doesn't want to scare you off. He'll just push back his glasses on his nose when you stop. Not even making eye contact before he goes back to reading the endless pile of contracts. He's a colonel with work after all.

When the sharp sting of your teeth come again. He doesn't react to it. Breath hitching for the slightest of moments that he prays you don't catch. The mindless sound of pen against paper calms his mind when he feels your heart press on the back of his shoulder, a hand looping around to catch his own in your hold.

You're not a mind reader and he's no telepath but he prays you don't stop. A pause too long makes him speak out.

"Liebling-", he conveys command well for such little words. Desperation seeping through purposefully and he nearly drops his pen when you bite down again, hard, nexk bleeding like he's been caught in a vampire's trap. He's bleeding and he's dizzy in a different way.

Especially when you make him lay back on the wooden chair, his legs spread to hold his weight. His throat swallows loudly when your lips wrap around his knee, your sharp teeth digging into his skin then through his flesh, through the very veins that hold him together.

Soft warm flesh in your mouth. He's never been so glad to be wearing shorts especially when you move to his inner thigh, he shifts closer to the edge of the chair for your ease of access.

He nearly cries when your canines through the skin, pain stinging and making him wide awake from the near state if disassociation he was in. His mind nearly going crosseyed when you suck his blood from his thigh. Tongue flicking over the wound before you enter him again. Warmth and he's soaked by the end of a minute. Untouched and drained.

He's leaking when you shift your head to breathe him down. Twitching at the breath he knows he shouldn't feel through the now dampening layers of clothing. His hands recoil and shiver near his chest when you flatten your lips against the sensitive fabric, he swears he could feel his heart trying to fly out of his throat when he moans.

He's turned from colonel to a pathetic man in your hands. His own hands float uselessly in the air, almost afraid to touch you even when you bite down on his tip through the fabric. They only reach up to pull at his own mask. You stop when his thighs start shivering, whines instead of whimpers escaping his throat. Years of service has made him hard of hearing of his own voice somehow. Yet he's still your man, "flaws" and all.

So you won't shove him away when he picks you up. Pulling at your shoulder. Putting your body on his soaked lap and keeping you still like a vice even when the armrest pokes at your back. You have to readjust his glasses before he forcefully presses them against your eyes when he kisses you. A hand to the back of your hair while he tries to slow down his heavy breaths. His glasses smudge with oil yet he can't care when his vision is already blurry.

Just huddling you closer until he finds it in himself again to continue working. It takes him a while especially when you coo over him. Kissing him as if he was your loverboy he is and he'll accept them because he is.