#they should do it using their lips not their fists tho

[ponury-grajek]

Happy Valentine's Day, @frootloopsl :3

#death note #l lawliet #light yagami #lawlight #LawlightServerValentines2024 #smash your enemy face is a perfect date idea for them #they should do it using their lips not their fists tho

[solitude4chiron]

Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE

He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK

He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5

“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”

“Never even played.”

“NIGGA WHAT?”

Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done

“How many do you have left?”

“Boy move that damn hand.”

Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”

“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”

“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”

Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball

Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food

Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes

“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”

“Y’all use that shi?”

“who df are you bro…”

Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 

Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)

Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs

Hobie: Attachment: 1

disgusting creatures…

Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house

Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs

“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”

“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”

“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”

Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)

On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)

Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist

Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”

“Yo, were you stealing back there?”

“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”

“Nevermind.”

Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.

Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.

He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks

After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.

“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”

“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”

• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.

“imma get bro good this time..”

“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”

• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.

• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.

“Are you playboi carti?!”

“Bruv.”

over.

“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”

“bru…”

and over.

“you Opium?”

“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”

and over again.

• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.

“you good young’n?”

“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”

“that’s cool too”

• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.

• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around

• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.

• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.

anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobie headcanons #headcanon #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spiderman atsv #hobart brown #hobie brown x reader

[soobinsonly1bf]

soobin + discord esex

warnings: nsfw, afab!reader, literally esex on discord, soobin's kinda subby here, mutual masturbation ig??, jerking off, fingering, they're teasing (more like mocking) each other nonstop, soobin's a pervy loser, it's cringy and they know it, dirty talk, use of pet words (pretty boy, good boy)

!!nsfw under the cut, minors dni!!

"god, i need you so bad right now..." soobin mumbled, phone in his one hand and his cock in the other one... he strokes his dick desperately while looking at the phone screen. "please, please show yourself... i need to see you. just- just your face."

"my voice is not enough to make you cum?" you tease and see soobin turning on his camera to show himself and his pouty face.

"baby..." he whines, not stopping touching himself. you chuckle as you turn the camera on too, showing your face to him.

"happy? and now maybe you should show me your stupid cock?" you ask, acting calm, but in reality you're rubbing your thighs together since the beginning of your call when the first thing you heard were his damn whimpers...

"so it's stupid now?" he rolls his eyes at your words. "i think it's not so stupid when it's deep inside your stupid pussy."

"oh, so it's stupid now? i think it's not so stupid when you're fucking drooling at the only sight of me naked." you mock him.

"alright, alright, you won..." he says as he flips the camera, showing the hard cock in his fist. you gulp, you can't help it. you just want his pretty cock inside of you so bad...

soon you can only hear his little noises and the sound of him stroking his dick, all wet from his precum. you slowly put your hand on your already just as wet cunt. you rub it gently through your sweatpants and your breath hitches. it doesn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend...

"i know what you're doing." he says with the smirk you can't see, but you know damn well it's on his face right now, because he made you needy too. "show me." he says, but when he sees no reaction he adds "please?".

you just sigh. "i'm not even really doing anything yet..." then you see he stopped moving his hand on his cock and you sigh once again. "wait a second." you say and he's stroking himself again.

it's embarrassing, but you quickly pull your pants down, staying in just your underwear. you touch it right where the wet spot is... it really is embarrassing, how you're wet only because of soobin showing you his goddamn cock... but oh so pretty cock.

"bet you're not gonna last five minutes once i show you myself." you tease, fliping your camera for soobin to see how you're rubbing the visibly wet stain through your underwear... you can't help but notice how his hand started moving in a faster pace.

"oh god... and you dare to call my dick stupid when you're so goddamn wet?" he teases back. "i want to fuck you so bad right now..."

"what the fuck soob, it was so cringe." you say, but in reality you can feel yourself clench around nothing... it's getting more and more embarrassing.

"yeah i think the fact that we're just having discord sex is more cringe... i don't mind tho."

"maybe because you're-" you can't stop the little moan leaving your lips as you keep on rubbing your pussy. "you're just used to being a cringe loser."

"you just moaned, didn't you? who's a loser now?" he says as you pull your underwear down, but flip the camera back at your face. "fuck, i am the loser! 'm sorry, i'm the loser, so please- please show me." he mumbles, immidiately changing his tone.

you chuckle and put your phone on the pillow in front of you, now showing your whole body laying on your bed, but also your face. "yeah? wanna see, loser?" you ask as you spread your legs for him.

"you're so beautiful, god, so pretty..." he mumbles, jerking off his cock desperately. you see the precum literally dripping down his slit.

you chuckle and spread your folds, showing off your wet hole. "you'd love to slip your cock in here, yeah? come on, stroke yourself like you're fucking into me." you say and can immidiately see the effect you have on him.

"shit, gonna cum- i'm so close, i-" he whimpers and the next thing you see is soobin cumming all over himself, now slowly moving his hand up and down to let everything out.

you slip two of your fingers into your cunt, the sight of his release turning you on more than you thought it would... you start fucking yourself with your fingers, imagining it's soobin's cock going in and out of you.

soobin can't help, but keep on stroking his already overstimulated cock... he whimpers oh so loudly, you can imagine his pretty lips now. you finger yourself, desperate to also cum. "fuck- you came so good for me, yeah pretty boy? should i cum for you too now? will you cum again for me like a good boy you are?"

you hear him mumbling and whimpering, you can't even understand what he says, but the way his cock twiches tells you enough. soon you feel your legs trembling and the familiar feeling in your lower abdomen... you let out a loud moan as you're cumming on your fingers, still fingering yourself through it.

your eyes are squeezed shut, orgasm overwhelming you... but then you open your eyes wide, kinda shocked at soobin cumming once again, not as much as before, but still a lot.

"what the fuck... what are you, fourteen?" you say, still kinda disbelieving that he came so fast after his previous orgasm.

"oh shut up, not my fault you're hot!"

"yeah and it's not my fault you're a pervy loser." you say, hanging up the call.

—————————

a/n: @jistagrams WORK WAS THE ONE THAT INSPIRED ME TO WRITE IT (sorry for tagging😭)

especially this one ss!! guys go to her profile immidiately and check this out!!!!!!

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #soobin smut #soobin x reader #soobin x you #perv!soobin #sub!txt #sub!soobin

[mommypieck]

༺ ♱ ༻ aot threesome - 9/10

✿ erwin x reader x miche

✿ warnings: smut, threesome, hard sex, cervix kissing, hard oral, crying, slapping, no protections, passing out, hints at unconscious sex, non-con creampie

"i dont think you should be outside all alone this late." miche says, his hands roaming around your body.

you surely didn't expect your night to go like this. it started when you decided to go to a bar to drink your problems away and met two mysterious guys.

"you're surely one beautiful girl." erwin places his fingers under your chin to lift your chin up. you feel nervous as he looks you straight in the eyes. you're taken by a surprise when he leans down to plant a tender kiss on your lips. he chuckles and you know that it's because he noticed you shivering.

"are you cold even tho im touching you?" miche asks from behind. you know that him and erwin are smirking at each other, knowing you are becoming a putty in their hands. you yelp when miche's hands slide under your bra to take your breasts into his hands.

"you're so small." he aws, his fingers pinching your nipples. erwin takes his place at your lips again. you know that he's way more experienced than you by the way he's kissing you. no matter how hard you try to kiss back, he still keeps his dominance over you.

erwin drops onto his knees to massage your thighs. his hands fondle thr fat plush of your thighs under your dress and you know what he wants to do.

"can i?" he asks and you nod your head, giving him permission. he slips his hand under your dress to touch you over your panties. he strokes your clit before pressing his tongue flat on the cloth. you feel your knees bucking and you would fall if miche wouldn't catch you.

"careful, sweetheart." he says against your skin as he places kisses down your neck and collarbones.

erwin hooks his fingers on your panties so that he can pull it down. she smiles when he faces your dripping core.

"look at how tiny she is." he says at miche who is busy painting your neck with red love bites. he slithers his hand to the front so that he can touch your clit.

"she will be trouble taking us." he says against your neck, making you shudder.

"do you think you can take us?" erwin asks you, flaming your cheeks. you close your eyes, looking down at your legs but you don't answer. you squeak when miche hits your pussy with his palm.

"he asked you something." he says, slowly massaging around your clit. you want to moan but you know that you have to answer first, not wanting to get them angry.

"i can." you mumble quietly, looking down at you feet. both of the men laugh at your answer, muttering words of disagreement.

"go lay down on the bed." erwin instructs, leading you to the bed. he can miche exchange few words that you aren't unable to hear but you guess what they were talking about when they both start undressing. you feel embarrassed by eying them down. every piece of clothing they take off is like a part of a private strip show just for you.

"look at how hungry she looks," miche says, "i feel like she's gonna start drooling every minute."

your jaw falls down when your eyes lay on their hardened dicks. you have never seen a dick as big as theirs. you curse at yourself mentally for saying that you will be able to take them.

miche walks up to you with his cock in his fists. he stands by your body, looking down at you. you yelp when he flips you over, positioning you on your hands and knees. he places his cock to your lips, using his thumb to over your mouth. he slides his cock inside of your mouth, grabbing the back of your head to set up a face. just the weight of his cock inside of your mouth makes you dizzy.

"come on, suck it." he growls and you swirl your tongue around his cock. you suck on his tip but miche makes you swallow more.

"come on, i know you can take more."

you feel tears fill your eyes as he thrusts inside of your mouth. he isn't gentle in any meaning and every choke of your makes him wanna go even harder.

you jump when you feel large hands on your ass. you turn around to look at erwin kneeling at your back but your turned around by a light slap on your face.

"girls can focus on two things at once so you can focus on sucking my cock while he fucks your sweet pussy." miche says, giving your cheek another tiny slap.

erwin's fingers slide up and down your slit, gathering the slick there. he chuckles when he feels you gush more at his fingers.

"you have no idea how much i want to fuck you without any prep." he says as he slides one of his fingers in. you moan around miche's cock when erwin hits your sweet spot. one of his fingers is as big as two of your fingers so you scrunch your face when he adds another. soon he slides them out and you know what's coming next. you can feel your body tensing just at the thought of taking such a big cock. miche notices and he bends over to stroke your back. you fail to notice that he's making sure that your back is arched so that both men can watch your ass.

you close your eyes when erwin presses into your entrance. his big head is difficult to in but soon he's halfway in. you feel like you're being split in half but you continue to take him in.

"she's too tight." erwin moans, leaning down over your back so that he can bottom out.

"wait... are you a virgin?" he suddenly asks and you shake your head. both of the men look at each other and they smile.

"well, im gonna fuck you as a slut then."

he thursts in with all he has to give, making your body fall down on the bed. he starts thrusting in fast and deep thrusts, your whole body trembling. you are unable to stop moaning at the way he slides in and out. miche doesn't like the way you let go off his cock and he grabs you by the hair to get your mouth around his cock again.

"nu uh, that's not how it's going to go. suck it or im gonna become really mean." you sob, tears filling your eyes as he forces you on his cock again. erwin smiles at the scene in front of him, his cock hitting your cerwix with every thrusts. you feel your body becoming weaker at the way they are treating you. your mind goes hazy when erwin slaps your ass. your whole body goes numb as you near your orgasm.

"don't you dare cum." erwin says but you are far gone to hear him. you cum under his thrusts, your whole body shaking. your feel your consciousness slipping under the intense pleasure.

you wake up on the bed confused. you aren't sure where you are but the salty taste on your tongue reminds you where you are. you feel disgusted when you notice you are covered in cum and you disgust even more at the cum leaking out of you. you try to stand but your legs give up and you can falling on the floor. the sound of you falling makes both of the men appear at the door, laughing at you.

"looks who tried to run away." miche says, walking up to you. erwin leans on the door frame saying, "you're not going nowhere, get on the bed and this time we promised we won't be so rough."

#aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #erwin smith smut #erwin smith x y/n #erwin smith x you #erwin smith x reader #miche zacharius x reader #miche zacharius smut #miche zacharius x you

[beamtori]

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝.

nonidol!ji changmin x afab!reader

2.4k words (HELP it's only this long bc there's like an actual plot low-key 😭💀), smut (minors dni), cunnilingus (face sitting/riding), cum drinking(??), kind of fingering?, kissing, swearing, descriptions of blood/stitching, mentions of violence/fighting/weaponry, changmin's a boxer? fighter dude?, a lot of arguing and banter, use of pet names (spitfire, baby), angst HAHA!

a/n: once again, this was FOR ME. :l if im being so for real tho, i should have made them fuck piv bc that would have actually scratched my itch, but i just had to go and make him injured 🙄

Ji Changmin was stupid.

"You are so—"

"Stupid? Yeah, you've said that five times already."

"—annoying," you finished with a snide, little smile, relishing in the way his pretty eyes rolled. You gave the thread between your fingers a forceful tug through your gritted teeth to snap the end off; a part of you loved the way he flinched.

You and he were currently holed up in the dimly lit space of your bedroom where he was getting blood all over your sheets, and stupidity all over your floor. (Did you say you thought he was stupid yet? No? Well, he was stupid.) The idiot had gone and gotten his stitches ripped out again, which was the exact opposite of what you told him to do.

You stood looming over him between his legs to take a look at his busted shoulder. The last time, he had gone out and gotten it sliced open. That would teach him to bring a gun next time—you shouldn't even talk about his fists. That would make you pop a blood vessel. His damn knuckles were split open like a row of splattered blueberries—blue and purple and ugh.

"When I come home for the day, the last thing I ever plan to do is more work," you muttered to him as you threaded your needle and began stitching up his gash again.

He winced slightly, digging his teeth into his bottom lip. "So you're saying you've never planned to do me?"

You met his eyes for a split second. His eyebrows flicked upward in suggestion; you made a particularly generous piercing into his skin.

"Shit," he hissed, sucking in a breath. "I said I was sorry."

"For what."

"For doing my job—"

Your eyes narrowed into a glare. "Your job? Your fucking job isn't to get the shit beat out of you every other night, Changmin."

"Oh, so you care now?" He fired back.

Your mouth snapped shut and you continued to work quietly. It wasn't like you didn't care about the nitwit, but you weren't about to admit it point-blank. His ears would never hear that you cared that much, but here you were, letting him into your apartment at god knew what time it was to patch him up again. You didn't know why he always came to you. You quit the boxing ring infirmary months ago, and yet, he always ended up at your doorstep.

When he realized you weren't going to say anything, his uninjured arm took your jaw between his fingers. He looked you in the eyes—you saw the dim lighting of the bedside lamp light a fire in his gaze. Or had that always been there? "You care about me."

You tore your head away. "Oh, fuck you."

His grin was wolfish. "Is that an invitation?"

"One day—" you huffed, knotting the thread and tossing the bloodied needle and tweezers onto the nightstand, "—I'm gonna rip you a new one, Ji Changmin. Or maybe you don't need one 'cause you're already a huge asshole."

He gazed at you, and you weren't sure what it was, but he looked enamored. "Fuck—can you just sit on my face already?"

Everything halted for you. "What?"

"Come on, spitfire; you heard me." His head cocked to the side in challenge. "Sit on my face. My arm might be useless, but my tongue sure isn't—"

"I'll be back," you interrupted sharply before your face got any hotter. You could feel his eyes on you as you scurried into the bathroom next door like a little field mouse.

His audacity was going to drive you to insanity one day.

You found the extra package of gauze and bandages in your medicine cabinet, the ones you had forgotten to grab when he'd come stumbling into your bedroom. You weren't sure why you hadn't forced him onto the kitchen counter like usual, but that was a worry for another time.

He was still there waiting for you. Your gloved hands were bloody and there was a pile of tissues on the ground that you would have to clean up later. You returned to your space between his legs and felt his heavy gaze on you as you pressed gauze to his shoulder and began to wrap his arm back up.

"Yn, I'm sorry."

You pressed your lips together, finishing off the wrap with a small pat on the side of his arm. "You're good to go," you said, "now leave so I can clean up."

You were snapping off your gloves when you heard him get up and approach you. "Yn."

"Don't wanna hear it." You kind of did want to hear it, but that wasn't the point. The point was that you needed to stand your ground and ensure he wasn't about to come running back to you every single time he fucked up.

Hands on your shoulders. The world spun for a quick second. He pressed you up against the bathroom door with the gloves dangling from your fingers and your dignity just two seconds away from dropping. You could see the gleam of sweat on his brow, how deep his dimples dipped into his cheeks; you could smell his musk and the blood, the latter having been slightly muffled now that the wound was closed up, but there was still the matter of all the other blood-stained surfaces.

"If this is another thing to get me in bed with you, then you can forget about it," you said. It happened twice before; you really couldn't do it a third time.

"Can you just listen to me for once?"

"Ah, so just like all the times you listened to me?"

Changmin fixed you with a look. "Has it ever fucking occurred to you that I keep getting hurt so I have an excuse to come see you again?"

Your breath hitched. No, that had certainly not occurred to you. But why would he deliberately get hurt all the time just to see you? Could he not just… see you? Then again, you probably would have still been skeptical of his motives—

"No matter how hard I get hit, Yn; no matter how hard you pinch me with your fucking needle—"

"Why?" You asked. Though the word was soft, it was enough to cut through.

He blinked, his good arm bracing against the door behind you. "Isn't it obvious? I like your stupid face."

Your heart slammed against your ribcage. You could hear it thundering in your ears, the battering of a drum. "You're insane," you swallowed.

"Insane about you." He let out something akin to a laugh, head ducking, but you could see the imprint of dimples in his cheeks. "Isn't that crazy? I'm doing all of this shit because I didn't have the balls to just tell you from the get go."

Changmin dropped his hand to your face, the rough pads of his fingers finding your chin again. His eyes met yours and you could see the softness of the corners, the tenderness of his irises as he looked at you. Perhaps the fire you always saw sparked in them were there for a reason different from what you assumed.

"You're not gonna say anything?" He murmured with a swallow. "Not gonna give me a piece of that spitfire mind this time?" Had he read the signs wrong?

"Why would you go and get yourself beat up just to see me?" That was all you were able to get out of your mouth.

He licked his lips. "'Cause I—I don't know. I'm stupid. Wanted an excuse for you to touch me."

"Glad we can agree on something," you said. "But I like your stupid face, too."

And it was the lack of space that coaxed you into pressing your lips against his. Or maybe it was the coat of saliva over them that made them look so appetizing. Or maybe, more simply, this was long overdue. Twice you had fallen into bed with the boxer, and yet, you couldn't count the number of times you'd shared a kiss with him, shared the same air as him.

You were careful about his injured shoulder, the corresponding arm draping around your waist while the other still clutched your chin, but now cupped your cheek.

A moan slipped out of you as he swiped his tongue over your lip and into your mouth. Your back pressed flush against the door, your body shoved between it and Changmin.

"Wanna taste you," he husked between kisses, taking every breath from your lungs like a souvenir for him to keep. "I have to taste you—been craving you for weeks."

His words curled something sweet in your belly, but you had to protest. "Your shoulder—"

"Fuck my shoulder."

You shoved him off for a second, the both of you heaving for oxygen with pupils dark and dilated. "What do you mean 'fuck my shoulder?' I just fixed the stitches, Changmin."

He exhaled and carded a hand through his hair, taking one of your hands pressed to his chest into his. "Then sit on my face. I don't have to be on top this time."

"You're impossible."

"Not impossible," he shook his head, a smile working its way onto his face.

You sighed as he kissed you again.

That was how you ended up backing him up against the edge of your bed and pushing him down to take a seat. He grabbed your waist with his hands as you stood between his legs, lips molded into yours. You placed your palm on his chest to coax him backwards.

You climbed over him, letting yourself straddle his waist.

His fingers slid down the front of your body to cup you through the fabric of your shorts. "You wet for me?" He muttered.

"Bone fucking dry," you quipped.

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband and you felt him smirk. "Liar."

He found the wet spot in your panties, dragging his fingers in lazy circles like he was collecting your arousal as proof. You made a soft noise against his mouth and subtly grinded yourself into his digits.

"Okay, get your cute butt up here," he said and abruptly removed his fingers from you, giving your ass an affectionate pat.

You sat down on the bed beside him to kick your shorts and panties off. "You're so demanding," you grumbled, but straddled him again and slowly inched yourself up.

He grabbed your hips and hauled you over his face for you, a squeak falling out of your mouth. "You were going too slow," he said to you with his voice slightly muffled.

"And I haven't done this before." You let out a shuddering breath, bracing your palms on the bed above his head. His breath on your wet lower lips made you grasp at his hair.

"Baby's a little shy?" He cooed, massaging your hip with his hand. "Oh, fuck me. Sit, Yn."

"I'm literally—oh."

The flat of his tongue pressed against your pussy and licked a generous stripe up your opening.

You swore and grinded yourself down onto his mouth. "Are you—" you gasped, his lips suckling your clit, "—can you even breathe?"

"Why would I wanna breathe? I'm doing just fine," Changmin replied in a heavy daze. You heard him inhale deeply and moan. The sound itself was enough to make your thighs shake around his head.

He prodded your opening with his tongue, fingers digging into the globes of your ass like he was holding a bowl and drinking from it. Tongue fucking you open, his nose bumped against your clit with the movement. That telltale tension slowly built and curled in your belly, a warm coil of something molten.

You weren't sure how he was even curling his tongue so far up into you, but you grappled his strands of hair like reigns and rode him. The pleasure mounting in you was sweet and you were growing desperate—you writhed on top of him, his name engraving itself in your mouth.

"Changmin," you gasped in your frantic chase for release.

His reply was a strong hand anchoring you to his mouth, encouraging you to use him for your own pleasure.

When that high came, you cried out, body staggering forward. His hands still chained you to him as he slurped your slick up. The sound was obscene, and seemed to echo in the walls of your bedroom. Your thighs convulsed from the extra stimulation.

You huffed, brain muddled. "Fucking hell," you said through labored breaths, gently lowering yourself onto the bed next to him when he loosened his grip.

The sight of his face was nearly enough to make you come again. His skin glistened with your come, eyes glazed over and dark as he looked at you with his head lolled to the side. His lips were pink and plump, and his tongue darted out to swipe over them as if he were catching any residual fluid.

"You doing okay over there, Min?" You asked, leaning over to brush his bangs from his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm—" he let out a laugh and his mouth curled into a smile, "—I'm fantastic."

You laughed, hanging your head.

"I've always wanted to do that," he admitted.

"Yeah?"

"Even better than I thought, to be honest."

Your skin heated at his words, and his warm chuckle following sent a jolt down to your core. He reached over with his good arm to thumb your chin up. "I meant what I said, by the way."

"That you're stupid?"

He rolled his eyes, and shook your head with his hand. "No—that I'm crazy about you."

There went your heart again. The organ in your chest never failed to skip every other beat when it came to him. He just had a way of making you trip in the best way possible.

You squeezed your thighs together, his eyes darting at the movement. "Wish you would have just told me sooner."

"I should've," he agreed. "But let me make it up to you now."

You crawled over him and lowered your lips over his; you could still taste yourself on his tongue. "Not with this injured shoulder, you're not."

He groaned in protest, reaching around your body to pinch your side. "Damn."

"But," you drawled while sliding your hand down the length of his body and cupping his cock through his jeans.

His hand grabbed at your thigh as he moaned into your mouth.

"That doesn't mean I can't do anything for you."

a/n: imagine the image in the banner is how he looks post-this-fic

tbz m.list

#the boyz smut #the boyz x reader #ji changmin smut #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #the boyz drabbles #the boyz oneshot #the boyz scenarios #ji changmin oneshot #ji changmin imagines #ji changmin scenarios #ji changmin drabbles

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexYou Dinner Party Part 1/3

I didn't manage to finish the next enemies to lovers part (I got half way!). I DID manage to write the start of a Dinner Party short series based on the @thebitchycloudpainter's idea. THANK YOU :D this was a hoot to begin to write.

Summary: As you and Gale settle into your life post-elder brain, you pitch the idea of gathering everyone for a dinner party in Waterdeep. Gale begins the whirlwind of preparation, setting the stage for the party itself. Content: fluff, some angst, mutual pining, mention of chronic pain, mostly fluff tho for the Sunday scaries

Master List |

It was hardly a few months time when Gale began to lament about how long it had been since you and your companions saw one another. As the stillness of life settled around you and he, you realized how much stimulation Gale needed to feel satisfied. He was endlessly curious and in many ways, your almost cataclysmic adventure was well suited for his temperament. 

Despite his aching knees and persistent gnawing where the orb once nestled and despite some days where he was unable to find the energy to rise from bed, he craved excitement. In incremental and practical doses, for the most part. 

When you tossed the idea of a dinner party half-heartedly, you were startled when he took it and began to weave together an elaborate chain of thoughts. He shot up, enthusiasm coursing through his veins as he spoke louder, his hands gesturing in wilder strokes as he went on: “Oh! Yes! What a fantastic idea, I knew I loved you.” He smirked and shot a wink, before pressing his fist against his pursed lips. “Should there be invitations? Of course there should be, Gale. Don’t be silly. Lest we forget our manners - Tara would never allow it, let alone my mother.” He shot you a knowing look, brows raised. He began to pace. “Invitations always feel a little.. old fashioned and archaic.” He stopped to catch his breath and you felt heat spread across your cheeks as you beamed at him. Although the idea of a dinner party knotted your stomach, to bring Gale joy and see him so exuberant, it would be worth it. “Listen to me, drolling on,”  he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips. His hot breath against your skin made you shudder. “What do you envision my love? We could very well use the sending stones. How decadent though, to send out invitations for something as simple as a dinner!” He dropped your hand after kissing it once more, the energy whirring through him. He walked towards the picture window, watching the sun dip lazily on the horizon. “Everyone loves receiving proper mail, wouldn’t you agree?” He turned back to face you and you felt butterflies twist your stomach when blush coated his cheeks. He looked bashful, his large  brown eyes honeyed pools. “Why are you looking at me as if I’ve sprouted tentacles?” Gale’s eyes glinted with mischief. He loved teasing you. Once he realized though, a soft, “ah” escaped his lips. “It’s because I’m getting caught up again, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” you said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around his waist and pulled him toward you. You brushed a stray hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. You love how he leaned into your touch, igniting your skin as it sung with his. “I love it when you get carried away, please continue.” 

“Are you certain this is something you want to do? I have a few faint ideas on how to reach Karlach and Wyll. Ah! And I’m sure Tara wouldn’t mind me joining her and Wither’s Wednesday Tea Time - she’s been pestering me to join her for some time. Perhaps I can seek out his assistance. OH! And the menu! What shall we have? There are so many possibilities…” as you saw Gale’s mind work, you whispered against his lips how much you loved him. You felt him tremble and sigh as you pulled away. 

“You were our appointed chef! Everyone’s had your cooking you salvaged from pitiful scraps. I’m sure whatever you prepare, it will be excellent and they will be thrilled. Think about how inspired everyone will be when you have access to actual spices and produce.” You leaned forward to kiss him again and he welcomed you in. A few moments passed, your hands exploring one another, lips tenderly synched as your tongues mingled and you tasted fresh green tea. You were enveloped in each other. He groaned as blood pulsed to his groin and you felt heat spread between your hips. 

“Yes, but this is different! What if they don’t like what I prepare? You remember how picky some of them were-“ he was interrupted by your charming laugh and gentle kiss. Whenever you noticed him get too wrapped up in his thoughts, you knew your lips at the very least would silence his protests if he would not or could not hear your words. You were happy to offer whatever encouragement and validation you could. 

“Give yourself more credit. You’re an excellent cook, and you have wonderful friends who like and admire you - I know they will love having a real, decent meal prepared by you. I’m surprised Karlach isn’t at our door already, eager and ready to eat.” You smiled despite the pang echoing in your heart for your friend. You missed her and hoped her and Wyll were safe in the hells. 

At this, Gale beamed. You remembered how he loved feeding Karlach especially - her enthusiasm for life, food included, made those who her compliments touched delighted. “You’re right. I am so glad you thought of this, you’re brilliant and I love you, so very much.” He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you passionately, the kind of kiss before someone runs off to safe the world. 

In this case, it would be preparing a dinner party. 

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale #gale x you #gale x reader #gale fluff #gale dinner #bg3 gale fanfic #bg3 gale fanfiction #gale fanfic #gale fanfiction

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 11

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, touching, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

You feel like you can finally catch your breath once Lee leaves for work. Even so, what happened in the car lingers. You sit with Hickory, playing with a feather toy, but find it hard to settle down. Maybe it’s because you’re not used to this place, or maybe it’s him.

Why did you say that? 'You just did. ‘It’s all for you.’ You cringe to think of it. You must’ve sounded so dumb.

The kitten tires and you watch him fall asleep. You move him to the cat bed in the corner and go into the bedroom. You want to sleep on the couch but Lee didn’t think it was a good idea. He told you if he found you on the couch, he might have to tan your hide, whatever that means.

You can’t get comfortable, not really. You recline against the pillows and scroll restlessly through your phone. You should sleep. You have to get studying done tomorrow and you never get very far when you’re exhausted. Your motivation to even start is tenuous at best.

Your phone buzzes. A message from Lee. You wiggle and press down before you can think. Shoot, he’s going to see that you read it. You won’t be able to lie and say you were already asleep. You’re not very good at lying anyhow.

‘Still awake?’

A simple message but it feels like more. You shift and answer it honestly. ‘Yes’.

He isn’t long to reply. You almost hoped he’d be too busy with work. You see the three dots pending.

‘Good, you in bed tho?’

Again, an honest answer. And once more, the dots.

‘Naked?’

You almost throw your phone. Oh god! Why– you can’t even think of it. Being naked in his bed. You just stare at the phone, trapped in the decision. Yes or no? Lie or the truth? You don’t know which one he wants.

Your phone starts to shake, more than just a message. You answer the video call but don’t say a word. You’re entirely unprepared for this.

“Hey, darlin’,” Lee greets, “ah, lookit you, getting cozy.”

“Uh, sir, yes,” you sit up completely. “I just… Hickory just fell asleep so–”

“Shh, shh, shhhh,” he hushes you as the chatter of voices babbles behind him. “I’m just taking a break.”

“Oh,” you blink at the screen, seeing yourself in the corner. You can’t see too much of him in the shadows.

“Sweet thing, I want you waitin’ for me naked.”

“What?”

“In the mornin’, when I get in, I’m gonna crawl right in and give you a treat.”

“Lee, sir, I–”

“Now, darlin’, I don’t got time to argue with you. Right? I’m workin’ hard here. Literally,” he snorts, “I gotta be here so I can keep care of Hickory, so you just be good girl for me and be ready.”

“I…” you bite your lip, “yes, sir.”

“That’s what i like to hear, blossom, you get lots of rest,” he smiles, “oh and, don’t be shy with that toy. You wanna make sure you know how to feel good, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum and give a frantic nod, burning with humiliation.

“I’ll be thinking of you. Prettiest girl I ever knew,” he makes a kiss noise and hangs up.

You lower your phone to your lap. You glance over at the night table. He left the toy there. You don’t touch it but tug at your shirt. You can only hope he’s too tired in the morning, or forgets all about it.

💮

A waft of cool air wakes you up. The blankets ripple over you and warmth crawls up your legs. You open your eyes and look down at the lump beneath the covers.

Lee’s breath fans over you, making your twitch. He kisses your leg, just above your knee, then higher, and higher. Up and up and up as he pushes between your thighs. You squeak as he opens you to him, his hand trailing along your pelvis.

“Lee!” You squeal as goosebumps prickle across your skin.

He hushes you just before his nuzzles into your warm cunt. His cool tongue dips between your folds and you quiver. You grasp the blankets in tight fists and arch your back. He laps at you hungrily, groaning loudly as he drinks you up. You’ve never felt anything like this, not even with the toy.

He stretches his arm up, tickling your stomach, then cup your chest. He reminds you of your nakedness as he fondles you, purring into you. You gulp and gasp, overtaken by the vibrant sensations.

His other hand tickles along your ass and up your thigh, pushing it against his face. You moan, eyes rolling back as you sink into the mattress. He slips his hand to your hip and suddenly rolls over, taking you with him.

You cry out and sit up, perched atop his face as the blanket falls away from you. He lays flat on his back, hand firm on your hip as he forces you to stay. You twine your fingers into his thick hair as you wobble atop him, lifting the brunt of your weight from his head.

He guides you, tilting your pelvis as he flicks his tongue, spreading it wide, sucking, and tasting. You follow his motion, easing into it, your delight driving your building fervour. Stupefied by your sudden awakening, you can’t stop. You want more. You’re almost there, that familiar peak fast approaching.

He purrs and gropes your ass. He encourages you as he buries his face against your cunt. You feel him moving beneath you, his arm reaching down his body. You flutter your eyes open and peek over your shoulder. He’s playing with himself at the same time.

He urges you to keep going, drawing your attention back with a pinch on your ass. You exclaim and clutch his hair. You rock over him, riding towards your looming climax. You hang your head back and whimper as your motion turns spastic. There it is.

You cum, bucking desperately until you crest the rise. You descend, slowing, rolling your hips as you cling to the after waves of pleasure. Lee turns his face away and puffs out, grunting loudly as he quakes beneath you. He bites into your thigh as his arm pumps faster and faster.

He stills, unclasping his teeth from your flesh. He juts out his square jaw and snarls. He slaps your ass and nudges you off of him.

You unhook your leg from over him and fall onto your ass, hiding behind your bent legs as you hug them. Lee holds out his shiny hand and chuckles. He still wears most of his clothes but his pants are halfway down his thighs.

“Wasn’t that a treat indeed, sweet thing?”

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #au #drabble #series #nightlife #the devil all the time

[doxypsychlean]

Comforting them: Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond One-Eye Targaryen

|Headcanons|

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: So ep.10 got leaked...Poor Vhagar, old girl probs just acted out of habit. Can't blame her tho. If some kid spat in my face out of nowhere, I'd probs do the same.

He just can't catch a break. Especially with Aemond around.

Kid throws him under the bus 24/7

"Aegon told me", "Aegon did it", "It was Aegon's idea", etc.

Their lord father ignores them for the most of it and lets the two do what they want.

He wishes he could say the same about their mother.

Not spending enough time with his siblings? Smack. Teaching young Aemond dirty jokes he'd heard from strangers on the Street of Silk? Smack.

She definitely beat his ass once she found out he'd taken Aemond to a brothel. It was bad. Aegon walked around the castle with an imprint of the Queen's hand on his face for a week straight.

"You should be watching over them! They're just children!"

His mother often forgot he was a child himself.

He'd start to shut off to the world.

Then your paths will cross.

He's so deprived of affection, Aegon can't help himself but to stick to you like glue the moment you show concern for his well-being.

From that moment on, he runs to you whenever something bad happens.

His father yells at him? Off he goes, searching for you.

His mother slaps him around? He shows up at your door late at night and without saying a word, throws himself into your hands.

You're the only person he truly loves and cares for.

Years pass. You two- no longer children.

When the Queen breaks the news to him that he'll have to marry his sister, he simply shrugs his shoulders.

"No."

"I don't believe I asked for your opinion on the matter, Aegon."

"And yet here I am, telling you it won't happen. I'm not marrying Helaena."

"Then who? Who will take you?"

"I've got someone in mind."

Smack. Smack. Smack.

He comes back to you later that evening, lower lip split and bloody, a bruise on his cheek.

He's smiling from ear to ear.

"We're getting married, you and I."

"Come again?"

The Queen had relented after a long monologue on his side.

Long story short, he'd explained to her how you'd been there for him through all these years. How you were the only person that had ever showed love and affection for him. How he'd rather jump from the highest tower of the Red Keep, than have to spend the rest of his life without you.

He'd always been a manipulative little shit.

But he was yours and you were his.

You live your happily ever after.

Together.

He'd tried everything at this point.

He even prayed once.

Still, no dragon.

He hated the Dragon Pit.

Standing around as his brother and nephews bonded with their dragons was painful to watch.

Not to mention the three princes always made fun of him.

Then came the day he had the displeasure of meeting the Pink Dread.

You were walking around the enormous castle while your lord father was busying himself with discussing "urgent matters" with the King. You came across a guard dragging this dirty white haired boy in the opposite direction, towards the Queen's private quarters.

"What happened to you?

"A dragon."

He didn't know you.

That bugged him to no end.

Not long after, Aemond approached you.

He was spoiled and arrogant, that much was obvious.

Then his brother and nephews appeared, as if out of nowhere. His confidence -poof- gone.

"Brother, will you be accompanying us to the Dragon Pit? It's about time you take the almighty Pink Dread for a ride, don't you think?"

The boys left him there, red-faced and squeezing his small fists in rage.

You tried asking, but he ran off.

An hour or so later, Aemond was back.

He told you all about the cruel jokes.

About how he'd do anything to have a dragon of his own.

Kid actually cried a bit.

Made you swear to never say a word about it.

Instead of cowering in fear, you offered a sad smile. And a bear hug. Like, one of those that damn near breaks every bone in your upper body.

Ooh, that's all the young prince needed to develop the fattest crush on you.

You turn into a permanent resident of the Red Keep.

Don't ask. He has his ways.

First thing he does after coming back to King's Landing on dragon back was head for your chambers.

"Guess what?"

"Oh Gods, Aemond! What happened?! Are you alright?!"

"Nevermind that, guess how I got back here?"

"Who did this to you?"

"Ugh, just come with me."

He drags you all the way to Vhagar.

You and the large dragon stare at eachother as the prince smiles like a madman.

Something inside you is telling you that you and the beast shared the same thought. He's mad. Completely fucking insane.

You knocked his ass to the ground right then and there.

You could've swore Vhagar let at a huff of approval as she watched you try and knock some sense into Aemond.

He never bothered to wear his eyepatch around you.

You might have hinted to him that blue suits him.

Yep, you chose the sapphire yourself. He insisted.

It turns sour once the people around court start staring and commenting on his appearance.

All it took was for you to have a little chit-chat with one or two noble ladies for the rest to quiet down.

Still, Aemond's insecurity grew with the years.

Good thing he had you around to reassure him.

"Gods, you look fine. That damn patch won't grow legs and run off, Aemond. Relax."

"Hmmmmm..."

He's definitely blushing every time you say something like that

You've definitely had to kick Aegon's ass a few times.

Aemond wasn't sure if it was even possible, but he sorta fell more in love with you every time you dragged his brother to him, so Aegon could apologize for his rudeness.

The years went by quickly.

One day you receive a letter from your lord father. He'd decided to marry you off to some Lannister lord.

You run to Aemond. Tears streaming down your face, the letter from your father still in your hand.

He quickly snatches it from you. The second the words settle in, he turns his back on you and leaves you to stand there, heartbroken and confused.

Both him and Vhagar dissappear from the capital for a few days. Absolutely no one knows where they are.

He returns not long after, during the hour of the wolf.

"You'll be marrying no Lannister. Not while I'm around."

"What did you do?"

"Nevermind that, the matter is settled."

"You idiot, what did you do?"

"Ugh, just come with me."

He drags you to the throne room.

His whole family is there, along with the High Septon.

You get where this is going.

You two get married that same night.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #game of thrones #hotd #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #headcanon #requests open

[macabremuscle]

I need you to write that nasty fic idea for Corey because it was *A+* and also drop that audio >.>

Ok I should have known someone was gonna want me to do this. Thank you anon for being an excuse to write this because let's be honest, I'm the one who wanted this originally. I just wanted you all to enable me into committing 😂

For those asking, the audio I'm basing this off of has its own little plot so I'm not using it as a guide, just inspiration I guess, but link to the audio is here. Uhhh yeah mind the tags ok? 😅 this was written in one go with no editing so excuse any typos.

Pairing: Corey Cunningham x Fdom!Reader (its implied with mommy kink but I dont think reader's gender is specified anywhere. tagging as f reader just to be same tho)

Warnings: smut, Fdom x msub, pegging, lots of mommy usage, talk of mpreg but it's not what you think, naughty words I guess

Word Count: 1202

No minors for the love of all that is holy!!!

Sometimes you almost pitied him. The way he'd cling to you like a lost puppy. So desperate for your attention and kindness. You didn't want to take advantage of his hard life, you knew he had struggled socially even before the accident but now... He had such a hard time both in public and at home.

You wanted to dote on him every chance you got. He deserved it. But he made it difficult by wanting to always dote on you. Corey thought his life was over after that night. Everywhere he went, eyes glared. Mouths hissed in whispered hatred. Everyone in this town hated him and he knew it. But not you. Somehow, you saw past everything. You knew about him and you didn't care. Corey felt he didn't deserve you, you were too angelic. And he wanted to make you know how much he appreciated you every second of the day.

But you wanted to turn it back on him now.

You felt his face turning beet red against your skin. Corey was sat on your lap, legs straddling yours as you worked your lips along his jawline. Your hands grabbed fistfuls of his ass and you grinned at the breathless whimper he let slip out.

"P-please.." he breathed out, and he wasn't sure what exactly he was even asking for.

"Use your words baby. What do you want?"

His face flushed again, the words in his head almost too naughty to voice. You decided to force them out of him by rolling your hips up into his, feeling his erection grind against your belly and he shuddered at the sensation. The strap on lashed to you, however, was gently prodding his ass with every movement of your body.

"Touch me more..." Was all Corey could say, his head dropping to your shoulder as he felt his cock twitch in his pants. The wet stain on the front of his jeans becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"Does my good boy want me to make him feel good?" You cooed. He only nodded in reply. You weaved your hand into the curls of his hair, slowly angling his head back to look at his face.

You had only been making out and grinding against one another for a little but he was already flushed and disheveled like you'd run him through the ringer. His eyes glazed over in lust, lips opened for small pants of air. He was a sight and he had no idea how much it stirred feelings within you.

You leaned forward and pressed a deep kiss to his lips. Corey immediately moaned and opened his mouth, his tongue flicking out against your mouth, wanting your own to come and invade. You followed his wishes and let your tongue dance across his, the feeling sending another shiver through Corey and more moans and whimpers began to fly. He whined when you tugged his hair to break the kiss.

"On the bed baby." You gave his ass another light squeeze before letting him free to get off you. He almost seemed loathe to peel his body from yours but he knew even more was coming and quickly did as you said.

Under your intense gaze Corey shed his clothes as fast as his shaking hands would let him before all but flinging himself down on the bed, the wood squeaking in protest.

You walked up and stood between his spread legs, trailing your fingers in delicate touches up his thighs causing his legs to quiver in excitement.

"Please!" Corey begged again, more desperate this time than he'd plead before.

"Tell me baby, what do you want?" You asked him again.

Corey's eyes locked onto you and the intensity of it nearly knocked your breath from your lungs. His brown eyes always held a smouldering ember deep in them, like the flame of his passion had been quenched but not extinguished by the cruelty of Haddonfield. But in moments like these, the fire blazed bright. Roaring with lust, love, devotion, desire, something you could never fully label.

"Breed me." He said so confidently. All sense of nervousness and shyness gone in his want for you to claim him as yours.

You couldn't resist lunging forward to capture his lips in another kiss. Corey's hands wrapped around you, tugging your form to his as his hips bucked up of their own volition. He moaned loudly at the feeling of your strap brushing up against his throbbing cock.

Wordlessly you hurried to yank the bottle of lube off the table, smearing huge globs of it on your awaiting dildo. Corey nearly cried when your hands spread some over his hole, a finger slipping inside with ease making him jolt.

"I'm ready. Don't tease." He ground out behind clenched teeth.

With a smile you nodded and positioned yourself. Easing in slowly you whimpered yourself at the heavenly gasps escaping Corey. Every inch deeper you sunk into him, another loud cry sang out.

With a sigh, you felt yourself bottom out, Corey's quivering body beneath you. You gave him a moment to acclimate before giving an experimental thrust. You were gifted with a whine. How could you not do it again? Soon your hips were snapping against his in a steady rhythm. The walls of your bedroom echoing with the sounds of Corey's pleasure.

"Mmm... Mommy..." You heard a soft mumble and after it sank in what he'd said you paused. Corey's blissed out face scrunched in confusion as to why you'd stopped. Then realization dawned on him and his face flushed redder than you think you'd ever seen it before.

"I-I'm sorry... I don't know why I- oh FUCK!" Corey all but wailed when you tossed both his legs over your shoulders, leaned over on top of him, and began pounding away at the perfect angle.

"That's it. My good boy. Mommy's perfect boy." You panted out between thrusts. Your voice breathless in your own lust. Corey shook his head, your straps tip brushing that spot deep inside him sinfully made him see stars.

"God yes... Mommy please fuck me! Breed me!" You don't think you'd ever heard Corey so desperate before. His hands were fisting the sheets on either side of his head, thrown back in pleasure. You could tell from how much louder he was whining, he was about to reach his peak.

"You gonna cum for me sweet boy?" You purred, taking a hand and running it across a nipple on its way up to cup his cheek and force him to look in your eyes. His own eyes opened and you could see the sparkling of tears lighting his eyelashes.

"Mommy... Fuck a baby into me! Ahh!" Corey's own words sent him into his bliss. His back arched off the bed, as much as your mating press would allow him to, cum spurting across his belly as a shuddering wail reverberated the walls.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before he finally came down from his orgasm. His eyes were unfocused as the gazed up at you with utmost love and worship. You bent down to kiss the remnants of his tears away.

"I love you baby."

#corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham #corey cunningham smut #halloween ends #my writing #anon asks

[iamthecomet]

Swiss and Dew on a cute lil date but Mountain gets jealous when he sees the two out by his bedroom window (even tho they're all poly) because Dew was supposed to hang out with him and Cirrus tonight and have a nice sexy time but now Swisstopher stole Dewdrop and Mountains horny, and jealous. What ever shall he doooooo?

Oh my god, FUCK. I've been sitting on this for over two months and I'm so sorry. I LOVE YOU.

Mountain doesn't usually feel jealousy. He's not used to the way it feels like a knife in his gut. Especially not when it comes to his packmates. There is no possession. No ownership. They are free to do whatever, and whoever they want. At any time. They all know it. But, he feels it now. A toxic twist in his gut as he watches through his bedroom window as Dew and Swiss set off across the Abbey grounds. Dew's supposed to meet him and Cirrus in five minutes. Supposed to end up pressed between the two of them, hot and keening. Sharp teeth worrying marks on both of their necks as Cirrus begs Mountain for worship but demands it from Dew. Not that Mountain minds alone time with Cirrus, god, there is almost nothing better than having her full attention pinned on him. But he and Dew had a deal, a plan.

And Dew, obviously, picked Swiss over him. It shouldn't make him feel anything. He should be able to push away from the window and move on. Enjoy his night spent between Cirrus' thighs. But he can't.

Dew hasn't come to him in weeks. He's been splitting his time between the others, ping-ponging through them with practiced ease. But Mountain's bed has been cold, no fire ghoul in sight. It's starting to make him frustrated, nervy. Jealous. Dew's notorious for shirking plans. It's a personality trait Mountain assumes. Something he can't help. And Mountain's a little more rigid, he likes things the way they are. No sudden movements or changes. So it's easy to try to twist his sudden, unhelpful, jealousy into frustration over Dew's flightiness. It doesn't really work. He's too busy thinking about how Dew's probably on his knees for Swiss right now, in one of the garden sheds. When he should be on his knees for Mountain. Mountain should be the one shoving his cock past those spit-slicked lips, into that impossibly warm mouth. Pressing the head to the back of Dew's throat until he sputters and gags and still tries to take more. Dew should be begging to swallow him down. Mountain shoves away from his window and out of his door. He passes Cirrus on the way, tells her to wait for him. He'll be back in a minute. He has a fire ghoul to wrangle. He steps out into the cool spring air. It's dusk. The edges of the sky are still glowing pink. Stars start to flicker into view above him. The grass is cold against his bare feet. Mountain sets off across the grounds. He knows all of Swiss and Dew's secret places--everyone does. So, it doesn't take long to find them. All he has to do once he reaches the gardens is listen. Swiss is loud--doesn't know how to be anything else. He hears a ragged moan come from the smallest shed, then a thump that is no doubt Swiss' fist hitting the wall as Dew gets to work. Mountain rolls his eyes, and swallows the bitterness of disappointment. He didn't want to be right about what Dew and Swiss were doing out here. He wanted to find Dew high, forgetful, giddy. Instead, he's got Swiss' cock in his mouth when it should be Mountains. Mountain throws open the door. He's met with the mismatched glow of Swiss' eyes from the dark. Swiss smirks at him. "Hi Mount." One of Swiss' hands is laced in Dew's hair, cupping the back of his head. With the other, he offers Mountain a wave. He's trying to feign nonchalance, but it's not working. Especially not when Dew does something that makes Swiss hiss.

"Droplet," Swiss says, tugging at Dew's hair. "We've got company." Dew pulls off enough to talk, his lips bumping against the wet head of Swiss' cock. "I don't care." "We had a date," Mountain says, his voice rougher than he means.

"Did we?" Dew says with a shrug. "Give me a few minutes, this isn't going to take long." Swiss growls, opening his mouth like he's about to spill some vitriol, but Dew sucks him down again and the only thing he can do is moan. Mountain could start in on a tirade right now. He could berate Dew while he sucks Swiss off in the shed, but he knows better. Knows that there is nothing he can say to make Dew actually listen to him right now. That there is only one way to teach the errant fire ghoul a lesson--and even that isn't a guarantee. He sneers, slamming the door shut and stepping away from the shed. Much to Swiss' chagrin, Dew's right. It doesn't take long. Less than five minutes later Dew steps from the shed, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. Swiss follows. He ruffles Dew's hair as he turns back toward the Abbey. "Good luck." "Don't need it," Dew says to his retreating back. Mountain grabs him hard by the bicep. His hand is so big his fingers meet when he drags him forward.

"Yes, you do," Mountain says, low. He drags him back toward the building, tugging him along like a ragdoll. "What the fuck, Mountain." Dew pulls against the hold but there's nothing he can do. He has to jog to keep up with Mountain's long strides. "You need to learn to honor your commitments."

"I need to what my what?"

"Were you even coming at all?" Dew shrugs as Mountain shoves him through the Abbey doors and into the ghoul wing. "Eventually. Probably." "Brat," Mountain sneers, crowding Dew down the hallway toward his room. Dew looks back at him, he bats his eyes at him innocently and the realization hits Mountain like a brick. "You did this on purpose."

Dew shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not. You're more fun when you're angry." Mountain sneers. He knows he should ignore Dew for this. That he shouldn't give in and give him exactly what he wants. But he's half hard in his pants, and he's been looking forward to bending Dew over something all day. Dew opens Mountain's bedroom door. Cirrus is waiting, sitting cross-legged on Mountain's bed. She looks up at both of them. Always attentive it only takes her a glance between the two of them-- noting Dew's self-satisfied grin, and Mountain's twitching eye--to get the whole picture. She holds Mountain's gaze for a minute, then nods sharply. "Hi, Dew" She says, opening her arms to him. Dew snickers, hopping up onto the bed and kneeling in front of her. He leans forward, nuzzling his face in her neck. "C'mon, Cir. Fuck me. Ruin me." "No," Mountain says climbing up onto the bed behind him, dragging Dew back to press against him, he grinds his rapidly fattening cock against Dew's spine. "You really think we're going to fuck you after that shit?" Dew goes rigid in Mountain's grip. "Wait, I--" Cirrus rolls to her knees. She cups Dew's hand in between her palms. She presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "You're going to sit next to me, and put your hands on the bed and keep them there while I fuck Mountain until he cries."

"What? No. That isn't--" Dew sputters. Mountain laughs, low and predatory right in his ear as he drags a hand up over his narrow chest to curl across his throat. Dew sags against him.

"If you're good maybe I'll let you cum too." Cirrus says, dragging one of her nails down his jaw. "Maybe?" Dew snarks." Cirrus raises a dark eyebrow, her plush lips curling into a smirk. "Maybe not."

#comet writes #ficlet #request #chi #mountain x dew x cirrus #dew x swiss #Mountain/Dewdrop/Cirrus #Dewdrop x Swiss #Swiss/Dew #Ghost fic #ghost fan fiction #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fic

[celerydragonfics]

feral!au extra

this is a scene i wanted to include but decided it would be too OOC, but i wanted to write it anyway so i did. consider it non-canon to my fanfic hahahahahahahah

so uhh, here. have 2k of feral!lwj smut

Wei Ying is mostly joking when he offers to help Lan Zhan with his massive boner problem. It's just! He looks so pitiful laying there on the floor, his cock stretching out the damp fabric of his sweats! He arches his back occasionally, hips flexing upwards as if he's fucking onto something, but there's nothing there.

He doesn't expect Lan Zhan to agree–he thought he'd get another cute little glare, maybe a huff, then he'd have to spend ten minutes trying to get him to look at him again.

But to his surprise, Lan Zhan shows interest in his teasing. That, more than anything, is a clear sign that Lan Zhan 's mind is not in the right place right now.

"What did you have in mind?" Lan Zhan’s voice comes out strained, hoarse. Wei Ying, who was already half hard just from Lan Zhan 's scent, swallows.

"Uhhh," he begins, eloquently, "I mean… if you come here I can show you?"

Lan Zhan squints but slowly does as he's told, moving like liquid, if liquid were a predator. There's definitely something about the glint of the muzzle that makes him look …dangerous. Like there's a reason he's in there and Wei Ying is it here 

Wei Ying shakes his head. He remains seated where he is, looking through the bars at Lan Zhan, kneeling opposite him. His eyes flick down to his prodigious erection and he has to swallow again.

"Well, first things first, you need to get your equipment out," he teases. Lan Zhan inhales slowly, "Or I could do it?" Wei Ying jokes.

"Mn."

"Oh." Wei Ying wets his lips. Ok. He can do it, then.

Lan Zhan waits, still as stone, for Wei Ying to reach into Lan Zhan's room, past the bars, to tug his waist tie loose.  He watches Lan Zhan’s chest, stomach, move as he breathes harder, faster. Wei Ying lifts the hem of his shirt, slips his fingers underneath the waistband, and carefully tugs it downwards.

Naturally, Lan Zhan isn't wearing underwear.

Naturally, his cock springs out, already flushed and rock hard. It twitches. Wei Ying suppresses a whimper.

"Ah, Lan er-gege, you really have been blessed down here, huh?" He says, but the words don't have the same edge to them as they usually would.

Wei Ying touches the very top with his index finger, and Lan Zhan jerks, a sharp inhale through his nose. It twitches again. Wei Ying trails his finger down the shaft, tracing a vein all the way down through his pubes to lightly graze over his balls. Wei Ying doesn't mean to linger here, but…. Well, he doesn't exactly have balls of his own to play with. He cups them under his palm, and rolls them between his fingers–even with all the alphas he's worked with in the past, he's never gotten this chance before.

"Wei Ying–!" Lan Zhan grunts, and Wei Ying finally notices that Lan Zhan is hunched over, fists clenched, jaw tight.

"Aha, sorry! I said I would help and I'm only making things worse, huh?" He makes the switch quickly, wrapping his fingers around Lan Zhan’s cock and stroking him off. He's bigger than Wei Ying, in both length and girth. Each stroke takes longer and, somehow, that makes it feel dirtier. Like Wei Ying is taking his time with it.

Wei Ying uses all the tricks he can think of–twisting his fist over the head, using both hands, fondling his balls–to make him come quicker.

Predictably, it doesn't take very long for Lan Zhan to finish. His breaths come shorter, harsher, just the slightest hint of a moan as he comes, white streaks all over his lap–Wei Ying points it away from him, but still manages to get some on his hand.

"There, feeling better yet?" Wei Ying asks, surreptitiously sniffing the dribble of Lan Zhan’s come on his pinky finger, "maybe you should have a drink now, yeah?"

"Mmm," Lan Zhan’s eyes are still closed. His abs are still twitching from the aftershocks, even tho Wei Ying is no longer touching him. He's too cute. This is officially his second orgasm!

When he finally relaxes, Lan Zhan diligently crawls to his basin to drink from it directly, not bothering to tuck himself back in.

Once he's had his fill, he comes right back to Wei Ying , sitting across from him. Expectant.

He's still hard.

Of course. Until his rut is over that thing won't go fully soft unless he's asleep.

"You want more?" Lan Zhan frowns slightly, but nods regardless of Wei Ying's teasing. He looks meaningfully down at his crotch. Wei Ying bursts into laughter,

"What, do you think I'm just gonna sit here all day and jerk you off? What kind of person to you think I am? I'll get cramp! Here, I have a different idea, but you'll need to stand up for it."

Lan Zhan shoots to his feet, eager to obey at the prospect of another orgasm. He sways on his feet.

Laughter bubbles up inside Wei Ying: what is this? Lan Zhan is acting like…like he's drunk or something! Drunk from his first ever handjob. Too cute.

"C'mere," Wei Ying coaxes, holding in yet more laughter as Lan Zhan waddles right up to the bars. Wei Ying grabs him by the hips and guides him a little to the left and a little further forwards, closer, closer, until his cock slips through one of the gaps. Lan Zhan understands instantly, pressing his body up against the bars and holding onto them–his head has to turn sideways a little, as the muzzle adds an extra few inches of length to his profile.

Wei Ying looks up at him and suddenly things aren't quite so funny anymore. Lan Zhan shifts, just slightly, and Lan Zhan’s cockhead swings sideways to hit Wei Ying’s cheek. Wei Ying gasps. Lan Zhan’s scent glands are pouring sex pheromones into the air, and this close Wei Ying is…intoxicated. He lets his lips fall open, mouth closing around the crown.

He doesn't mean to moan.

“Uhm, I–” Wei Ying tries to make some kind of excuse–nothing swims to the surface of his mind–but Lan Zhan interrupts him with a hand to his hair. There are no thoughts in his mind after that. He lets Lan Zhan draw him in, easily opening his mouth to accept Lan Zhan’s cock, careful with his teeth.

He’s…never done this before. Not with the real deal. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to give it his all! This is going to be the best, most memorable blowjob Lan Zhan will ever receive!

He moans again, accidentally, when Lan Zhan thrusts forwards. It’s not as if there’s much space for him to manoeuvre, but the suddenness of the movement catches Wei Ying off guard anyway.

Spit drips over his chin.

Wei Ying hums, bobbing his head, reaching maybe halfway down his length without difficulty–he lets go of Lan Zhan’s hip with one hand, using it instead to jerk off the expanse that Wei Ying can't take.

Hands rove his body, stroking his hair, petting every part of him that he can reach, sometimes edging just a little on being too rough–his thumb presses against his Adam's apple in a way that has him almost gagging.

He defines a rhythm, steady and slow, for himself, pausing every now and then to lave his tongue over the tip, giving his jaw a break.

"Lan Zhan, you're really big, you know?" He praises, in between kisses, "you could do a lot of damage with this weapon, if you're not–nng–careful!"

Wei Ying sinks down on Lan Zhan again.

Lan Zhan firmly, borderline roughly, fists his hair, pushing him onto his cock.

Wei Ying splutters, pushing back against his hips with his hands, but Lan Zhan is an alpha and, even behind bars, he is a force to be reckoned with. Wei Ying finds himself forced to take Lan Zhan’s cock deeper and deeper, tugged back a scant few millimetres, then pushed even further. His scalp stings. His dick pulses at the treatment.

Lan Zhan’s cock touches the back of Wei Ying’s throat long before Wei Ying’s lips touch pubes. Wei Ying chokes, a burst of strength finally surging through him, and he shoves Lan Zhan back just enough that he can turn his head, panting.

Somewhere above him, Lan Zhan makes a surprised sound at the loss of his mouth.

“Lan er-gegeee~” Wei Ying complains, breathless, as Lan Zhan humps his cheek–tiny movements he doesn’t seem to fully be aware of, “lan zhan, you’re too rough! I can’t blow you properly when you’re yanking me around like that! I thought you were going to be good for me, hm?" 

"I…" Lan Zhan's eyes are screwed shut, "I am trying–hhh…" Wei Ying kisses the closest part of his cock that he can reach.

"Aiyouu, I know it's hard for you! It's your first time and everything is too much! You just need to remember that omegas are very delicate, hm? If you're too mean to me I might start crying."

His cock pulses against his face.

Wei Ying bites back a wave of laughter and coyly rubs his face against the soft inner part of his thigh, where the most potent scent glands are,

"Oh, dirty Lan er-gege, you want to make me cry?"

Lan Zhan shakes his head desperately, but his body is telling a different story: the hand fisted in his hair hasn't loosened at all, and his cock is still oozing precome onto his cheek.

"Just want…" Lan Zhan sounds hoarse, broken, "Wei Ying."

And really, how is Wei Ying supposed to respond to that? Flushed pink at the earnest plea, Wei Ying takes pity on Lan Zhan, opening up for Lan Zhan’s cock and allowing Lan Zhan to push him down.

Lan Zhan fucks his mouth sloppily, chasing only his own release. Wei Ying takes it, his own cock throbbing in the confines of his work uniform but unable to do anything about it.

Wei Ying isn't sure how he misses the fact that Lan Zhan is knotting for so long. He only notices when Lan Zhan pushes him down extra deep and his lips stretch even wider around him. He makes a very shocked, wet noise, eyes flying wide open–he's knotting! This is his first knot, ever!

Wei Ying scrambles to wrap both hands around the swelling at the base of his cock, applying gentle pressure. Lan Zhan moans, tugging Wei Ying deep, keeping him there. He grinds like that, keeping Wei Ying with his lips stretched open around the thickness of his knot.

Every time Lan Zhan touches the back of his throat, Wei Ying jerks, a full body shudder, and his eyes are watering for real now. When he blinks, a lone tear rolls over his cheek.

Lan Zhan spasms. Wei Ying chokes on the flood of come that explodes down his throat – but he can't move, he can only accept every last drop of it, swallowing it all down. It lasts forever. Wei Ying keeps squeezing and massaging his knot, encouraging his body to let it all out.

Wei Ying's vision is sparkling at the edges when Lan Zhan finally, finally finishes. He pulls off, a feeling not unlike ripping duct tape away from skin, and tries not to cough too much. He keeps his hands firmly around Lan Zhan’s knot–he's going to be stuck here like this for at least half an hour.

He wishes he had a scrap of fabric he could use to bind his knot, but his hands will have to do. If he relieves the pressure, Lan Zhan’s body will be ready to go again much sooner: like this, it's tricking his alpha brain into thinking there might be a pregnancy from this.

"Lan Zhan, ahh," Wei Ying's voice is embarrassingly scratchy, "aiyouu, I'm so full now! Er-gege you filled me up so well!"

It's not a lie: he can feel Lan Zhan’s come, hot and heavy inside his belly. If his hands weren't already otherwise occupied, he would be trying to feel the difference.

Lan Zhan gasps, scandalised, and his knees finally give way. He sinks to the floor in a barely controlled heap, and Wei Ying finds himself pulled right up against the bars, stretching to keep hold of Lan Zhan's knot. It's not a very comfortable position.

"That good, huh?" Wei Ying teases, "do you think you'll listen to me again next time? The whole purpose of a rut is to come a lot!" In the olden days unmated alphas would use their ruts as an excuse to sleep with as many omegas–or anyone!–as possible.

Lan Zhan nods slowly, dazed.

"Wei Ying was right," he says softly.

#Tumblr only #fic #feral au #im out here making fanfic of my fanfic i guess

[saeyoungchoismaid]

Almighty Arataki Extraordinary and Exhilarating Extreme Beetle Brawl!

Pairing: sub!Itto x (slight mean)dom!gn!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: edging (m!receiving), public sex, hand jobs, teasing

Summary: Itto thinks he can call you his right hand and outside help, and get away with it. Little did he know, he'd get into some trouble because of it.

WC: 789

A/N: this is based on the beetle event! You don't need to have played it to read this tho lol

“(Y-Y/n)...” 

You smirk, tightening your grip. “What is it, Bona-Fide Beetle Battle King? Hm?” you coo teasingly.

“I can’t…I need…” Itto stutters, whining and throwing his head back. 

“What do you need? Hm? What can your right hand do for you?” you taunt. 

You lift said hand and spit on it before returning it to his hard cock, continuing to slide your hand up and down. 

“(Y/n),” he whines, gripping your thigh tight in his hand, “I didn’t mean anything by that. You kno–ah!” He cries out when you circle his tender tip with your thumb, causing pre to dribble out of the slit. 

“Oh? You didn’t?” you taunt, tilting your head to the side. You bring your left hand up to his chest, starting to paw at his right pec. He whimpers and leans into your touch, your fingers tweaking his sensitive nipples. 

“No!” he cries, biting his lip afterward when your hand suddenly speeds up. 

“Oh, but I’m just outside help. Remember?” you taunt, squeezing his poor, aching cock and starting to twist your wrist as you reach the top of his dick. 

“I’m sorry! Please! Just let me cum!” he begs. You quickly smack a hand over his mouth and stop your movements, moving your head to glance around the giant rock you were hiding behind. Your eyes look over all the people here for the beetle fights, eyeing them for a moment before focusing back on Itto. His face was as red as his beetle, his eyes teary with the number of times you’ve edged him. Everyone thinks he’s giving you beetle-battling tips. Little did they know, you’re giving his tip the battle of a lifetime. 

“Why should I? Hm?” you goad, keeping your right hand still but removing your left one from his face to allow him to speak. Instead of speaking though, he just pathetically whimpers as he starts thrusting his hips up into your hand. You smirk. 

“Oh-ho, the poor baby. Does it hurt? Hm? Does someone need to cum?” you coo, your fist getting tighter as he continues to thrust up into it. He moans wantonly before panting into the air, a drop of sweat gliding down his temple. 

“Yes…please…I’ll tell them you’re a leader of the gang too…that you’re the best beetle fighter there ever will be…whatever you want, baby…just–ngh…please!” he says breathily, the muscles in his stomach starting to tense with his impending orgasm.

You let out a long hum, pretending to think it over. He turns his teary eyes to you, silently begging as his hips start to move faster and faster. Veins have started to protrude on his naval right by his v-line, more and more appearing as he continues to get worked up.

After a minute or so, you shift your body more in front of his, hovering over his legs outstretched before him. You lean over his red cock and let a glob of spit, it stretching from your lip and breaking halfway to land on his member. With even more lubricant, he starts moving faster and faster. 

“That’s it, baby. Use my hand like your own personal fleshlight. Cum all over it,” you hum, bringing your hand back to his chest to play with his tits. He quickly smacks a hand over his mouth as his orgasm washes over him in waves, his eyes rolling back and his body shaking with the power of the ecstasy he feels. He’s never cum so hard before in his life. 

Strips of cum do end up landing on your hand, but most end up on his chest. You smile at him and keep pumping your hand until he starts whimpering from sensitivity. “Good job…such a good boy…I’m so proud of you…” you whisper as you start licking the cum from his chest. You give extra attention to his nipples, causing him to mewl. 

“Hey, guys! Grandmaster wants to know what’s taking so long?” you hear Paimon shout, her voice getting closer and closer. You quickly tuck him back into his pants and pull away from him just as Paimon rounds the corner. “He–oh. Why are you so red, Bull-Chucker?” 

“He was getting angry because I was criticizing his techniques,” you brush off, standing up and helping Itto stand as well. He wobbles a little when he gets up but quickly leans into you in a casual way. 

“Yes…ah, yes! Exactly! Compadre here was-”

“No time for explanations! Grandmaster over there is soiling our good name! We gotta go prove ourselves!” Paimon shouts, moving behind you and starting to push you both toward the awaiting child. 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLISTS

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⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #itto x reader smut #itto smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin itto #genshin impact itto #itto #smut #nsft #nsft itto #nsft genshin #nsft genshin impact #itto x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact

[vargaslovinghours]

Requestober 2023: Vargas Edition

The playlist has returned for this year! There will be a few in between, but it should be updating at least once a week on either Wednesday or Friday or both - keep an eye out for your req(s)!

I considered a couple different lines for day 1 - there are just so many Narrator lines that could work for Scriabin! Any of the many times where the Narrator is being sadistic, it all just works. Plus, it’s fun to imagine Scriabin trapping Edgar in the same way, just shoops a wall right into his path haha

But in the end I went for one of the tags I left myself on the original TSP/Vargas crossover doodles, it does still live in my head rent-free after all. You can see in the background that those “invisible” tears were intended from the beginning as well :3c

There’s also something funny to me about Scriabin using the word “rubbish” haha ♪ How posh

Edgar, as usual, getting blame for something that was definitely his Narrator, I mean Scriabin’s fault lol

I really wasn’t sure what to do with day 2 at first - I’m too scared to watch any of the SAWs, or look them up on YouTube >~< I tried finding transcripts with stage direction or people describing them in text online but I couldn’t really find anything, I really do appreciate my friend for telling me about one haha. Even with that though, I still had to do a lot of guesswork! Something about wrists, fear, not doing well - Scriabin is very cute hiding behind Edgar but it’s still not very obvious what the theme is, huh?

I was able to find a very brief animation of I think? the trap that had been described to me but even that was a bit much for me :’D I was a very wimp that day! I didn’t even have it in me to draw the trap itself in the sketch! There’s something a bit ominous about not being able to see into the trap completely, only the blood pooling at the bottom ♪ But I’m still happy I went with what I did in the end, though I did have to change Scriabin’s dialogue from fear to accusation - though that tracks for him haha

Day 3 was silly and therefore easy to whip up haha ♪ The angst is done, the blood is done, this leaves only kisses! Any opportunity to use my pencils to make kiss-marks, I will take lol. Clearly this is what the prompt was pointing at! Obviously! Lol

If you look, Jake’s lips are painted pink and Scriabin’s red, and they have each other’s lipstick marks on their faces lol - I am attention to detail when it comes to kisses ♪

I did still end up making an alt even after pretty much decided on the first one, it’s still fun to think about Scriabin interacting with Jake before he gets his own body ♫ He’s so smug lol, at least they’re easy to cover! Ish! Mostly! Probably itch tho lol

Day 5, yaaay some Biblical Edgar <3 I have been out of practice drawing wings lately so they’re basically just Big Shapes here lol, it’s all about blocking out the space they’ll take for when it’s cleaned! I am quite happy with how he turned out digitally, his cute face ♥

Day 7 got a couple passes as well before settling! It’s a theme lol, though there were both kidverse! The prompt mentioned “brothers” but that doesn’t necessarily mean when they were kids - they can be silly and sibling-like even After, they have the range. Still, Edgar pushing him on the swing as a kid was a cute idea so I’m glad I at least scratched it down haha. Why’s he so heavy? He’s dense ♪

The alt was the winner tho! I love how much like a bug Scriabin looks here haha, how could he have possibly seen this coming??

Day 8′s sketch was done outside in the dark actually, stargazing very appropriate!  You can kinda see me go back and forth on their clothes in the moment lol, Edgar’s striped shirt visible on his upper arms underneath his long sleeves and I still ended up going with a scarf! I also planned to make their breath clouds but I forgot them in the end, that background took up a lot of my focus lol. Also how come Edgar’s feet turned out better here than in the final version >:P

Gaster! A warmup for Day 9 since it’s been a bit since I’ve drawn him, especially with the cracks in his face! Scriabin is annoying his offscreen so it still totally counts as being Vargas-themed lol

Their poses were a bit subdued initially so I knew I wanted to try again, but at the same time there are a lot of elements here that I liked! Especially their hands, Gaster holding his hands in fists at his sides rather than speaking to Scriabin through sign language, and Scriabin with his flourish-opened palm, inviting ♪

Actual pose skeletons lol, though Gaster’s was a bit top-heavy. It all worked out in the end at least :)

Day 11 was a very fun concept! Turning Scriabin into an Enderman was an especially fun idea if Edgar could figure/find out that he could hide from him using a pumpkin mask, though I’m sure that would make Scriabin mad as well once he found him haha. Just sneeaaak quietly behind him, he’ll never know! Also the pumpkin having Edgar’s glasses, goatee, and scars carved into it haha <3

All the same, I’m glad I went with what I did - Scriabin’s pose is so much more dynamic! Very fun! His hands and his legs, and the way his coat flares out! Plus putting his Ender teeth on display was a lot of fun haha ♪ Poor Edgar can’t catch a break no matter what world he’s in, at least I didn’t actually turn him into a sheep lol

Day 12, yaaaay I finally got to Uncle Jake! So nervous <3 Don’t break the baby, don’t hurt him don’t move too much ahhh! Haha, terribly cute ♥ I do still really love how confident Edgar is here - he’s usually so nervous around Jake, but oh how the tables! Dadgar with a support system <3 His FWB comes to say hi to his son, it’s very wholesome hehe ♪

Day 13 was actually drawn way of out of order, between several of the later days and even day 12 I think lol, it’s so hard to convince my brain to listen to new music haha. It was quite a lot of fun making the text not look like it’s “spoken,” outside of a text bubble hehe, I don’t do that too often! And of course still deeply inspired by his palette challenge, it is too pretty to not pull from every not and again <3

Honestly I initially had no ideas for day 14, and yet this was still the only sketch I ended up with! My earworm at the time came in clutch, honestly do listen to Everything In You it’s such pretty yearning starcrossed song ah <3 All these musical doodles haha ♪ Sweetness sweetness <3

And of course when they’re that close there has to be a kiss! Scriabin is surprised, but how much? :3c Edgar giving Scriabin kisses of his own accord 💖 That theme never really left me either hehe

Day 27, the last Vargas day! Had to get in one Snake Charmer before the end huh haha ♪ It’s too bad my Ladyverse!Naga idea was a bit too long or I would’ve done that, but I’ll never turn down the potential for pretty clothes! And spiders for that matter haha, I went with the Acanthoscurria Geniculata - Brazilian Whiteknee again :) As much as I love Scriabin as a Bold Jumper, tarantulas just have such gorgeous proportions! And of course, I always enjoy drawing Lady!Scriabin, so it was doubly fun to draw her as a spider :)

That’s all of this year’s Vargas sketches! A fun bunch! And it was fun to mix a few others in as well :D

#💟 #Doodles #Art #Edgar #Scriabin #Jake #Nny #Todd #Blood #Sketchdump #And there's also a Gaster and a couple AUs hanging around in there as well haha #It was a fun bunch this year! And a bit more equally spread haha I appreciate it :D #It also makes compiling my roundups easier so I doubly appreciate it! Love it when my sketchdumps don't break on me four times lol #For the record this one didn't break even once ♪ Very well behaved haha #As usual I always go extra on Day 1 lol - but even with the extra time I tried to keep things a bit smaller scale this year :3 #I mostly succeeded! Still the occasional bonus or big piece haha #And lots and lots of alts - also the usual haha #But even with that there were still carryovers between everything! A couple of pieces here got my lighting itch - especially the last one #It was technically lazy cell shading but y'know what! It ended up looking cool! I will always take that haha #Anyhow ♪ Since they took up the front there have already been a few Vargas speed draws posted! Take a look for yours! :D #And thanks again to everyone for participating <3 It was a fun year!

[psychedelic-ink]

kinktober '22 ║ XV

pairing: jack daniels x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 1.2k

summary: It's late when you leave the office, you feel a pair of familiar eyes watching you.

warnings: consensual noncon, possesive!jack, alleyway s.ex, bondage, creampie, mentions of aftercare

a/n: I would like to point out again that everything in this is CONSENSUAL and even tho this is made aware in the fic, some parts of the dialogue can be triggering considering the nature of the kink so please read accordingly. This is a scene playing out between two consenting adults

MLISTS .  LIBRARY. TAGLIST . KINKTOBER '22

He watches you. 

You feel him as you head home, the concrete wet and the air cold. The streets are empty, the clock nearing 2 AM. Nothing good ever happens after 2 AM, you think as you’re reminded of one of your favorite sitcoms. You flinch each time you take a step, hating the way it echoes within the alleyways. The only semblance of security you have is thanks to the man watching you through the shadows. He likes it. And you like being the target of his undivided attention, enjoy feeling the fear of never knowing when he’ll show himself. He also hates it when you get off of work late, and hates that other’s get to spend more time with you. 

You hear him when you turn into another alleyway, this one especially dark. Your heart is beating fast now, the small hairs on your nape standing up with unease. Squeezing your fist, you feel the keys poking out from between your fingers. What if he wasn’t watching you? What if it was someone else? 

He allows you to hear him, allows you to hear his steps. When you feel the warmth of his breath tickling your neck, you turn, hand striking forward in order to hit whoever is lurking behind you. The grip around your wrist is strong, he bends it and your mouth opens to scream, but before you can let out as much a peep his large hand covers your lips. You don’t see his face as he pushes you up the wall, you can only feel the familiarity of his lips, of the whiskers that tickle the back of your neck. 

“Such a pretty thing,” he rasps, his voice hoarse but still carrying that melodic tone. “Now, what on earth are you doing out alone?” 

“Trying to get home,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “Let me go, please,” 

“And why should I do that? I caught you didn’t I?” 

He pins your wrists against the small of your back, your keys falling down with a clatter. You struggle against him briefly, amused, he grunts, and before you know it you feel him tying you up with something made of leather. You manage to hit him with your shoulder when he slides his hand down to cup your asscheeks, arousal gathers between your legs and you feel your face growing hot. 

“How was your day, buttercup?” 

The question takes you by surprise, you blink before responding. 

“Good,” 

“Good.”  

You should be used to it by now, but the random questions he asks every time at the beginning still manages to surprise you. You know why he does it. Once you told him that you didn’t like him constantly asking if you’re okay, and he wasn’t comfortable in going on without checking in, then he came up with this, a random question to pull you back into reality for a brief moment. To let you know that he was there for you, no matter what you needed. If you answer negatively he stops, simple as that. 

His hand slides between your thighs and cups your heat, he growls at how wet you are, his breathing heavy in your ear. You attempt to struggle again, he clicks his tongue with disapproval, pressing you further into the rough surface of the wall. You hiss at the way it scratches your skin.

“Behave,” he groans, hips rutting into yours.

He unbuttons your jeans and tugs them down, hands finding refuge in the heat of your dripping cunt. His teeth sink into your neck, fingers moving along your folds and stopping at your clit, only to draw rough circles around the bundle of nerves. You gasp, his name falling from your lips. Your wrists strain against the binds, he laps at the salt of your skin. 

“Look at you, so wet already,” 

You tremble at the way his voice dips, his fingers make you clench, your thighs pressing together while he continues to grind his cock into the curve of your ass. Without a second thought you roll your hips down to his fingers, the wet sounds make your stomach roll. He chuckles, his warmth breath fanning your skin, and brings his hand to your lips. 

“Suck, taste how good I’m making you feel babygirl,” 

You press your lips into a thin line, moving away. Jack swiftly grabs your chin and forces your lips apart, shoving his fingers inside and pressing them into your tongue. Your legs shake at the taste, a moan rippling in your throat as you swirl your tongue around them. 

“That’s it, you’re takin’ my finger so well darlin’, so fucking well– Can’t wait to feel you squeeze my cock sweet thing,” 

When he’s inside you, it hurts. His cock stretches you in a way that no other man has ever done, the pain burns your insides and mixes with the pleasure. Your eyes roll back, moans slipping from your lips as your aching pussy wets his cock. Soon the pain is nothing but a pleasant pressure, the alleyway echoes with the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your legs tremble, noticing this Jack wraps an arm around your waist, his lips pressed against your ear as he sings utter filth. 

“You’re so tight– You’re so beautiful like this, stuffed full of my cock for anyone walking by to see. You like it when I claim you darlin’, does it excite you?” 

Your chest wants to cave in. The way he slams his hips is mind numbing, knocking the air out of you with every thrust. You’re spinning, the wind blows cold against your sweaty skin and you finally let your head fall back, surrendering yourself to him. You feel his lips on your skin. His one hand sneaks under your shirt, squeezing your breast while the other toys with your clit. The weight of his cock feels heavy inside you, sliding in and out with ease as you come undone around him. 

“That’s it, show me who you belong to– So goddamn pretty,” 

You’re trembling, body feeling shattered as he continues to rock his hips even deeper into you. Slick drips down his length, a white circle staining the base of his cock. 

“Take it all,” he rasps, both hands on your ass as he drills into you. “Fucking take it–” 

Your jaw drops, a loud moan escaping you, with urgency he covers your mouth, drowning the noise. His hips stutter, burying himself into you again and again as he fills you with his seed. It feels amazing, so amazing that you close your eyes, another orgasm tingling deep within you. You know you don’t have time for another one, you are out in the open after all, but the thought alone makes you flutter around him. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, voice shaky. “You good sugar?” 

“Y-Yeah,” 

Cum trickles down your thighs when he pulls out, your body shivers at the feeling. Jack watches only a moment before untying you and pulling up your pants. He holds your waist, your one arm around his broad shoulder as the two of you make your way out of the alleyway. 

“The car is parked nearby,” he says, his voice soft. “We’ll head home, I got you your favorite bath bomb,” 

“I hope you’re going to join me cowboy,” 

“Only if you want me to,” 

You giggle at the uncertainty in his voice, it makes your heart swell. 

“Well if you don’t join me who’s going to wash my back,” 

When you see him finally smile in earnest, yours becomes wider. 

“I guess you’re right darlin’.” 

kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch, @queenofthecloudss , @prettyouttherethoughts , @reaperofmen , @partr1dge , @bbyanarchist , @alwaysdjarin , @thevoiceinyourheadx , @absurdthirst , @levi-llama , @damnyoupedro , @stardust-galaxies , @all-the-way-down-here , @welcometostayingawake, @bullet-prooflove

#jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader x frankie morales #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x fem!reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #kinktober '22 #kinktober 2022 #smutober

[celestialking]

Funz x gn!reader where they all go shopping and the reader is trying on some clothes which turn the boys on and stuff. yeah I'm really bad with asks haha but I saw your post about funz and karlnap so I though I would try get my brain to come up with something :)

Well you did good, I like this idea :) a bit short tho

NSFW 18+ only - Minors/Ageless blogs DNI

Warnings: gn, public, degrading (Punz receiveing),

You boys would do anything for you; and you would do anything for them. Which of course meant they were happy to trail along after you as you went shopping today.

The day had started off wholesome but quickly turned into a bit of a mess as things like this would look so cool to this would look better on the bedroom floor

You told Foolish his new chains were gonna look great when he was above you, perfect for catching it in your teeth.

Punz practically fainted as you said you wanted his new rings against your throat.

The breaking point was when you began trying on clothes.

They were gone as you stepped out in your 4th outfit. Looking over to see Punz was hard though was a delight.

You motioned to Foolish who caught on right away.

"Let's go. I think angel has a stuck zipper,"

You let them both into the changing room with you. Foolish plopped down on the small bench dragging Punz into his lap.

"Wanna tell baby how good they looked?" Foolish asked.

Punz would have answered, if he could. The raven had a hand covering his mouth tightly, his other hand moving quickly to the blonde's jeans.

"Why don't you help angel?" Foolish grinned, lifting the blonde a bit so you could tug down Punz's pants.

Your heart was racing, taking Punz in your hands as Foolish yanked his boxers down.

"There you go baby," Foolish whistled softly as you wrapped your lips around Punz's cock. Gently Foolish's hand pushed you down to take him fully. "Just get him nice and wet for me,"

You pulled off after a few bobs letting Foolish's hands replace your mouth. His pace was ruthless making the blonde arch his back into his hands.

Your hands rested on Foolish's knees, gripping tightly. Muffled whines and pants left Punz with every stroke.

"Oh sorry, you can't speak can you slut?" Foolish whispered.

Punz's eyes went wide with fear, slamming his own hands over top Foolishs to keep him from moving. He was terrified someone was going to hear his noises eventually. It didn't take a genius to figure what was happening if someone should hear.

The slick noises of his dick being fisted did nothing but burn his cheeks and fill his stomach with fire.

"Cmere baby," Foolish laughed breathily. "Get your mouth ready baby, don't spill a single drop,"

You nodded and leaned forward to do as he asked. As soon as Foolish felt Punz was close enough he removed his hand and let you finish his off.

Punz's eyes rolled back as soon as he felt your warmth wrap around him. He shook, filling your mouth with a low moan.

You swallowed, using your tongue to clean up and residual mess until Punz shoved gently at your head.

"Let's finish up so we can have our own fashion show at home," You smiled softly, getting up from the floor.

Foolish kissed the side of Punz's head as you both put him back together, a small hum in agreement.

"One preferably without clothes?" They both looked at you hopeful.

"Maybe,"

#celestial:whispers #celestial:scribbles #celestial:fooshg #celestial:pnz #punz x reader smut #punz smut #foolish smut #foolish x reader smut #mcyt x reader smut #mcyt smut #<main smut tags will be up for a short time then deleted

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Hesitance (500 Celebration)

500 Celebration Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Prompt: From the Quotes category: “He had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved and is forced to improvise.” This prompt got away from me tho. So badly.

Word Count: 4330

Warnings: Fluff, angst, some stuff regarding Ivar’s issues with recieving and giving affection and touch, and more than anything, my writing. Again, quite ooc, I’m rusty as fuck ಥ_ಥ

A/N: Hi again! I have no idea if this is any good, but it was fun to write! So yeah, sorry if it is bad or whatever, but I’m Marie Kondo-ing the shit out of writing, and this one sparked joy, at least for me, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It still is a strangely familiar routine for Ivar, that of starting his day by going out to search for a glimpse of you in the crowds that make up Kattegat. Granted, when he used to do it before he didn’t know what he does now, he didn’t know what it felt like to hear you say you love him, he didn’t know the soft feel of your skin under his fingertips, he didn’t know of the warmth that fills his chest whenever he manages to make you smile.

He didn’t know many things back then, even if it wasn’t that long ago. He also didn’t know he would one day be scouring the town for a glimpse of you so he could, of all things, apologize.

But then again, many things that then seemed impossible have come to be now, and finding himself willing to do almost anything for you is not that surprising.

Since that first kiss, it feels as if you have found a way to reach into his chest and do with his heart -with him- as you please. And if how he reacted to the first brush of your lips against his is anything to go by, he gathers you know that as well by now.

He remembers he felt like trembling all over, from the breath that stuttered past his parted lips as you leaned close enough to brush your mouth against his, to his shaking hands that he curled into fists on his thighs to keep himself from reaching for you, lest you felt his touch and realized it was him you were kissing, lest his hands on you broke whatever spell you were under that made you believe he was someone else, someone worthier, better.

And those thoughts still linger on his mind, sometimes becoming louder than your own voice promising words of love, and those thoughts warn him, each time he reaches to grasp your hand in his, each time his hands move to settle on the curve of your waist as you kiss him in greeting, that if he isn’t careful, if he doesn’t do enough, if he doesn’t prove himself, it will all be temporary, it will all be lost.

Ivar has fought against those thoughts -against those certainties-, because fighting is all he knows how to do. He has fought, much in the way he has had to fight all his life, by taking up space, broad gestures and abrasive actions; by demanding they don’t ignore him, from the chariot Floki made him to remind them he won’t be stopped from being Viking, to moving around York slowly but proudly with his new braces; by reminding them, for all the times they said, to his face and behind his back, that he should have been left to the wolves, you cannot kill me.

He fought against these thoughts, to try and remind himself that you, this, is something he can keep; much in a similar manner. With awkward, brash gestures as he courted you, trying to prove, against what a part of him and many of his own people doubted, that you had chosen him; with the almost forceful way in which he gifted you things at the beginning to prove to you and himself he could provide for you, keep you happy; with all the displays of power, of strength, just so that he could be certain he’d keep your attention on him.

Ivar has fought, by making sure your life is filled by him, with moments with him, with proof that he has existed and has loved you more than any other man could. Ivar has fought by making sure that the ground you gain he gains as well, and that every move on your side of the board is met with his own.

Yet the one thing he cannot do for you in the way you do for him, is show gentleness. His gentleness is harsh, it is his hand gripping tightly onto yours lest you choose to reject him and pull away, it is the almost defiant tone to his voice when he tells you he loves you, it is giving away pieces of himself while demanding you do the same in exchange.

His gentleness is laced with hesitance, and with Ivar, hesitance, as any faltering is, is accompanied with harshness, with the instinctual need to show that no such weakness can control him. Yet, try as he might, he cannot rid himself of it, of such pathetic weakness, and whenever you are within reach, whenever he wishes to bring you closer, to close the distance between you in exchange for the warmth of your skin against his, he hesitates.

Still, when you kiss him he makes the conscious effort to wrap his arms around you, to cup the side of your face, to grasp at your sides and bring you closer; if only on the errant hope that somehow his touch can affect you, can disarm you, like yours does to him.

And some part of him, selfish even when giving, aware of how overwhelming and addicting it feels to be loved by you; wants you to feel loved by him, wants to show you that being loved by him can feel good enough, can be worth it. Because Ivar is many things, but he isn’t an idiot. He knows he isn’t an easy man to love. You’d never admit it, you’d even argue against it, but he knows it is true.

And after last night, Ivar gathers you’d be much more inclined to agree with that.

You have moved far away from him as the night progressed, engaged in conversation by this and that person, who welcome you back to Kattegat with a joy they’d never offer him; and now there you sit, half a table away, listening attentively to some story Ubbe is regaling you with.

It is a simple thing, to crave you back by his side. It is to be expected, for a man to want his woman by his side. And if he were any other man, Ivar imagines he would stand from his chair and walk to you, trail the back of his fingers down the exposed line of your throat, lean down and whisper by your ear that you come join him away from all these people; Ivar imagines he would have no qualms about going to you and offering the same gentleness you offer him, that his brothers offer the women they fancy.

But Ivar is not like any other man, he is painfully aware of this in times like these, surrounded by people, back in this cursed town.

And he wishes he could go to you and coax your attention back to him, and ask for the touch he craves, but weakness that feels too alike fear curls on his stomach like a snake, and he hesitates.

Because with people’s voices around him loud and cheerful, with his body so awfully exposed in the great hall, with your smile bright as you listen to Ubbe’s tales of the taking of Thetford, with all their eyes on Ivar even if they aren’t looking at him; it suddenly isn’t so easy to convince himself that his touch is something you want, something you’d accept.

That he is.

He lets his eyes fall to the curve of your mouth, watching your lips move as you talk, not hearing a damn word you or anyone else is saying. Because suddenly he can’t shake off this realization.

You never hesitate to touch him, to kiss him.

And yet, your lack of hesitation is so different than his, because even when Ivar manages to shake off the pathetic weakness that makes him hesitate, he can never offer affection with the gentleness you do. Because whenever you touch him, a trail of your soft fingers over the back of his hand, your palm running soothingly down his spine, a kiss breathed over his cheek as you murmur a greeting, you always give him a…a way out.

He hates thinking of it that way, but that is what it is. Sometimes it is because the pain on his bones makes every nerve on his body feel exposed, but it usually is because Ivar still is, even if much less so than the beginning of his relationship with you, often overwhelmed by your touch, by your love.

And he has noticed that you always give him that way out. A chance to choose to keep himself from unraveling with but a gentle brush of your fingers over his skin, a chance of an escape from the doubt and shame that sometimes envelop him when he feels your body against his.

Ivar has tried to do the same, but he can’t. He can’t do what you do and leave his hand there awaiting the touch of yours, he can’t ask in a quiet murmur if the simplest of touches is okay before embracing you, he can’t. He can’t because few things scare him the way your rejection does, even in regards to something as simple as holding your hand in his.

So, where your lack of hesitation means giving, offering; Ivar’s lack of hesitation is taking. And now, when he makes himself reach for you, when he makes himself demand your attention, he does so calling your name loudly, demanding you come where he sits with an abrasiveness that leaves no room for you to say no.

There’s a knowing smile on your lips as you stand from your seat and approach him, but Ivar merely holds your gaze, defiantly. He has no qualms about drawing attention to himself, he has been exposed since he can remember, he has had no choice but to be seen, and known, failing and deficient, since he was born; so with no other choice, he has learned to make being so constantly aware of being seen into something he can use to his advantage.

In this case, to make sure you won’t deny him.

You approach and come to stand before him, and with that lack of hesitation that is only yours, that waits for him to lean back on his seat before you move to sit astride him, your legs on either side of his, you drape your arms over his shoulders, and lean closer.

“Miss me?”

In response, Ivar offers merely a hum, feigning considering your words as his gaze drops to the smile curving at your mouth. Still, he cannot bring himself to lean forward, to ask for your kiss.

He can’t shake off this feeling of it all being transient, can’t clear his mind of thoughts reminding him he is playing a role not meant for him; and Ivar hopes that the way his arms wrap around you looks natural to everyone, that it feels natural to you, but it certainly does not for him.

How could it, when he still hesitates to bring you closer even if your hands do not hesitate to leave a trail of fire over his exposed skin? How could it, when he never quite could understand that you want him, that you love him, and he still fears rejection with every touch?

You chase those thought away with a brush of your lips against his, and for a few breaths of borrowed time, he can ignore it all. The dread that returning to Kattegat awakened in him, the weight of the eyes of these people that saw him break and fail so many times set upon him again, the shame of his inability to touch the woman eh loves without hesitating or fearing she would vanish like smoke.

He knows you are real, you are flesh and bone under his hands, you are warmth breezing over his skin, but it still feels like a mirage. Like he will reach for you and you will vanish, with your hand failing to accept the touch of his, with your eye fearful or disgusted as they look at him and his outstretched hand, with your rejection. And so he hesitates.

Lost again in his own thoughts, he is almost startled by the cold left behind by your absence when you pull away just slightly, and just as he is to mindlessly chase after the taste of your lips, as usual uncaring about doubt or hesitation when he has you so close, Ivar feels you pull away, feels the weight of you lifted slightly off his legs.

“What are you doing?” He asks, hands rougher than he meant them to be when they bring you back into his lap, startling you and making pain shoot down his left leg like lightning.

“Ivar?” You reply, eyes searching his, confusion lacing your voice, dimming your smile.

“Why are you pulling away from me, hm?” He means for the accusation to be harsh, to be demanding, and yet all he hears is weakness, is fear.

“I thought you were in pain.” You reply, a furrow of confusion between your brows, as if it is that simple, that obvious. As if it, he, any of this, is normal.

He doesn’t tell you that even if it were a bad day, and it did hurt, he wouldn’t care as long as you stay close. He hasn’t cared before.

If he’s honest, he’d probably welcome it, because sometimes pain is the one thing Ivar can trust to make things real, the one constant he can trust on. But he won’t tell you that, and he even pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind quickly enough, because he doesn’t like the answers his mind provides about what those thoughts say about him.

He doesn’t tell you any of that, and instead lifts his hands from where they rest on the curve of your waist, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. You know rejection when you see it, and you lean back as well, expression hardened, distant.

He knows he is being irrational, but this isn’t his fault, this…this is your fault. This is because of you, you and your love and your softness.

Because you are the one so carelessly offering love and gentleness and making him crave them, the one that touches him and loves him as if he were any other man, as if he could have these things.

It is your fault, because you let him forget for long enough that he admits he can’t help but crave you and your touch, but nothing has changed, about who he is, both in how the Gods made him and how he made himself, and as much as he craves he fears rejection more, and he hesitates.

And it is your fault, because before at least he didn’t know what he was missing, by not being whole enough, by hesitating.

And so he argues, harshly, uncaringly, wanting to strike back and rid himself of this creeping pressure in his chest, “I don’t need your pity. If you are so ashamed to be here with me, th-…”

“Are we having this argument again, truly?” You interrupt, voice shrill with exasperation. With a sigh, not of tiredness or defeat but one that betrays something closer to spite, to bitterness, you add, “I would think you wouldn’t have the gall to accuse me of not wanting you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You scoff, looking away.

“Nothing.”

“No, speak your mind,” He demands before the word is even done leaving your lips. Ivar leans forward, jaw clenched tight enough it hurts, eyes piercing on yours, and presses, “What is it you want to say, hm?”

“I don’t even know if you want me, Ivar!” You hiss, words thundering even if your voice remains quiet. “You…you barely touch the woman you supposedly love! I know something is troubling you, but you won’t share anything with me!”

A beat of silence, two. His mind lingers on one of your accusations, on one of his failings, and he doesn’t care about keeping the venom from his voice when he snarls,

“If you doubt if I love you, what are you doing here then?”

You draw back, and the look in your eye, the hurt and the disdain, makes his chest pull tight. But he holds his ground, his pride letting hurt and regret harden into anger, and stares you down.

He curls his hand into a fist to keep himself from reaching for you when you finally pull away, for it is now of all times that he rids himself of hesitation for a moment.

But he forces his body under his own control, he steels himself as he makes himself watch you walk away from him.

“You’ll regret that tomorrow,” Hvitserk mutters in the silence you left behind. At Ivar’s silence, his brother lifts his head and stares at him for a moment. Tone clipped, Hvitserk states, “You regret it already. Idiot.”

Before he even opens his mouth to argue, his brother has poured mead back into his cup and slid it his way.

He finally finds you by the stall of one of the merchants from the East that Hvitserk has made deals with, your back turned to him. Ivar tries not to try and find meaning on the fact that you are wearing the cloak he bought for you when you first started spending time together, but fails.

“Can I speak with you?” He asks without preamble. Still, there is no escaping the tension coiling around his body like a snake, pressing the air out of his lungs, making the instinct to do something all the stronger; when the merchant’s eyes settle on him, when he has no choice but to accept being watched, being seen, as he asks the woman he loves for her time, for her attention.

You meet his gaze for a moment, and he doesn’t need you to say a thing to understand you are still angry, but still you nod your head once, before turning your back to him and walking in the direction of the pier.

It would be a familiar routine too, to follow you even if much is different -for one he is walking behind you and not crawling, and you know he is behind you, instead of him following you and hiding like an idiot-; but he forces himself to ignore all the similarities to before, refuses to accept being trapped in this fog-like resistance to change that has covered Kattegat since he can remember.

And because the silence feels a lot like being ignored, feels a lot like chasing after glimpses of a woman that he had never spoken to yet, he doesn’t bother stopping himself from prodding,

“How far do you intend to make the cripple chase after you, hm?”

You stop in your tracks so suddenly that it surprises him. Carefully, slowly, you turn around, hands joined together in front of you.

Your voice is eerily calm when you answer,

“I’m not making you do anything. And I know when you are trying to goad me into getting angry, Ivar.”

He retorts with a disbelieving glare, just shy of mocking. He is proving you right by doing that, but making you angry is better than dealing with silence.

Still, he argues, “That is not what I’m doing.”

“You are a terrible liar.” You scoff, turning back around and continuing your trek through the increasingly deserted streets.

Finally, you reach the old pier that no one in Kattegat has thought of taking down in the years that have gone by, making Ivar grow more certain that in this cursed town something clings to unbearable permanence and keeps anything from changing.

Including him, since now that he has returned he finds himself haunted by thoughts he believed he had left behind when he first sailed with his brothers to avenge their father, when he made something out of himself far from here.

Unaware of his thoughts, of how now as he looks at you Ivar is almost absently searching your face for the faint scar over your brow that you earned on one of those first weeks in Repton, plagued by the irrational thought that truly nothing ahs changed since you first met; you move to sit on the pier. When you do so, you bring the dark red cloak closer to yourself, covering yourself from the biting cold of the morning, and inadvertently reminding Ivar of all that has changed.

“I’d think you’d be angry.” He tries, words dying with a small sound of exertion as he lowers himself to sit on the pier.

“I am not,” You tell him, following your words with a small shrug of your shoulders, “But one grows tired of being doubted all the time, you know.”

“I do not doubt you.”

Your eyes narrow, tone sardonic as you taunt back, “You doubt my feelings for you, then. That’s infinitely better, wh-…”

“No, I don’t.” He interrupts forcefully, but nothing else follows the outburst, leaving you both in silence, staring at one another. Eyebrows lifted, you dare him to continue, and Ivar looks away with a grunt.

“Explain it to me, then. I am not an idiot, I know something is bothering you. You are the one that agreed to come back to Kattegat, and now you are so…”

“You don’t hesitate.” He finally settles on saying, tone clipped.

“Huh?”

He doesn’t know how to put his thoughts into words better than that, so instead, he tries something simpler, something easier to accept, to give away.

“I do want you. I…I love you.” He admits, feeling that even if the words are quiet, even if no one but the two of you linger here, he has just given away a secret for all to hear.

You stay quiet for a breath or two, before sighing.

“I know,” At his glare you offer a small smile, but you do not say it back. Ivar tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowed, but your smile only widens, making an answering one pull at the corners of his mouth. Still, you argue, “And I do not pity you.”

“I know.” He concedes as well eyes diverting down and focusing on your hands, placed carefully on your lap.

Ivar grits his teeth, anger -at himself, really, for what he made out of himself with what the Gods gave him- holding him by the throat and keeping a more honest admission from leaving his lips.

Instead of saying anything else, Ivar takes a breath and quietly offers his hand to you, palm up, fingers loose, awaiting the touch of yours. Pathetic, really, that such a simple movement unnerves him so, makes him fear so.

It would be easier to fight, for you, for your love, to keep that which matters the most to him; than to accept he ought to ask for it, hope to deserve it, and believe you when you say he does.

He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding when you slip your hand into his, fingers intertwining with his own. And it is this strange relief blended with hope, that loosens his tongue more than mead ever could and gets him to admit, quietly, voice almost a mumble as he looks at your joined hands,

“You make it seem so easy.”

“It isn’t easy for you? To be close like this?”

“This is,” He answers, absently turning your hands around so he can bring the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a brief kiss over the soft skin. “But it isn’t easy for me to…”

“Offer?”

He shakes his head.

“Ask.”

Because that is what it is, really. He isn’t offering, he is asking. And asking is admitting to craving your attention, your touch; it is giving away he is pathetic enough that of all things he would ask for, he asks for affection.

“Why?”

“You are…gentle, and certain. I cannot…touch you the way you touch me.”

Silence follows his words, and for a moment Ivar thinks he’ll lose whatever is left of his mind in it.

“My father brought me a mirror as a gift from one of his raids in East Anglia when I was seven,” You start suddenly. He stares back, brows furrowed, as he tries making sense of what you are trying to say. You look back, but laughter is already clinging to your words when you continue, “If I wanted to love a copy of myself, I could have d-…”

You are interrupted when he rolls his eyes with a groan, and despite his annoyance he finds his chest grow warm when he hears your burst of laughter that sounds more like a cackle than anything else.

Ivar lets himself fall back, resting his back on the old wood of the pier, staring up at the grey skies. Your laughter dies down, and almost immediately you lay down as well, right next to him.

You wait only for a moment to press your body against his, you wait for him to lift his arm and invite you closer. You don’t hesitate then, and he gathers he doesn’t either, but he’d rather not dwell much on that now.

“I am serious,” You insist, leaning up on one elbow to look at him. At the petulant tap of your hand on his chest, Ivar turns to look at you. “I love you, Ivar. I love how you love me, how you touch me.”

He searches your gaze for a breath, two, before asking, voice barely over a whisper.

“Why?”

Instead of answering, you rest your head on his chest, settling close to him as if you were embracing in the comfort of your room, before a warm hearth, and not in an old pier on a cold winter morning.

“Because, despite what your mind tries convincing you of, this feels for me exactly as it does for you.”

Thank you for reading! Sorry if the ending sucks, but writing resolutions is hard, I just wanna word vomit about Ivar’s struggles without having to find a solution 😩 (and yes I winged that ending like I haven’t winged anything before)

Please read this bit also: I hope you don’t mind, but I’m gonna scrap all taglists except the ongoing series ones, because bothering people by tagging them seems like a very stupid thing to worry about but it makes me anxious regardless. So, since I left for such a long time and kinda stopped interacting and everything else, I’m gonna be purging the taglists. If you still wanna be tagged, let me know!

500 Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​​ @xbellaxcarolinax​​ @1950schick​​ @ietss​​ @peachyboneless​​ @encounterthepast​​ @maggiescarborough​​ @fae-sedai​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @crazybunnyladysworld​​ @stupiddarkkside​​ @northumbria​​ @sagyunaro @aprilivar​​

Ivar Taglist: @yourwonkywriter​​

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #500 fucking hell thank you ily