#is the human using them? or are they just kinky? we will never know

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Firstly, you and your husband is an extremely great writers!

second, is it alright for a touched starved vampire x touchy human. please, im lonely. thank you very much and have a pleasant day!

An unhealthy obsession wasn’t deadly per se but the vampire didn’t even begin to comprehend that they stood in problems knee-deep. 

It had started with one lazy afternoon, the vampire had lain on their couch and wasted their endless hours graciously. They’d eaten little that week (their eating habits were dangerously bad, even for a vampire) which had left them sleepy and totally useless for the rest of the day. Everything in their vision had swum in a soup of colours and when they’d pressed their palms into their eyes, it left them with the urge to throw up. 

When their roommate had stormed into the apartment, agitated and apparently ready for battle, the vampire didn’t even notice it at first. It was only later when the human straddled them that the vampire guessed their date hadn’t turned out to be successful. What happened after that was a total blur, all that remained in their memory was the feeling of skin on skin and the prurient sounds that filled the apartment.

Ever since that…incident, they touched whenever the possibility arose. Sitting on the couch together didn’t work anymore without holding hands or sitting on top of the other. The vampire had never thought their relationship would develop into this and they had certainly not thought that they would fancy it.

After all, they knew the human since childhood and with that, every dirty little secret they had. And likewise did the human.

What the vampire hadn’t considered was the possessiveness the human personified. They were too blind to see that they were nothing but a puppy on a leash, someone the human wanted to themselves without sharing.

There was some thrill to that — feeling wanted and feeling at peace was something the vampire welcomed. 

“Have you eaten anything today, my love?” The human’s fingers went through the vampire’s hair until their hand was full of it and they were able to pull on it gently. The vampire let out a pathetic whine, still drunk on the feeling of their lover’s hands massaging their shampoo into their skull. 

“Breakfast, yes,” they answered obediently. The vampire was taller than the human and oh so much stronger but in reality, they were never scared of hurting their mortal lover. The human was in charge, after all, wrapping the vampire around their little finger with ease. 

“I don’t mean that, my love.” The vampire turned towards the human and watched them patiently. 

“I’m trying to quit that,” they said, blinking.

“You can’t quit drinking blood. You’re a vampire,” the human said, chuckling at their lover’s response. Even though the vampire already felt hot from the bath, they blushed. Humiliation was something the human used in little doses but when they did, it always forced a reaction out of the vampire.

“I’m still trying.”

“You can have my blood, you know?” their lover said, one finger following their spine all the way down. Their nail scratched a painful line into the vampire’s back but it made them feel some sick ecstasy they couldn’t explain. They drew in a sharp breath. 

“I…I know…”

“You’re good for me, aren’t you?” The human stood up on their tiptoes and pressed a kiss to their vampire’s cheek.

“O-of course.” The vampire threw their head back when a cold hand slid down their stomach. It made them feel like a human again. They had to squeeze their eyes shut and concentrate on breathing.

“You have already claimed my body and my blood, haven’t you?” the human asked with a voice that could’ve been a siren’s.

“…yes—” The vampire’s thoughts were mushed together.

“Then eat me whole.”

#fuck what is my vampire tag again ughh #is the human using them? or are they just kinky? we will never know #writing snippet #vampire #human #vampire x human #human x vampire #vampirexhuman #humanxvampire #request #an answer for an ask

[cogbreath]

i think a major thing in regards to kink and racial aspects and dynamics is the fact that white people particularly are used to their every desire and comfort and pleasure being prioritised whether they are consciously aware of it or not.... like unfortunately the situation is that most of them believe that kink exists in some sort of bubble.

for example many would not think twice about the implications of wanting to have "taking bbc" be a necessary part of their personal humiliation or transformation or degradation kink. they already live under conditions where they have to put in active effort to be anti-racist. so ofc it never occurs to them that perhaps maybe we are asking them to think critically about the origins of their kinks and why the dynamic might be dubious if not outright racist.

to them its a matter of kink shaming because white pleasure and white comfort comes before respecting black people as humans. this is the way society has functioned for centuries. so of course why would they ever think that there might be more behind the fact that they enjoy raceplay fantasies? because to them its just that, a fantasy. they have never had to question why or how that came be.

Seriously, i implore you to all really really think critically about the way you think about black people sexually, how you want to treat your black partners, and if that may have implications or backgrounds to it that you don't recognize. you need to understand that there are very real reasons behind the fact that we want you to question why it sexually pleasures you to have racial power over us. its not at all the same as for example someone thinking its immoral or repulsive to enjoy kinky sex. we are literally just wanting you to recognise that our people have a history of sexual abuse tied with our history of racial abuse.

like if you have a kinky dynamic with a black partner, are you taking care to consider the implications of why they might not be okay *at all* with being referred to as your slave sexually regardless of the way you intend it? or being whipped? For reasons outside of the fact it doesn't turn us on, but rather that its something that for us, for our people, are things that were used to abuse us?

are you taking care to educate yourself about the history of sexual abuse in racism and slavery? do you actually know that cuckolding has racist roots? have you researched that? do you know how our people were and have been exploited and abused sexually throughout history not just with slavery but minstrely and so on? Did you ever take pause to think about the history that may lie behind raceplay and how maybe, just maybe; that us finding an issue with that kink is not us shaming anyone or trying to suppress anyone's sexuality?

learn to understand *why* we have every right to not feel okay with the fact people get off to the racial abuse and exploitation and dehumanizing of us, regardless of if its just "fantasy" or "roleplay". think about why your first reaction is to claim that your sexual freedom is being stifled, why you think your right to pleasure comes before our right to NOT be treated like this and to NOT view you as a safe person to be around for openly and proudly getting off to it.

#dont ask me nothint abt black ppl who are into raceplay and desire it. thats not the conversation here. #that is a seperate conversation and im tired of white ppl using it as a gotcha to silence us.

[skzdarlings]

vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 1/2

masterlist.

PART 1/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. handcuffs. cat-and-mouse. eventual smut will be kinky dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. (chapter word count: 7400 words.)

-

Seungmin is one of your best friends and also a conniving master of manipulation.  Being a malevolent source of wicked verbal wizardry, he convinced you and Minho that it would be totally super easy to sneak into the Hwang Hyunjin concert.  It’s only the final night of the pop-star’s sold-out world tour and the most anticipated concert of the year.  What could go wrong?  

It sounded like a good idea when Seungmin said it.  Now the three of you are standing in a pushy crowd of overeager fans with some very intimidating looking security guards at the end of the queue. 

“Reconvene,” you say.  You grab the boys by their scruff and drag them out of the line. 

“Ah, hey!” Minho snaps at you like piranha.

You release him to grab Seungmin by his collar.  “You better have an idea for getting us past security,” you say, “because I do not like the look of the Incredible Hulk up there.”

The three of you look at the shortstack beefcake who looks like he could bench all three of you at the same time. 

“Yeaaaah,” Seungmin says.  He flashes you a not-so-innocent smile as his strawberry-pink bangs flop into his eyes.  “I didn’t really think this far ahead.  I thought you’d have a plan.”

“Why would I have a plan?” you ask.  “This whole thing was your idea.  Seungmin.”  You drag him close so your noses touch, going cross-eyed at the proximity.  It does not lessen the severity of your frustration when you state, “I waxed for this.  And you know how I feel about waxing.” 

“You waxed?” Minho asks loudly.  It draws a few glances your way which might be because Minho is so loud, or might be because he’s so good looking, or a combination of the two.  His dark eyes narrow at you like you’re a completely alien creature.   “Why would you wax for a concert?” he asks. 

“Wax,” Seungmin parrots.  Your hands are on his collar like you intend to shake him up but it doesn’t deter him asking, “Like… like wax-wax?  Like your human body waxed?”

“Like your human pussy?” Minho asks.  “For a concert?  What did you think was gonna happen?”  He is on the very visible verge of hysterical laughter when a thought lights his eyes.  “Wait,” he says.  “I know how we can get in—”

“Oh my god,” you say.  You shove Seungmin and grab Minho by the collar instead.  “I’m not fucking our way in.  And I waxed,” you drop your voice, “just in case.”

“Just in case…?” Minho tips his head.  “Just in case you had to fuck your way in…?”

“Oh my god,” you say.  You push him away too.  “Never mind.”

“Did you think Hyunjin was going to summon you out of the crowd for a green room quickie?”  Seungmin asks with a shit-eating grin. 

Minho cackles.  “No way she’d even go,” he says.  “She doesn’t get summoned.  She likes to be chased.” 

“She is walking away now,” you say.    

“Bet she’ll walk away quickly,” Seungmin says.  “She waxed so she’ll be aerodynamic.”

You stomp away from the stadium but only make it a few steps before Seungmin runs in front of you. 

“We can’t just give up here,” Seungmin says.  “We made it this far already.”

“One bus stop?” you ask dryly.  “We literally live like five minutes away—”

“Exactly!” Seungmin says.  “That’s called destiny.”

“We might as well try,” Minho says.  He cups a hand over his eyes to look at the stadium in the fading light of the sun.  “We all got dressed up.  Seungmin skipped a class.  You waxed.” 

“There’s no way we’re getting through those doors,” you say. 

“We’ve done it before,” Seungmin says.  He turns you to face the stadium and massages your shoulders like a boxing coach, all the while regaling you with tales of your past victories.  “Remember all the other concerts we snuck into?  The sports games?  That celebrity wedding—”   

“Well,” Minho interrupts, “we did get arrested at that one.” 

“Yeah and we got arrested together,” Seungmin says, “because that’s what friends do.” 

“I don’t know why,” you say, “but for some reason this is working.”  Maybe it’s Seungmin’s words, or Minho’s cologne, or maybe it’s the soft glow of a perfect summer sunset as it pours over the stadium like a pink-orange waterfall.  Or maybe it’s because this really is the concert of the year, and you love a challenge, and you fucking waxed. 

You throw your head back and sigh, soulfully resigning yourself to your imminent fate.

“Fine,” you say.  “So how are we doing this?”   

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin says thoughtfully.  “I think I have a plan.”

Seungmin proceeds to explain the plan.  It is hardly the pinnacle of heist endeavours but is more feasible than rappelling down the stadium walls into the concert arena.

Basically, the plan is to find a group of people with a solitary ticket holder and leech onto their tail with the hopes security will miscount the party and let you sneak past.  It means you will have to split up because security will definitely notice three extra people.  You will then hopefully reunite inside the arena.

You scamper around the periphery of the stadium, perusing lines for oblivious groups of excited fans with an e-ticket-wielding ringleader.  You also double-check which security guards seem the most lax or checked out. 

“I get that one,” Minho says. 

He points to a trim, athletic guard with floppy brown hair and a giggly smile.  You and Seungmin protest because that guard is an easy mark so you all want him, but Minho takes off running for the queue. 

The thing about Lee Minho is that he never hauls ass.  He coasts through life with a casual slouch, but he is completely capable of annihilating everyone if he deigns to do so. 

He does.  So he did.

You and Seungmin look around.  Your grin widens when you spy the next easiest target.

“Aha!” you say.  “I call dibs on that one!  Good luck, Seungmin!”

“Hey!” Seungmin bellows.

He is far too late.  You are already booking it towards the line with a pretty, chipper, skinny security guard.  He is in jeans and a loose windbreaker that says SECURITY across the back, about the only indication he is a man of any authority.  His hair is a vibrant, neon blue and is delicately styled, long enough to pull back in a pretty half-ponytail.  His features are sharp, cheekbones sloping, but there is a natural tenderness to his whole countenance.  He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. 

Also, he really is lean.  Worst case scenario, you can probably push your way past him and disappear into the crowd before he can do anything about it.  

You find a group of girls to sidle alongside anyway.  You are satisfied you will easily slip into the stadium. 

The group reaches the front of the line, a couple of them giggling at the security guard’s friendly attention.  His name tag reads Felix, a cute name for a cute guy.  Up close, you can see a smattering of dark freckles across his face, as well as a few playful glitter stars for the concert.  He is admittedly pretty but as a professional gate crasher, you refrain from distraction.  You successfully avoid his gaze and stick close to the girl in front of you. 

Felix gives them each a friendly nod, smiling brightly.  He laughs at one of their comments and it’s a charming, low sound. 

“Enjoy the show, ladies,” he says, his voice about a hundred decibels deeper than you expected.  

Maybe that’s what trips you up.  It has to be something, because you were doing everything right.  But just as you go to follow the girls into the arena, a skinny arm shoots out and you smack right into it.   

“Sorry,” Felix says.  He drops his arm and smiles.  “I just need to see your ticket.” 

“My…?”  You look ahead at the group of girls, but they are already gone.  Oops.  “Ha, ha,” you say, looking at Felix. 

He is staring back at you, still smiling a close-lipped smile.  He blinks a couple times then lifts an eyebrow.

“Uh, ticket?” he says.  He holds out his hand.  

“Right,” you say.  You smile at him with all the saccharine sweetness you can.  “I have funny story about that, Felix,” you say. 

“Hm.”  His smile turns into a line, eyes narrowing as he looks at you.  “And what’s that?” 

“Well, you see…”

It’s all you say before you bolt, fast on your feet.  You sprint for the entryway behind the guarded queue.  There’s a crowd inside and you’re an expert at disappearing into a crowd.  You just need to get in there and find your boys then you are home free.  Hwang Hyunjin, here you come. 

There’s just one problem.  

Felix is fast.  

Like, track star fast.  Like, road runner fast.  Like, you’re that dumb coyote getting an anvil dropped on your head, except this anvil is a skinny blue-haired Australian with a voice like a god and the apparent hidden strength of one too. 

You make it a few desperate steps before Felix literally sweeps you off your feet.  You shriek when he hauls you under his arm, dragging you away from the stadium door.  He deposits you a few feet from the queue then swiftly resumes his position. 

“Hello,” he says to the next person in line.  “Sorry about that.  Ticket?”   

Your mouth is agape.  

No one has ever got the jump on you like that.

“Hey!” you say, but Felix has moved on.  He is smiling at the next guest as he checks their ticket, not paying you any mind.  “Excuse me,” you say, despite the people between you and him.  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.  I do have a ticket.”

“Uh-huh,” Felix says.  He doesn’t look at you, scanning someone’s e-ticket with a little device.  It lights up green and he smiles at them.  “Enjoy the show,” he says. 

You jump into the queue, cutting off the next person.  Felix’s smile vanishes and is replaced with an astoundingly sassy expression.

“Uh, this line is for ticket-holders,” he says. 

“I have a ticket,” you say.  You unzip your purse and spend a minute rifling around, ignoring him when he sighs.  He apologizes to the people behind you.  You turn and offer a tight-lipped apology of your own.  “I was in line,” you say, as if they didn’t just witness this ten-pound bully haul you around like a sack of potatoes.  “There was just a misunderstanding.”

Felix rolls his eyes. 

You pull out your cell phone and flip through a folder of fake screenshotted tickets, hoping at least one of them marginally resembles the tickets for tonight.  You pick one and flash it at Felix. 

“Happy?” you say with a lot of false indignation.  You turn off the screen when Felix goes to grab your phone.  You give him a snooty, squinty-eyed look, then saunter right past him. 

This time when he comes after you, you are better prepared for his speed.   You zig-zag and he stumbles, cussing very unprofessionally.  You make it all the way to the door before he grabs you.  You have no idea where he is getting all that muscle because he feels like a sturdy stick when you grab at him, but he puts you over his shoulder like it’s easy. 

“Um, excuse me!” you shout.  “Hello!  Someone film this!  I’m being assailed!”

Felix intentionally jostles you on his shoulder.  He is even less gentle when he drops you this time, though you do manage to keep your footing. 

“Try that again,” Felix says, “and it will be trouble.  Got it?” 

Felix is very good looking.  He’s an incredible combination of pretty and handsome, not to mention that voice, guh.  But what gets you going is how much you are clearly pissing him off.  It’s hot.  Out of nowhere, the freckled sunshine sweetheart is just oozing confidence, standing square and pointing at you with a very stern expression.  And if you get a little hiccup in your blood, a little skip in your heartbeat, a little stampede southward that makes your pussy hum like the interested kitten it is, well.  That’s not your fault.  It’s his.  Asshole.

You flip him off.  He ignores you, shaking his head as he returns to his position.

“Sorry,” he says to the queue.  “Some people are so inconsiderate, aren’t they?”

Ugh. What a sexy bitch. 

You text to check in with the boys.  Minho made it inside, no surprise, but apparently Seungmin is also struggling for an in. 

what is with these security guards, Seungmin writes, are they military trained? fuck 

maybe you’re both just losing your touch, Minho replies.

never, you say.  we still have lots of time.  we'll get in there.  seungmin, meet me by the benches.  we need another plan.  

Usually, the best way to crash an event is with minimal attention and no theatrics.  It’s all about pretending you are exactly where you are supposed to be.  If you act like you belong, then you will.  

A spectacle is a desperate measure, but you are desperate people.  After a few hushed whispers on a bench, you and Seungmin spring into action. 

“Help!”  Seungmin shouts.  “My wife needs help!  Please!” 

“Your wife?” you whisper through gritted teeth, opening one eye to look at him.  You are currently laying on the pavement in a dramatic swoon, Seungmin hunched over you. 

“My companion of ambiguous relationship is hurt!” he says.  “Ouch,” he adds, because you swat his arm.

Fortunately, he does draw attention.  A few people run over, the beefy security guard one of them.  His nametag reads Changbin and he is in a black t-shirt at least two sizes too small.  You do not begrudge him this, as you would do the same if you had biceps like that.  

“What happened?” he asks, crouching down beside Seungmin. 

“My friend just passed out,” Seungmin says.  He hoists you into his arms as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.  “Is there somewhere inside I can take her to sit down?  I think all the chaos out here overstimulated her.” 

“One second,” Changbin says.  He pulls a walkie-talkie out of a holster.  It buzzes with static as he turns it on.  “Hey, we have a collapsed woman in front of Entry Door B.  Can I have back-up clear a path, and someone with First Aid training?”  The walkie-talkie buzzes again and Changbin puts it away.  He stands up, waving away the small crowd that has gathered.   “Yah, everyone back up!  This is an emergency!” 

“It’s really not,” Seungmin says.  He scoops you into a bridal hold then struggles to lift you off the ground. “I just need – whew – somewhere I can – agh – put her down.  I can just – AH! – carry her myself.”

Naturally, it is at that moment a familiar voice descends from above. 

A familiar, deep, Australian-accented voice.

“Move aside, please.”  

“Oh no,” you say, eyes closed.   You open them just in time for a glitter-faced, freckled, blue-haired pretty boy in a SECURITY windbreaker to cut through the crowd.   

Unfortunately, Felix is just as good looking at this angle.  He waves away the gathered onlookers as he approaches, but looks at Changbin first. 

“I have First Aid,” he says.  “What happened?”

“I just found her collapsed,” Changbin says.  “Her friend thinks it’s the crowd.  Should we bring her inside?” 

Felix looks at you.  The concerned furrow in his brow immediately gives way. 

You smile innocently. 

“No,” Felix says, frowning.  “We shouldn’t.” 

“Oh come on,” you say.  You smack the ground.  “I collapsed!  I need help!”

“No, you need a ticket,” Felix says.  He crosses his arms and stomps a foot.  “Seriously, what is wrong with you?  Some of us have a job to do, you know?”

“Naaaur ya need a ticket, mate,” you say in a mockingly deep chest voice. “Some of us have jobs ya knaaaaur!”

“Do you guys know each other?” Changbin asks, looking between you and Felix – who is growing increasingly red in the face and breathing much harder. 

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Seungmin says. 

“Ah!”  Felix yells, spinning to Changbin.  “She doesn’t have a ticket!  She’s just trying to sneak in!”

“She doesn’t have a ticket?”  Seungmin asks, gasping.  He drops you onto the concrete, ignoring your yelp of pain.   “But I thought she – she told me we – I – I –“

You watch in betrayed horror as Seungmin pretends to faint, flopping down beside you on the concrete.  You sit up, very tempted to slap him across the face but not wanting to give Felix more reasons to accost you. 

“Seungmin,” you say.  You grab him by the shirt and rattle him around like a ragdoll.  “Seungmin, you bastard, don’t even think about it!”

“You.”  Felix stomps up behind you.  “Get off the ground and come with me.” 

“No,” you say.  “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.” 

You shriek – again – when Felix grabs you under the arms and hoists you to your feet.  He manhandles you with only a modicum of effort, dragging you away from your stupid traitorous best friend. 

You step on Felix’s foot deliberately and he swears.  For such a pretty thing, he sure has a filthy mouth.  You grab a fistful of his hair and tug, to which he cusses up a storm and pries your hand off his head.   

You hear the distinct buzz of Changbin’s walkie-talkie.    

“We have a collapsed man in front of Entry Door B.  Can someone who isn’t going to start fighting the patrons come help me move him?”

“He’s faking it!” you cry in protest, watching Changbin scoop Seungmin off the ground. 

Changbin disregards your outburst.  Seungmin gives you a thumbs up behind his back.  Felix, of course, doesn’t see it because he’s too busy dragging you away.  You are left to sputter in bewildered protest at the injustice of it all. 

Felix marches you to the sidewalk, far away from the stadium queues.  You are both out of breath by the time you get there.  Even so, you attempt to manoeuvre under his arm to run away.   In a few quick moves, he knocks you onto your ass. 

 “Holy fuck!”  You are panting now.  A line of sweat dots your hairline.  You wipe at it and stare morosely at this stupidly competent minimum wage security guard.  “What are you, like some kind of karate master or something?”

“Taekwondo, actually,” he says, brushing off his jacket.  Then he tips his head and stares down at you.

You would be lying if you said the intensity of his stare didn’t have your heart racing for an entirely new reason.  Danger and desire have always danced a close dance for your tastes.  Felix is not helping matters, tucking back loose strands of vibrant hair as he looms over you, wetting his bottom lip and staring. 

You cross your arms and feign nonchalance, but you can’t look away from him.  When he crouches down slowly to meet you at eye level, everything below the belt goes pitter-patter. 

“No ticket,” Felix says slowly.  “No concert.  Do you understand me?” 

You stick out your tongue.

“Wow, mature,” he says.  His departing farewell is another snarky eyeroll.  He shakes his head as he stands, muttering to himself in obvious frustration. 

So much for not a mean bone in his body.  That bully is all business.   

So hot. 

You huff and puff for a bit.  Your phone is going berserk in your purse, probably the boys trying to reach you.  Eventually you succumb to the necessary confession of your twice thwarted efforts.  Minho teases that you are losing your touch for real.  It makes angry little fireworks pop out of your ears.  

Plenty of occasions you have assessed a situation and deemed it unreasonably complicated, but quitting while you’re ahead is not the same thing as admitting defeat.  You do not lose.  This isn’t even about the concert anymore.  Fuck Hwang Hyunjin, he was never worth the pain of a wax in the first place.  No.  This is about your pride.   This is about your dignity.  This is about your honour. 

You are getting into that concert, one way or another.   

First, you gather intel.  This comes in the form of snooping, running between queues to figure out the easiest mark.  You don’t judge the guards by their appearances this time, because apparently this security team has secret taekwondo masters hidden in their midst. 

You watch their every move, calculating and determining your odds therein.  Based on visual research and Minho’s confirmation, it seems your best bet is the smiling guard who let Minho through.  His nametag reads Jisung and he is a veritable flirt. 

Flash him your tits, Minho texts.

Uh, no, I’m not that desperate yet.       

Second, with your intel now acquired, you get into the dwindling line.  The sun is almost set and a breezy summer chill dances across your cheeks.  The concert will be starting soon.  You shuffle behind the other stragglers, adjusting your outfit.  The jean shorts hug your hips and flash a nice chunk of thigh, and your shirt is already low cut but you figure another tug won’t hurt.  You also pull your flannel down your arms to look as flirtatious as possible. 

Jisung is barely looking at the tickets as he scans them, chatting merrily to the guests as he lets them through.  You pull up a random ticket on your phone, something to hold out while you distract him. 

“Hi,” you say. 

His eyes flick down to your chest, then back up.  He smiles brightly.

“Hi!” he says.  “You look nice.  Excited for the concert?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say.  “You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for this.  It wasn’t easy to get in.”

“I know what you mean,” he says.  “Tickets are hard to come by, and so expensive!”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you say, leaning in while he scans your phone.   This was a bad idea because he looks down at your chest again, just in time for his little device to flash red.

“Oh, oops!” he says.  He smiles at you as he shakes his device.  “Sorry!” he says.  “I think you showed me the wrong ticket.  Could you pull up the right one?”

“Ohhh!” you say, looking down at your phone with fake surprise.  Life is so unfair.  “I’m so sorry… Jisung.  Hehe, that’s such a nice name.”

“Haha, thanks,” Jisung says.  “My parents picked it, but, yeah, it’s cool.  Anyway.”  He wiggles his device.  “Ticket please!” 

You keep smiling and giggling, even as you turn around under the guise of searching through your phone.  You glare down at the stupid device, keeping your back to Jisung while you do so.  How the fuck are you getting out of this?  You flip through screenshots then open your text messenger.  Minho’s last words of wisdom blink up at you. 

Apparently, you are that desperate. 

With a sigh, you put your phone in your purse and zip it shut.  You shrug your shoulders and plaster that fake smile on your face again.  With a swift of flick of your thumbs, you lift your shirt and bra up over your tits and spin around to look at Jisung. 

“How’s this for a ticket—”

Jisung looks surprised and delighted.  Jisung, however, is standing a few feet back.  Probably because he was told to step back.  Probably by Felix who is standing in front of you with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.  

“Wow,” Felix says.  “Just committing crimes now, are we?”  

You shove your tits back into your bra indignity, not even embarrassed, just annoyed. 

“Tits aren’t a crime,” you say. 

“Public indecency is,” he replies.  

“You’re… publicly indecent…”  Not your best comeback.  You glare at him while fixing your shirt.  “There’s no way they pay you enough to be riding my ass this hard.” 

“They don’t,” Felix says, grabbing your arm.  “Believe me when I say riding your ass has been my pleasure.”

“Twisted fuck,” you reply. 

You wave at Jisung as Felix tugs you away.  He waves back but does nothing to rescue you, because all men are traitors. 

You groan loudly as Felix leads you away from the stadium yet again.  “Just let me innnnn,” you whine.  “Why do you hate meee.”

“I don’t even know you!” Felix says.  He deposits you on a bench and takes out his phone.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eying the device.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks.  “You tried to break into a ticketed event three times.  You faked an injury.  You flashed yourself in a public place—”

“I wouldn’t have done any of that if you just let me through in the first place!”

“You cannot be serious.”  Felix looks ready to rip his hair out.  “You don’t have a ticket!  Why would I let you in, why would I – AH!  Why am I arguing with you!  Be quiet, I’m phoning the police.”

“The po— the police?!  How dare you!” You try to stand but he pushes you onto the bench one-handed.  He holds you there, palm on your shoulder, still way stronger than someone this scrawny should be. 

“Fine!” you exclaim.  “Fine!  You win!  I’m sorry, Felix, I was wrong.  I was wrong and you were right.”

Felix pauses.  “Really,” he says, sounding unconvinced. 

“Yes!”  You look up at him with the saddest, most watery eyes you can muster.  “I just wanted to see the concert but it was stupid to think I could break in.” 

He turns off his screen.  Success.   You watch him slip his phone in his pocket. 

“It’s not about being smart or stupid,” he says, the ire gone from his voice.  It takes a lot of willpower not to bite his fingers when he pats your shoulder.  “It’s about the fact we can’t always get what we want,” he says kindly as he crouches in front of you.  His hand goes from your shoulder to your knee, still patting it in a friendly manner. 

You bite your tongue because you want to tell him you liked him better when he was being a mean bitch, but that would be counterproductive to your escape attempt. 

It turns out, you don’t need to say anything, because he decides to be a bitch again anyway.  Felix looks at you with a too-sweet smile and says, “It’s about time someone taught you that lesson.”

“Um, excuse me?” you say, aghast.  You clasp your hand over your heart.  “Just who do you think you are?  First of all, you taught me nothing, I’m still a horrible bitch and I lied when I said you were right.  Second, you absolutely can get everything you want, you just have to want it enough to get it.  But you wouldn’t know anything about that.  You know why, Felix?” 

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he expected this, which he probably did, but you’re too far gone to retreat. 

You reach out and cup his face in both hands, turning it to you.  Those sharp eyes are unflinching, even with your fingers on his face.  You try really hard not to gulp. 

“It’s because you are a good boy,” you say.  “You always do what you’re told.  You always follow the rules.  I bet everyone thinks you’re the nicest guy on the team, don’t they?  I bet they call you cute little nicknames and all the nice little girls think you’re a sweet, innocent baby.  And you are, aren’t you, Felix?  You’re just such a good, good boy.  But me?  I’m not good.  I’m not bad.  I just like to win.  When I want something, I get it, because I chase it, and I don’t stop until I get it.  Until it’s all mine.”  You lean in close.  “Get it?” 

His gaze darkens, brows pinching.  You take his fleeting moment of vulnerability to shove him onto his back.  He sprawls on the ground with a surprised yelp.  You sprint away at top speed and flip him off over your shoulder. 

It’s a haphazard ploy at best but you are fresh out of plans.  What you need is distance between you and Security Guard of the Year, a breather long enough to come up with a final plan.  Maybe you can physically break in somewhere: an office window, a janitorial stairwell, something.  

You keep an eye out for potential openings as you run. 

And run.

And run. 

Hmm.  You’ve been running a long time.   Even with the head-start, Felix should have caught you by now.  You doubt he would have truly given up.  Felix had a deranged look in his eye, similar to the one you get when someone is trying to beat you at your own game.  He doesn’t want you to win anymore than you want to lose.  You suspect it isn’t about the concert for him either; this is a personal battle. 

You come to a gradual stop, hands on your hips as you catch your breath.  It’s quiet on this side of the stadium as the queues were on the opposite end. 

Quiet, yes.  Too quiet.   

There’s a stairwell that leads to second level just above your head.  Felix is good.  You have to give credit where credit is due.  If you weren’t a scheming nightmare with a penchant for con-artistry, he probably would have caught you.  But without turning around, you know he booked it up the stairs and is two seconds from springing an attack. 

You take off running, just in time for him to thump into the grass beside you.  You laugh at his strangled cry of frustration as he scrambles to his feet. 

Around the next corner is the parking lot.  You stop a split second to look over your shoulder and see him hot on your heels.   He discarded his jacket and is in a loose sleeveless shirt, revealing he does have some light toning to his lean body.  But you don’t stop to measure how proportionate it is to his strength, because he is focussed on you like a laser. 

Then he smiles.  A slow, slinky smile like a cocky predator about to swipe at its prey.  That cat has claws, nasty ones, and you almost want to get tangled in them.  Almost.  You want to win even more.   

And he just set you up for success.  There’s a SECURITY jacket on the ground somewhere nearby.  That’s your ticket in.  You just have to lose Felix in the parking lot and loop back around to find where he tossed it. 

You spare no time setting that plan into action, giving Felix a smile of your own before you run.  He thunders after you.

The pair of you weave in and out of parked cars.  He disappears for a second behind a row of trucks.  You whip your head around to figure out where he went, only for him to summersault around the corner and cut you off.  You yell instinctively but narrowly dodge his reaching hand.   He curses, running after you with his arm outstretched.   You duck behind a trailer and lose him, scurrying between some SUVs.  You peek at him through the windows, watching him turn in a circle to find where you went.  Smiling to yourself, you quietly but quickly back away.  

You leave the lot and run back the way you first came.  You find Felix’s jacket draped on a random bush. 

Your heart is practically singing with adrenaline.  Victory is in sight.  You push yourself to run faster and reach out with both hands –

— only to find yourself rolling in the grass, Felix’s arms tight around your middle as he tackles you to the ground. 

You push and pull at each other, cursing and scrambling very ungracefully.  You get out of his arms but he climbs on top of you, then you knee him in the gut so he rolls over, but when you start crawling he grabs your ankles and drags you back. 

Ultimately, he Taekwondo Masters you onto your front, hands clasped behind your back.  You kick your feet and wail despondently into the grass as he kneels over you, breathing raggedly and swearing again. 

“You’re a monster!” you shout.  “You’re a tyrant and a bully and you have no right to – HEY!”

He handcuffs you.

“Ha.”  He leans in close, speaking right into your ear.  “I win.” 

“That’s not fair,” you say.  “You can’t just—ahh!”  You wail in petulance as he lifts you onto your feet.  His grip on your bicep is unyielding so you are forced to stomp alongside him as he escorts you…

…back to the sidewalk.

“You’re not busting me?” you ask in confusion.  You thought for sure he was going to drag you into some shady office and plop you in a chair until the police arrived.   He would probably be super boring and professional about it, staring at you with his dumb horny eyes but not doing anything about it.  Nothing sucks more than being all trussed up by a pretty boy with manners. 

“I just want you to go and never come back,” Felix says. 

“Fine.”  You turn around and hold your arms straight behind you.  “But I’m like a wolf, Felix.  I have your scent for life.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says.  “Not how wolves work by the way.  But fine.”

“Oh wow, sorry.  Didn’t realize you majored in Wolfology.  You got any other fun facts?”  

“You are so—”

You smirk at his grumbling.  You are just biding your time until he uncuffs one wrist, then you whip around faster than he can compute the action.  With one cuff still attached, you grab the second and clamp it down on his wrist.  He sputters in bewilderment, at which point you snatch the keys.

“What are you doing—”  He tries to grab them but your joined hands make the angle too awkward.  You spin around together in a few circles, bonk heads twice, until finally you reel back and chuck the keys as far into the distance as possible. 

He stands there, mouth agape.  You tap your foot impatiently. 

When he realizes what has happened – that you have handcuffed yourself to him and thrown away the keys – he looks at you with fiery eyes, fierce enough you stumble.  He yanks your joined hands, the chain ungiving.  You watch as he goes through several stages of grief in a matter of moments.  Then he closes his eyes and breathes in and out.    

“Why,” he says slowly, “did you just do that?” 

“I dunno, Felix,” you say.  You plop down on the ground and sit cross-legged.  It forces him to bend over, your cuffed wrist dragging him down.  “Guess we’ll have to go inside and get some back-up keys.  And when I’m in the stadium and you uncuff yourself from me, I promise not to run away.”   

“That’s your plan?” he snaps.  “That’s your plan?” 

“What, is there an echo out here?”

“That’s your plan?” he asks again, his deep voice pitching up an octave.  He crouches down and shoves his free hand into his hair, shaking his head.  “This can’t be happening,” Felix says, more out loud to himself than you.  “Why is this happening.  Oh my god.” 

You squeak when he tugs on the chain, yanking you close, nose to nose.

“What if I just called for back-up?” he asks. “Or skipped that and went right to the police?  How would you get out of that?”

“Wait,” you say.  “Why aren’t you doing that?” 

“Because.”

He leans back as far as he can, sitting on his heels.  You duck your head, trying to meet his eye to no avail.  He clenches his jaw.

“Felix,” you say.  “Why aren’t you just calling for back-up?”

“Because,” he says through gritted teeth.  “The handcuffs.  Are.  Not.  Regulation.” 

You look at each other.  There is a long moment of silence. 

Then, “What!”  You cackle with complete and utter abandon. 

A very unamused Felix glares at you while you throw your head back and laugh. 

“You?” you cry, poking your finger against his chest.  “You?  You?  You are just walking around with a pair of handcuffs that you aren’t supposed to have?  What the fuuuuuck—”  You think you might die laughing. 

“Jisung gave them to me before our shift!” he exclaims.  “It was a joke because— Never mind! I don’t have to explain myself to you!  Hello.  Hello.”  He grabs your chin with his free hand and turns your face roughly to his.   He jingles your joined hands.  “Not regulation,” he says.  “There are no other keys in this building.” 

Silence falls again. 

Then, “Oh.”  You stare at him.  “Shit.” 

A minute later, you and Felix are scuttling around trying to find the key.  You must have a very good arm because it landed near the stadium and disappeared in some bushes.   

You and Felix keep forgetting your wrists are connected, reaching in opposite directions only to snap back together.  You are certain you are going to end the night with a few bumps and bruises. 

The entire time you are searching for the key, Felix is grumbling irritably.  He tears his way through a bush, his deep voice pitching up with a miserable whine when he can’t find it. 

“This is so stupid,” he says.  He throws a stick at the wall.  “I am a good worker.  I never break the rules.  I am not getting in trouble for this. You did this.  You did this to me.” 

On he goes, grumble, grumble, grumble, bitch, bitch, bitch. 

“It’s not like the key disappeared,” you say, pushing some pebbles around.  “It has to be here somewhere.” 

It is starting to get dark, the sky a deep purple.  The stadium lights blare down on you.  Felix uses his phone flashlight to beam extra light at the ground.  The only time he stops grumbling is when the noise in the stadium changes, the concert clearly beginning.  He takes time out of his busy searching schedule to give you a mean smile. 

“When we find those keys,” you say, “I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and leaving you to freeze to death in your stupid tank top.”

“It’s not a tank top,” he says.  “It’s a t-shirt.  I cut the sleeves off.  And when we find those keys, I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and phoning the police.”

“Well then,” you say, “may the best key finder in a slutty tank top win.” 

“It’s not a tank top.”   

You continue to search.  It is utterly illogical that the keys would just vanish but the longer it takes, the more concerned you get.   It just doesn’t make sense!  Things don’t just disappear!  The keys landed somewhere over here, so they have to be…

You see it first.  You sit there in a stunned stupor.  You swat at Felix with your cuffed hand.

“What?” he says without looking at you.  You continue to slap him until he forces your hand down, tangling your fingers with his.  “What!” 

You point.  He crowds in behind you to look over your shoulder.  You feel him exhale. 

“Please don’t tell me…”   

You both lean to look down the sewer drain.  He flashes his phone light over it.  Something silver glints back in the darkness. 

“Fuck!” Felix says.  He doesn’t stop there.  What follows is a string of cusses so unbelievably foul and complex that you honestly believe it should quality him for Pulitzer in poetry.  When he has exhausted every expletive in several different languages, he plops down on his ass and stares up at the sky with mute despondency.   

“So what happens now?” you ask.  “Do we fuck?”

“What?”  He looks at you with utter bewilderment.  “What the fuck?  Why would you suggest that?  What would that solve?”

“Nothing,” you say.  “But it would kill the time and couldn’t make things worse.” 

“You are insane,” he says.  “I am handcuffed to an insane person.” 

“Hey, ‘mate’, you were the one with the non-regulation handcuffs in the first place.  I could solve this problem real quick by phoning the authorities myself and saying some crazy guy put me in cuffs.” 

“I dare you,” he says.  “Try.”

“No,” you say.  And not just because you have a record with the police and they would never take your side.  But Felix doesn’t need to know that.  Well, you suspect Felix is smart enough to guess it, but he doesn’t need the confirmation.  “I’d rather make you suffer,” you say instead.  You sit back in an insouciant slouch like the whole circumstance is beneath your attention.  “Figure it out, pretty boy.” 

“Well,” he says, “apparently if you break your wrists then you can force them through the cuffs.”

“Ew!” You push him in the middle of his chest.  He doesn’t fall, but he does glare at you.  “We’re not doing that!  What a stupid plan!  You’ve been guzzling the hair dye fumes, buddy.  Think of a plan that doesn’t involve injury, thank you.” 

“I didn’t want to do this,” Felix says with another put-upon sigh, “but fine.  I have another pair at home so the keys—”

“Wait,” you interrupt.  “I thought someone gave you the cuffs today?  Why do you have another key at home?”

“I have another pair,” he repeats, “of the same handcuffs.”

“You—”

“Already own a pair, yes, move on.”  He aggressively pushes hair out of his eyes.  “He clearly bought it from the same place so my key should work for this one too.”

“So despite your uppity school boy routine, you do own non-regulation handcuffs and not just as a joke.  Wow, Felix.”  You giggle helplessly.  “Be careful or I might start to like you.” 

He is glaring at you, no surprise, but the tips of his ears blush pink. 

“Let’s just go,” Felix says.  “The sooner I get you off, the sooner I can forget about your existence.”

“You can get me off as fast or slow as you like—ahh!” 

Once more, the secret superman is manhandling you onto your feet.  Without pausing for breath, he turns and marches away.  You are forced to stumble behind his swift strides, your hands swinging close enough that your fingertips brush every so often.   

“How do I know you’re not gonna murder me?” you ask.

“You don’t,” he replies.

“How do you know I’m not gonna murder you?” 

“I don’t.”  He sounds more annoyed than afraid.  “But it sounds better than being cuffed to you forever.  I’ll take my chances.  Come on.” 

“Not like I have a choice,” you grumble. 

He comes to an abrupt halt and you crash into him with a sharp exhale.  He grabs your hand and tugs you close. You blink at him with surprise while he tips his head in that studious way.

“You’re right,” he says. “You don’t.  In fact, it’s almost nice, you forced to finally do what I’m asking.  If you’re not careful, it might even make me like you.” 

It is so cold and sarcastic. 

It gets you so hot. 

Seriously, what is with your stupid brain?  How does it cross the wires of fear and desire like that?  Felix is speaking at you with that deep, dark, nasty voice of his and your heart should be skipping beats in concern, not because you think he’s sexy when he’s being a bitch.  

You hide it from him well enough, glaring at him like he glared at you.  He just snorts and shakes his head. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Interesting,” he replies.  “Very interesting.”   

“What?”

“Nothing.”  He smiles politely, for a moment looking like the unassuming pretty boy you thought he was.  He bats his long eyelashes at you, smiles a coy smile, and squeezes your hand.   “Come on,” he says.  “We tried this your way and it got us in trouble.  Time to be a good girl and do it my way.  No, stop, don’t say anything.  Be quiet.  Just walk.  Let’s go.” 

You stumble when he tugs you after him.  Your mouth is hanging open yet again.   

You are proud to say that in your many years of bad girl shenanigans, you have never truly met your match.  You’ve played pretend a few times, let a couple losers think they won, if only because you liked the game of it.  But no one has ever really taken control.  No one has ever really beat you.  No one has ever come close. 

No one.  Until today. 

You glare at the back of Felix’s head, brain stampeding as fast as your heart.   Because finally, you’ve found him, your perfect match.  Lashed to you through the metal manifestation of fate’s red string. 

You didn’t know what game you were playing before, but now you do.

And you’re going to win.  

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #felix smut #skz smut

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Oh yay, I love your writing btw!! Could I request Jack Kline discovering that he absolutely LOVES it when reader gives him hickeys?? And after the first time he just keeps asking for them bc he always wants a few on him at all times to remind him of you. Thank you!!!!

Okay first of all anon thank you for the kind words :) so glad you love my writing. And Jack plus hickies hmm.....let's see what we can come up with for this little HC.

Okay so Jack and hickies, let us begin!

At first, and obviously being new to this whole human intimacy, Jack never really understood why he would see some bite marks on people's necks.

Bless him at first he thought they had been attacked by vampires but managed to escape before they took the first bite.

But after going to you, his partner, you explain to him that those are not bites from a monster, but bite marks from their spouses called hickies.

"So hickies are.......a sign of affection?" he questions.

"They can be. Sometimes people like to mark their partners as theirs."

"Like a possession? But I thought humans weren't things?"

"No, well that really depends on the whole kinky thing depending on the relationship. To be honest babe, it gets complicated if I try to explain it. The point is, hickies are just really deep kisses and soft bites people do to their partners as a sign of affection."

"Will you give me one?" he asks after a moment of silence.

"You--you want a hickey?" you ask.

"I'd like to know what they feel like. We love each other, right?"

"Yes, absolutely. Only if you're sure."

"I am. So what do we do first?"

He was ready to get straight to business. It was both funny and kinda cute, especially when he gave you that adorable smile of his.

So you begin with a simple make out session. Cupping his face in your hands before finally separating your lips from his.

You then tilt his neck to the side.

"Now just relax, and enjoy it. But if I'm too rough or it hurts too much, just let me know okay?" you say to him. he nods.

It first begins with you kissing his cheek before slowly going down towards his neck.

You hear him let out a gasp as your lips began their path down his neck before stopping midway down his neck.

His body slightly tenses up so you stop and ask him.

"Should I stop?"

"No!" he says urgently. "No don't stop it--it felt......good."

So you continue. With a few kisses just around the spot before giving him a small bite to his neck.

Suddenly a lightbulb explodes from one of the lamps at Jack's bedside which startles you.

You turn to see Jack's eyes glowing gold.

"Sorry." he apologizes. His eyes turn back to normal and you say.

"It's fine. Just didn't expect that. Should we go on or is it too much?"

"I'm enjoying it. Maybe a bit too much. I'll try to not use my powers, I promise." he says as he brings you back chest to chest.

You resume your position and give him another love bite before lightly sucking on the skin of his neck.

He breathless gasps and soft moans are music to your ears as he even tightens his grip on your waist.

After finishing off with a couple of licks of your tongue to ease the stinging sensation, you separate.

"When do the marks show up? How long do they take to form?" he asks.

"Well that depends. I didn't want to go too extreme but I know there's definitely a bitemark there." you then watch as he goes over to his bathroom mirror and observe his new mark.

And he waits, and waits, and waits.

That boy does not move a muscle from his bathroom. Soon enough you got tired and fell right to sleep on his bed.

"Baby! Baby! Sweetheart wake up! Wake up! It came!" you open your eyes to see Jack turning his neck to you and there you saw it.

A light purple bruise from where you had made his first hickey.

"Yep, there it is babe." you say tiredly.

"I love it. Do you think you can give me another one?" he asks excitedly.

You turn to see it's around 2:45 in the morning.

"I'll give you one when the sun's up, now can I go back to sleep?"

"Right sorry. Sleep my love. And thank you for my new prize." you didn't really hear much after he told you to go to sleep.

After that, Jack proudly shows off his hickeys to everyone and all.

In fact there are times he demands more hickeys even when one side of his neck is completely covered with them.

He gets a bit hickey crazy until you tell him that there needs to be a time for healing before any mote hickies can be given.

Of course he pouts because he just loves showing the world your love for one another.

But he allows his current hickies to heal and will just take the normal make out sessions you guys will do every now and then.

There is one time when he tries to return the favor by giving you a hickey.

But he didn't quite understand how the love bite works and accidentally bit you too hard.

Bless the boy he felt so bad, he first healed you of the bite mark and vowed he'd never do it again while frantically apologizing for his mistake.

You calmed him down and said all was good and that you didn't blame him.

In conclusion, Jack Kline loves receiving hickies from his beloved and will wear them like badges of honor. And he doesn't care who stares or Dean's comments of him being 'whipped'.

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #jack kline #jack kline x reader #jack kline blurb #jack kline imagine #jack kline imagines #jack kline fanfic #jack kline headcannon #jack kline fanfiction #jack kline smut #jack kline fluff #jack kline x gn reader

[stillarandom-radfem]

This post is going to cause controversy here on radblr. I already know that, and I'm ready for it. But there is something that I've just got to get off my chest, here. It's been bugging me for a long time now, but for the longest time, I couldn't quite find the words to describe my feelings.

Here's the thing. It's not that female separatists are wrong, necessarily, with regard to their arguments about male violence. OSA women like myself are at a greater risk of interpersonal violence from men, intimate partner violence does make up the majority of domestic violence statistics, men are the most likely people to rape or murder us, and yes, living without men therefore probably would improve straight and bisexual women's lifespan/overall quality of life in most cases. BUT. The way many female separatists (who are most often lesbians) go about presenting their arguments is not only unnecessarily rude to women who have done nothing to deliberately harm them (and, when it includes such colorful monikers as "dick worshipper" and "cock rider" in it, reasonably comes off as an attack), but it includes many of the same tactics that homophobes use against LGB people to make their point. I'm sure that homophobes doing that stuff to you is hurtful, but I'm also at least 99% sure that heterosexual women who are radfems (or rad-adjacent, if you prefer) aren't the ones leveling those attacks, and don't therefore deserve to be responded to with such ferocity. Two wrongs do not, in this case, make a right. And it needs to stop.

For example, you ask?

Acting like heterosexual relationships must be purely sexual, with no actual love involved whatsoever.

I see LGB people complaining about homophobes doing this to them all the time. "You think our relationships inherently obscene or kinky because you can't picture us actually being in love; all you can think of is the sexual part! You think a sizable chunk of the population is incapable of love or human connection, and that is dehumanizing!" Yes, I have no doubt in my mind that it is. But then look at what you do when you try to call out heterosexual/bisexual women for being with men, and you are doing exactly the same thing to us. You talk about OSA relationships, and the first and, often, only thing you ever bring up is the sexual aspect of them. The word "love" almost never comes up. It's like it doesn't even occur to you that OSA women might actually fall in love with or have very deep romantic feelings for their male partners, not unlike you, as a lesbian, may have or have had towards any girlfriends you have ever dated, any women you have ever crushed on, or, if you're lucky, your wife. Now, do OSA women have sex with our boyfriends or husbands, if we have them? Of course we do! Have you ever had sex with your wife or girlfriend? Or, if you're single, would you, if you had one? Of course you would, and you know it! Does that negate your feelings for her, somehow? No? Your relationships are not purely sexual just because there is sex involved? Then why would you assume that sex being involved would make heterosexual relationships suddenly be only sexual? Also, news flash: vibrators exist. So do dildos. Or women (including het women) could just use their fingers or a pillow. There are many ways for a woman of any orientation to get off without a man if getting off is all that she's after. If she is choosing to be in an actual serious relationship with a man, it's most likely because she's in love with him. You are trying to convince her that there is something more important for her to consider, in spite of her feelings. So, perhaps instead of insinuating that she is some kind of sex-obsessed slut who is screwing over her entire sex deliberately for the sake of a few orgasms, you can start start there, instead.

Acting like other people's sexual orientations can be changed (not yours, of course, just, you know, everyone else's).

I see homophobes acting this way towards LGB people all the time, claiming that the sex(es) you are attracted to is a choice somehow, shaming you for preferring the "wrong" one (or the "wrong" one at the moment, if you're bi). Which, personally, has always struck me as kinda weird, because they never seem to apply the same logic to themselves. They never stop to suggest whether their own orientation is a choice or not. I guess it's pretty obvious why they won't, because then it comes down to two possibilities: if they are with strictly the opposite sex by choice, then it's very probable that they are actually bisexual, and behave as they do towards gay people due to internalized homophobia, whereas, if their strict opposite sex attraction is not a choice, then they have just admitted that their own orientation is innate, so why would they assume everyone else's not to be? It makes no sense. And incels will take it a step further, yelling slurs at lesbians for only wanting to have sex with other women instead of them. It's all pretty fucked up and illogical, and just for the record, I think you all deserve much better. Of course your sexuality isn't a choice. And yet... I mean, I can't even begin to count how many lesbian separatist blog posts I have read full of women acting as if heterosexuality is a choice. "Ew, moids are ugly, dicks are gross, what's wrong with you, why would you choose that?!" Newsflash, gyns: we didn't. That's just our sexual orientation, and we didn't choose it any more than you chose yours. We may still choose to be celibate in spite of our orientation, or, if we're bi, we might still decide to only date other women. But we will still always have the capacity to be physically attracted to/fall in love with men, and for those of us who are straight, we can only experience that with men exclusively. That's just the way it is. We can't control that; it's innate. Some of you, upon grappling with this fact, immediately jump straight to the incel way of doing things and begin slinging the aforementioned colorful monikers (ahem, sexualized anti-woman slurs aforementioned in this blog post) for only being attracted to men instead of you. It actually smacks of sexual harassment, and then you wonder why so many straight women stop following/won't follow you. Or, leap right into calling us lesbophobes because we don't want to take sexual harassment like that from anybody, man or woman alike. Call me crazy, but the last time I checked, a "lesbophobic woman" was a woman who hates lesbians for only being attracted to other woman, not a woman who simply refuses to date/sleep with you. What, you have a right to bodily autonomy, but straight/bisexual women don't?! And yeah, I know, I know. "Stop comparing us to incels! Lesbians aren't predatory!" Well, true, most of you are not. The vast, overwhelming majority of you are completely fine and normal. But I always give the side eye to any notion of an entire group of people (any people) being all perfect, pristine angels carte blanche (a scant few people in every large enough group are going to be creeps), and if a scant few of you don't want to be compared to incels... Well, then maybe you should stop behaving like them. Because, when you explicitly resort to their same tactics, even I get the ick off of a few of you, and I'm probably the least homophobic straight person I know. 🤨🤨🤨

They call you "c*rpet m*ncher", "qu**r", "f*g", "d*ke", etc., over your orientation. You then call women (who probably didn't even call you that!) "dick worshipper", "cock rider", etc., over ours.

Enough said. Do I even need to point out (again) that these are almost all just a bunch of sexualized, anti-woman slurs? Do you really think that this is going to bring women over to your side, as opposed to just driving them away? And do you actually think that your female separatist movement is going to have any kind of major societal effect if you would rather drive women away from it, rather than bringing them in? It won't have any impact that way; it will only die out. And, look, I don't think that homophobes should be treating you like that, either. They most definitely should not. I have no doubt that them slinging those slurs at you constantly over your sexual orientation (which you can't control) is extremely hurtful and probably even scary for you. You deserve so much better than that. But, again, last time I checked "lesbophobe" means someone who hates you for only being attracted to other women, not a woman who refuses to date/sleep with you, and, from what I can tell, radfems appear to be, by and large, very pro-gay. Even when we, ourselves, are not. So, it seems very unlikely to me that we're the ones calling you names like that (unless you can show me receipts or something, in which case, go ahead). Until that happens, it occurs to me that people of all sexual orientations are pointing fingers, accusing each other of being sex-obsessed perverts, and calling each other names because, idk, maybe the drama is more interesting to some people than minding their own business? Or they literally can't wrap their minds around being attracted to that sex, so they attack anyone who is? Idk, it all seems very juvenile, and I should think there would be better ways to tell someone that some aspect of their lifestyle is unhelpful to the movement and/or mentally unhealthy to them than merely resorting to often sexualized mudslinging attacks. Honestly, no matter what your views on female separatism or sexual orientation are, can we all just agree to a ceasefire on the relentless mudslinging on all sides?? Please??? This is middle school shit, and it's really getting annoying. Everyone. On both sides. You're like a pack of schoolyard bullies. Stop it.

Again, I'm not saying that female separatists' arguments against dating/sleeping with/marrying and/or having kids with men are entirely wrong. Male violence is a problem for a lot of women, and refusing to be in relationships with them probably would reduce it greatly. But acknowledging heterosexual and bisexual women as being capable of romantic love towards whichever sex(es) we are capable of experiencing attraction to, acknowledging all sexual orientations as something innate that can not be changed and not a choice, and refusing to resort to juvenile mudslinging attacks will not take away from those facts in any way. So, I guess I just don't see what the reasoning is for so many female separatists to refuse to even consider them?

#radfems please interact #radfems please touch #radfems do interact #radfem safe #proud radfem #proud radical feminist #female separatism #sexuality #lesbian #bisexual #heterosexual

[captain-mj]

Muzzled Ghost prompt! Where Ghost gets caught and Soap immediately goes to find him. When he does he finds that Ghost has freed himself but still has a muzzle stuck to his face and well Soap might get a little too hot under the collar seeing his Lt angry, victorious, and annoyed about the muzzle but surely they don't need to get to the exfil right away do they?

Yes... Yes... I'm loving these asks

Soap was staring. He shouldn't be, but christ how can you blame him??

His Lt was a sight to see. Stripped down to his tactical pants, lines over his chest from where he was no doubt tightly tied down, but never secured. His blond hair spiked up and messy. He was clean, no blood or dirt on him which was shocking considering. Though, it seemed Soap had killed everyone coming in, meaning Ghost just had to free himself.

That was all... one thing. Already, Soap would be gagging for him. But now, there was the added fact that Ghost was collared and muzzled. They had used brown leather ones, obviously meant for a human with the way they curved around his jaw. The collar and muzzle had a string that kept him from moving his head properly.

"Johnny, thank fuck. It's locked. You have a lockpick right?" Ghost looked at him, pausing once they made eye contact. Soap realized he was drooling. "I know you like me shirtless but pull yourself together Sergeant." He crossed his arms over his chest like he was a blushing bride trying to protect himself from Soap's wandering eyes.

"I um... Yeah I..." Wait. He laughed awkwardly. "Actually... I don't have a lockpick... Mine broke at the beginning of this mission. Remember?"

"Jesus fucking Christ." Ghost tugged at the leather, making it press taut against his skin and Soap went weak in the fucking knees. "Help. Me." He hissed at him.

"You look so fucking good." Soap mumbled, accent thick as honey over his words.

Ghost went red, all the way down his chest. "You kinky bastard. Like seeing me in a fucking collar?"

"Collar is helping, but that's not my focus, Lt." He reached up, grabbed the muzzle and yanking him down. Without his boots, Simon was still tall, but he didn't tower over him quite as much.

"Bloody Hell." Ghost mumbled out. "I'm the one muzzled but you're the one acting like a fucking dog." He looked embarrassed. Fucking hell. His badass Lt, bashful..

Soap couldn't kiss him so he pulled him closer, starting to back him up.

"Eva-"

"Can't it wait just a minute, Simon? I think if we don't fuck, I'm going to die here." He pressed his hard cock to Ghost's legs, looking up at him desperately.

"Jesus Christ. Are you still open from before?"

"Yep! Shame I can't fuck you, but we can always get a muzzle for home."

Ghost shook his head but let Soap desperately undo Ghost's pants. He shoved him down, realizing he was probably sore and hurting from everything.

"I'll just take care of you right now okay?" Soap got on top of him.

Ghost shook his head and looked up at him. "Jo-"

"Put your hands behind your head and keep them there." Soap interrupted.

Ghost stared at him for a moment before slowly, achingly, complying. He crossed his wrists, pale skin all on display. Soap needed to appreciate this view more. Fucking hell.

"God you're gorgeous."

"Johnny." He bit it out like it was warning but he was clearly starting to enjoy himself. Soap took off his pants and settled more properly on Ghost's hips.

Ghost stayed eerily still, staring up at him. His pupils had dilated, taking up the majority of his iris. Soap swallowed thickly and wondered briefly how feral Ghost could get. Part of him wanted to push. See what he could make him do. Ghost had a knack for making Soap a pathetic needy mess, but with the way Ghost was staring into his soul like he'd devour it if his mouth wasn't covered, he wondered if that went both ways.

Soap spit on to his fingers before sliding them into himself. Ghost tensed but his hands stayed where they were supposed to. It would sting a little, but Soap hated having to wait through prep in the best of circumstances. He knew it was necessary, but Christ, he wanted the real thing.

So Soap quickly sank down on Ghost, panting softly at the feeling. "You're so big."

Ghost's hips jerked up into him and Soap quickly grabbed the collar. The tiny whimper that got from Ghost was going to be in every single one of Soap's wet dreams for the rest of his damn life.

"Don't move." Soap ground down on him and Ghost fluttered his eyelashes at him.

"Johnny. Please, we don't have time for you to tease me."

God Soap hated that he was right. He started moving faster, slowly moving up and down on him with a lazy grin. Fuck it felt like Ghost was tearing him apart, but he wouldn't let Ghost know that. "You so rarely give me control, sir. Forgive me for wanting to indulge." His thighs pressed against either side of Ghost's hips, clenching around him.

Ghost moaned. Soap almost drooled at the sweet sound. His mouth could be seen through the leather and he could see it was open. His soft tongue just barely visible. He was trying so hard to stay still.

"Good boy." Soap offered and Ghost groaned, head falling back. He started riding him much faster, with much more purpose. His hands reached down and grabbed the soft flesh of his pecs. Soap wanted to be greedy. Take his fill of this before the mask went on and Ghost went back to being his rough and tough Lt. He leaned down and bit his shoulder, feeling him almost shake with the desperate need to touch Soap.

Ghost looked at him, eyes hooded and desperate. Black greasepaint smearing down his face. "Fine."

"fine?" Soap echoed, a bit confused.

"I'll let you muzzle me and get fucking creative later just speed up." Ghost groaned.

Soap's brain went wild with ideas already but he couldn't deny him. He scratched down his chest as he bounced on him, twisting his hips slightly when he almost got to the base of his cock.

Ghost panted and moaned, making it hard for Soap to keep a rhythm when he sounded like that. His hips kept stuttering or thighs clenching.

"Come on, Simon. I got you." Soap ran his nails over and Ghost came inside him, going quiet as he did. He stroked himself to finish on Ghost's chest.

They silently got dressed afterward and eventually found Ghost's gear. He had his extra lockpick in and they quickly got Ghost out of the muzzle and collar. He pulled his mask back on.

Soap stashed the muzzle into one of his pockets. For later.

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #soap call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #simon rile

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Of Fire and Falcons

Since they met at a Florida Renaissance faire a year and a half ago, fire spinner Crowley and falconer Aziraphale have been a great deal more than friends, but they've never quite admitted what they really feel about each other. Now Crowley has fallen in love, and he has five weeks at the Catskill Mountains Renaissance Faire during the most romantic season of the year to convince Aziraphale to see the light. A Good Omens Human AU set on the American Renaissance faire circuit.

Length: 54,201 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: After Dark, Romance, Human AU, Pick-me-up

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by CemeteryAngel725

*Minor Spoilers* God, I know this is a particularly adaptable pairing but how does every AU just work with them? This setting is so far removed from canon and yet unmistakably them. Except hornier, much more horny. Like complete sluts they are in this.

So in this AU Crowley and Aziraphale are both Renaissance Faire performers. Ren Faires aren't exactly my thing, but when I was a senior in high school they filmed a (awful) movie at the Ren Faire near us and we spent weeks there as extras, during public hours and after. It was such a neat experience going slightly behind scenes (also because we got to meet Matthew Lillard and Christina Ricci). So I have a normie soft spot for them. This perfectly captured the atmosphere. Even down to the rainy days! The camaraderie and community was wonderful. It's not just a flimsy backdrop for the AU, it's a full fleshed out and lived in world. I don't want to spoil the ending, but something brings the entire group together and it was a wonderful scene. I love the Faire family they have made.

More than that, Aziraphale being a falconer and Crowley being a fire performer was thrilling and unique. They are both so competent at what they do and each have such an awe of each other's skills. Which just makes them even more horny for each other. Truly this is the one time where going to a haunted house as foreplay makes sense for them. I'm like, yep, that tracks. They have a wonderful relationship here, with real life problems. This story doesn't make up villains to create a Heaven/Hell type of separation for them, it's just normal life that keeps them apart. Eventually they will become each other's anchor and home. A safe place to land. Also thank you for giving them tattoos!!! I adore them tattooed

Lots of fun and lightly kinky sex here, so not one to read out and about. It's such a fun, lighthearted romance. The setting is such a wonder to explore. And now I'm craving a bread bowl....

Read it here, fic by CemeteryAngel725

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfic rec #aziracrow #good omens fic rec #aziraphale x crowley #Of Fire and Falcons #CemeteryAngel725 #after dark #romance #pick me up #five flames #wedding #human au #performer au #artist au

[lullabyes22-blog]

Mal de Mer - 18+ Poll - Smut / Aftercare / Human Biology

Adults ONLY for this one.

I'm very curious, despite this being a controversial subject: what's y'all's opinion on characters peeing after sex? Spec. peeing in front of each other after sex?

I ask because it's endlessly amusing to me that characters will have marathon sex sessions where they're constantly gushing/squirting/creaming in each other's faces, but peeing afterward is just too gross and realistic.  Like - do they all die of UTI-related kidney infections before old age even sets in, or is it just the, "We will ignore the biological fact that the female character's urethra is a lot shorter and has significantly less resistance to bacteria, so there's a good chance that after she goes three rounds, she is going to get up and pee right after, if not in the middle of sexy times."

I personally prefer to draw a veil of modesty over the act, and imply it secondhand - Character X staggering off to wash up in the background and coming back to cuddle. But I've definitely gotten a kick out of a few works where Character X just whips it out to pee while Character Y is also in the bathroom.

It's just a silly, matter-of-fact, human, thing to do. And we as humans are not nearly as pristine as fiction makes us out to be.

For Mal de Mer, half the theme is a budding sense of trust between our main characters - and them navigating intimacy within the context of their respective hang-ups re: marriage, sex, and physical closeness. Also, when one can get comfortable enough with another person to pee around them (and not in a fetishy way), it's generally a good sign the relationship is on solid ground.

Yes, there are other ways to establish intimacy - but a shared bathroom break is an intimate act and one that's rarely shown in a healthy light in media or fiction, which I find hilarious.

(This is not a poop poll. That deserves its own space, disclaimer and discussion. None of which will be happening anytime soon.)

So! Let's hear it. Would you write characters peeing after sex? Would you read them peeing after sex? In the same space even! Is it weird? Is it gross? Would you rather not know about it and let the imagination fill in the blanks?

All of this to say - in addition to kinky sex, trauma, drowning, maternal wounds, hysterical breakdowns, PTSD, politics, parenthood, and existential crises, Mal de Mer will have a brief scene that includes peeing.

It'll be fun. I promise.

(Also - thank you so much for your comments and support on this story. The kudos and comments and inbox flailings are really keeping me afloat for this rarepair tale<3)

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane mel #mel medarda #fanfiction #fanfic #poll

[thestraggletag]

this is @rumbelle-scream! i've been in love with rumbelle since sept. 2023, and i missed getting The Thing when i first started!!!

as a rumbeller 🫡 may i please ask for The Thing? 🥹

One The Thing coming right up!

WELCOME TO RUMBELLE, YOU SWEET SUMMER CHILD. I SEE YOU THERE, SO YOUNG, SO FRESH, SO WOOBIE. LET ME SLOWLY CLASP YOU TO MY BOSOM IN A MOTHERLY WAY.

NOW YOU STUMBLE AROUND, A LITTLE LOST RUMBELLE CHICK NEEDING LOVE AND GUIDANCE, TREMBLING WITH THE FORCE OF A THOUSAND BOTTLED-UP FEELS. NEVER FEAR, FOR WE’LL TAKE YOU IN, SINCE YOU HAVE BECOME

ONE OF US.

WE HAVE TEA, FOR YOUR SHATTERED FEELS. WE KNOW IT HURTS, WE’VE ALL BEEN THERE. MOST OF USE JUST DUMP A LOT OF VODKA INTO THAT TEA. IT’D BE EASIER TO JUST DUMP A TEA BAG INTO A BOTTLE OF SMIRNOFF, TO BE HONEST.

HERE, DEARIE, ARE SOME GIFS I BRING FORTH TO YOU SO YOU CAN BLOG ABOUT YOUR FEELS, AND HOW RUMBELLE RUINED YOUR LIFE AND YOU LOVE IT. TAKE THEM, DON’T BE SHY. YOU WILL NEED THEM, YOUNG PADAWAN. THEY WILL BECOME YOUR NEW LANGUAGE. BE WARNED, LITTLE ONE, FOR THEY ARE OF A SPOILERY NATURE THAT MIGHT HURT YOUR WEE EYES. THEY’RE ALSO AWESOME, SO YOU SHOULDN’T STARE AT THEM DIRECTLY.

LIKE AN ECLIPSE.

OR RUMPLE’S LEATHER PANTS.

AND SINCE THIS IS A PRETTY COMPLEX FANDOM I DIRECT YOU TO A WELCOME PAGE SO YOU CAN GATHER YOUR BEARINGS AND EXPLORE MORE OF THIS MAGICAL LAND OF CHIPPED CUPS AND SEXY SCALY MEN. IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS THERE YOU’LL FIND ANSWERS. IF NOT YOU CAN ALWAYS SEEK THERUMBELLE TAG, AND POST QUESTIONS THERE. RUMBELLERS ARE ALWAYS THERE TO ANSWER.

ALWAYS. RUMBELLERS DON’T SLEEP.

IF YOU FEEL THE NEED FOR SOME LOVELY VISUAL REPRESENTATIONS OF THE UTTER PERFECTION THAT IS THIS SHIP I DIRECT YOU TO THE RUMBELLE ARTTAG, WHERE MANY TALENTED PEOPLE POST TALENTED THINGS THAT PRODUCE BOTH AWE AND ENVY.

AND LAST, AND THIS IS WHAT I’M KNOWN FOR…

WE.

HAVE.

PORN.

NO, NOT LIKE OTHER FANDOMS. NOT SOME PORN. NOT ANY PORN. WE HAVEALL THE PORN.

ALL OF IT.

EVERY KINK.

EVERY FANTASY.

EVERY POSITION.

FOOD SEX, PEGGING, BONDAGE, S&M (BUT THE REAL TYPE, NO INNER GODDESSES, ALL KINKY FUCKERY), CANE PORN, PRIEST PORN, CANNIBAL PORN, SHADOW!SEX, DADDY!DOM, DOM/SUB, BLOODPLAY, MIRROR-SEX, PREGNANCY KINKS, POWER-SEX, INTERSPECIES SEX, LACTATION PORN, DAGGER!PORN, RAPTOR!PORN, MAGICAL SEX AND MANY MORE.

WE GOT THE SORT OF STORIES WHERE THE DARING SWORD FIGHTS, MAGIC SPELLS AND PRINCES IN DISGUISE ARE EASIER TO BELIEVE IN THAN WHATEVER TANTRIC, MARATHONIC SEX-A-TON RUMPLE AND BELLE ENGAGE IN DAILY IN FIC, WHICH DEFIES THE ENDURANCE OF THE HUMAN BODY AND THE LAWS OF PHYSICS.

I DIRECT YOU NOW TO MY FANFIC REC LIST, WHERE YOU SHALL FIND MANY TREASURES. I ALSO GIVE YOU A REC LIST OF REC LISTS (A LIST-CEPTION, SO TO SPEAK). YOU CAN ALWAYS GO TO THE RUMBELLE FICTAG IF YOU FEEL YOU NEED MORE RUMBELLE PORN FICS IN YOUR LIFE. AND YOU WILL. AND IF YOU WANNA HIT THE MOTHERLOAD OF RUMBELLE FANFICTION CHECK OUT THE RUMBELLE LIBRARY, RIPE WITH DECADENT FICS FOR YOUR PERUSAL.

IN THIS FANDOM WE LIKE TO CELEBRATE WITH FIC, COPE WITH FIC AND START MASSIVE FIC WARS SO THERE ARE SEVERAL YEAR-ROUND EVENTS DESTINED TO BRING FORTH MORE RUMBELLE SEXYTIMES  MOMENTS: THE RUMBELLE SECRET SANTA (ORGANIZED THREE YEARS IN A ROW AND TOTALLING AROUND 350 FICS), FLOOFAPALOOZA (FOR WHEN YOU NEED TO GO ‘AWWW’ DESPERATELY), 50 FIRST HAMBURGER DATES (YES, WE GOT IT BAD), THERUMBELLE CHRISTMAS IN JULY (FOR THOSE LONG HIATUS MONTHS), THEMANTIS DAY MENAGERIE(BECAUSE OUR SMUT NEEDS MORE CREATURES IN IT), THE GREAT RUMBELLE BLOWOFF AND THE RUMBELLE SHOWDOWN. IT ALL CULMINATES WITH THE T.E.A. AWARDS, WHERE WE MOSTLY CONGRATULATE THE WRITERS ON ALL THE SEX, FLUFF AND TEARS (GREAT PLACE FOR NEWBIES TO ALSO SEEK FIC RECS!).

MIND THE SPOILERS, DEARIE.

BUT IF YOU’RE ALL CAUGHT UP YOU SHOULD TOTALLY CHECK THIS TUMBLR WHICH WILL HOLD PRECIOUS TREASURES SO YOU CAN SURVIVE THE SUMMER HIATUS WITH MOST OF YOUR SANITY INTACT.

WE AIM FOR REALISTIC GOALS HERE.

IF YOU HAVEN’T YET DELETED YOUR TUMBLR ACCOUNT AND MOVED TO A COUNTRY WITHOUT INTERNET CONNECTION THEN CONGRATULATIONS, YOU INDEED HAVE THE MAKINGS OF A GREAT RUMBELLER. AND YOU’RE GONNA LOVE IT HERE.

NOW LET ME HOLD YOU GENTLY, SOFTLY, LOVINGLY.

Welcome to the fandom, dearie

#RUMBELLE #WELCOME TO THE FANDOM #IT'S 2024 BUT WE GROWIN' #RUMBELLE-SCREAM

[fandom-pantheon]

Oh, this will be a rant. Bear with me, or ignore me. You can either argue or agree… However, if you want to read, it will be a freaking essay. Just a warning.

1. MATES! Or better yet, the whole thing about mates being rare and the SJM being like: “You get a mate, and you get a mate, and you get aaaaaaa MATE, etc”, makes perfect sense. Like in ACOTAR you have a world divided in half. Literally half the population is separated by a freaking wall. If Feyre didn’t cross the wall, and eventually became Fae, Rhysand would never found his mate. Nor would Cassian or Lucien. Rhysand father was over 900, when he found his mother. Do you have any idea how many times he could have died??? In ToG, you don’t have winnowing, or teleportation. Traveling the world for weeks on end? Months? Years? Which human will do that? How many of them? And if Aelin and Rowan didn’t find each other, neither would Lorcan and Elide. For example. And in CC? Their powers were corrupted, and with that their senses as well. So yeah. MATES ARE RARE!!!!

2. The whole critique of HOFAS. I get it if you don’t like it. That’s perfectly fine. However, there is no reason attacking some of the well established characters like Nesta and Azriel. First thing first. Nesta, and the whole story how SJM just ruined the ending of ACOSF, cause Nesta was all healed and whatnot. Depression is a serious illness, that is far from easy to beat. And even if you “beat it”, it does not end overnight. Yes, she had an amazing story of overcoming all that was there, but still, it did not disappear. And it probably never will. There can be days, weeks and months that it can take hold of you. That is perfectly normal, and fine, and Nesta falling again, does not mean she is back there. She has her family, her friends and her mate to help pick her up, and having a bad day or two, or a week is NORMAL. Even for people who do not suffer from depression, let alone the one who does. So don’t attack with the whole “ruined the journey of Nesta”, cause it ain’t true. We do not know what is happening in Pyrithian yeat, so chill.

3. I’ll make it a new point. AZRIEL!!! My baby. If SJM stays true to her words, my little kinky baby! 😜 Why the freaking f*ck, is it weird to have Az there instead of Cass? Like yeah, Nesta and Cass are mates, but that does not mean they are joined by umbilical cord for f*ck sake! Az is a spymaster, and it makes perfect sense for him to be trailing them. Being found out however, by accident or on purpose is questionable, but it makes so much more sense for him to be there and get as much info about this new person from different world. If there was a battle, full on war, yeah, I would expect Cass, freaking GENERAL of Night Court ARMIES, there, but for this mission?? People, have you heard of common sense?? Just cause you want to see more of Cass and Nesta, does not make it a good idea for running a court as High Lord. Deal!

4. Az and Nesta friendship? Amazing. The way he calmed her down, with mentions of Cass and Nyx. Amazing! And it is established in ACOSF that there was friendship between the two, so why the fuck are ppl freaking out? Is it because of the fantasy of threesome?? Excuse you!!! Get your mind out of the fucking gutter prudes! Just because Cass was the main love interest and turned out to be her mate, does not mean she cannot enjoy her own imagination. For fuck sake, woman keeps reading smutty books, of course she has a dirty mind. And at least 1/4 of those books have 3somes in it, if not the whole reverse harem!!!! What women (in her sexual prime, like she’s 25 or something) would not enjoy 2 hunks worshipping her??? If you wouldn’t, well… keep lying to yourself. The rest of us know the truth.

5. AZ DESERVES A MATE! Now repeat after me! AZ DESERVES A MATE! No, not Elain. Gods not that bitch. And she will turn out to be a bitch I’m 99.99% sure of it. As Rhysand mentioned, even roses have thorns. And we still have to see what she has to show. I’m sure it’s foreshadowing. Nobody is that nice. Or better said, nobody is that nice for a long time. I’m not even sold on the idea of Lucien and Elain, let alone Az and her. Be it Gwyn, Eris, Helion or Mother herself, Az deserves a mate! A mate who will love him! All of him, good and bad, and icy. And no, not the one that will “melt his ice” but the one who will embrace it. Cause it won’t be Az anymore. I didn’t see Nesta taming Cassians wild side, but going along with it, enjoying it. So why would Az mate “melt his ice”??? The mate his shadows will feel comfortable with. Where he can go through his day and find shadows missing, finding them with him/her/them. Doesn’t matter. He needs his own journey, full of trials and errors, and full on f*ck ups, for his happy ending. I believe it will be Gwyn. But it can be anyone but Elain. She will never love him fully. She will always, even when she refuses Lucien, feel the mating bond, and I cannot explain how badly I don’t want that to happen to Az. Cause HE will wake up every morning thinking: “ Is this the day she leaves me for her mate?”. And seeing his brothers happiness with their mates, he will ask this. And he deserves so much better!

6. RHYSAND! Just that! FREAKING RHYSAND! Why the f*ck are ppl freaking out about his behavior in ACOSF and HOFAS??? Let’s start from the beginning. RHYSAND is a well established character. And he is the same from start to now. He is a manipulative, scheming bastard, secretly trying to do good things, by whichever means necessary! Good or bad. For f*ck sake, he was Amarathas 2nd in command and her whore for 50 years… Like, yeah, he is good, and he is a feminist, and he is all of this and that, but he is still just… him! That won’t change, and I don’t want it to change, cause I really like his character as it is. (You have every right to hate him, but not on the account of him “changing”) Him threatening Nesta when she revealed the risk of pregnancy! YES, YES, and YES! He had every right to do so, and him telling Cass to get her out of there, was more than I would have done. (And no, I am not talking about the moral dilemma of him not telling Feyre in the first place, cause that was bad, however, what would you do? We can discuss morality all day long, and everybody would take the high road until it’s time, sooooo… Don’t!) Oh, and him reprimanding Nesta in the extra in HOFAS. Again spot on. Because, if Az or Cass have done something sooooooo stupid, he would have beaten them in the training ring to the inch of their life. Mor would probably take the full burn of his power. And Amren… Well let’s not go there. Most of the ppl started talking shit about Rhys and his behavior in HOFAS, however I was pissed, and I’m still pissed at Feyre.

7. Feyre!!! Oh my Gods!!! I’m starting to hate her. I liked her so much. Strong FMC, overcoming her obstacles, trying to do good for her family and friends and mate. But HOFAS! So mad!!!!! YOU ARE A F*CKING HIGH LADY! Your damn sister just gave one of the deadliest weapons to basically complete stranger, who btw, came to your house and wrecked PRISON of all places… In Midgard Avallen island changed completely. What the f*ck happened to the prison when she took part of the star??? She f*cking freed the Asteri/Dalgan in you house, and you sister was like: “Yeah, sure, take the mask, please don’t die or fall prey to the Asteri”. And you give shit to your MATE and a f*cking HIGH LORD of the court for reprimanding you damn sister??? Like f*ck off bi*ch. I’m all for feminism and females supporting each other, but this is politics! This is a leader talking to his subject, not a f*cking family show on air. Honestly, it’s starting to look like Feyre is abusing Rhys, and using his feelings for her and their mate bond to do things the way she wants them to be done. And I hate that it looks that way.

8. This is the last one for now. Az and Rhys interaction in extra in ACOSF. AGAIN, ppl say it with me… RHYSAND IS A HIGH LORD OF THE NIGHT COURT!!! So yes, they are friends and all of that, but at the end of the day, Rhys is the leader, and he knows his shit. And he has every right to say that shit to Az. However, I do think it is misleading. We will see if I’m right, but. If Gwyn is Az mate, I believe she knows. And I believe Rhys knows as well. I really think they are friends. (Especially over the things that happened to them, and knowing who their mates are, but not telling them, since they weren’t/aren’t ready. The whole scene of Rhysand telling Nesta to be respectful to Gwyn kinda gives me that vibe). So him telling Az “he will make him regret it”, kinda comes from that. However, I get a feeling (again might be wrong, time and SJM will tell), that making Az regret his action will involve his mother. We had mentions of her, sooooo. (I have this reoccurring thought, about a random attack, that Az takes care of, on one of his spying missions, and the enemy mentions that they will take his mate or something like that. Az coming back to Velaris, and freaking out about Elain being in danger, and everybody freaking out as well. Until Rhys asks to look at what happened, and realizes that the enemy was not saying Elain, but his mate, and runs of in search of Gwyn, who’s been attacked or kidnapped… Yeah, just there sitting in my head. Does not want to leave.)

Anyway, that’s it for now. There are much more points I would like to make, but I’ll leave it for some other time.

It took way longer than anticipated to write this. And I’m sorry for any grammatical error or misspelling. English is my second language.

If you stuck till the end, thank you, and let me know what your thoughts are??? I would appreciate discussion over open war, but go ahead and do what you like….

Love,

Lady Tina

#acotar #acowar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acofas #a court of wings and ruin #feyre archeron #feyre cursebreaker #rhysand #night court #azriel #cassian #morrigan #cresent city #hofas #house of flame and shadow #maasverse #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm universe #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #bryce quinlan #eriel #gwynriel #feysand

[theeggoman]

I am genuinely scared that once AI starts officially and somehow legally stealing art from artists on Twitter to feed into Elon Musk's AI company that there will be no more spaces for LGBT people to exist online. I'm talking about NSFW art, NSFW writing, discussions about kink and BDSM and leather, advice about transitioning and surgery and STD testing, resources for homeless LGBT youth, comics and animations and stories about queer love. The internet loves to hate gay sex. They demonize us, humiliate us, infantilize our bodily autonomy and choice and the moment you bring up anything relating to your own sexual experiences you're now a target for ridicule and shame. We are not profitable. We are not family friendly. We are "inappropriate" for normal people, and across every single social media platform we are banned. Our discussions about the basic human experience of sex expressed in ANY WAY are eventually banned. Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr, Youtube, Tik Tok, Deviant art, the restrictions and requirements and borderline threats from Patreon. As much as we've all hated it, Twitter has been a final stand. It's a place for furry art and gay porn and weird kinky fanfiction and BDSM. There's a community of people who exist together online and nowhere else. And people don't care that we're losing it, yet again, because they want people to like us. They want people to approve of us, to accept us. They want to be palatable for a straight audience, for a heterosexual society that has only barely begun to tolerate us out of necessity and the turn of deemed popular opinion. It's the internet mob mentality that crucified trans youth as "transtrenders" out of fear that they themselves would be targeted next. It's the accusations against drag queens being inappropriate for children. It's the LGB without the T because they fear they will be next. If they could just package us into something respectable, maybe the rest of the world wouldn't hate them so much, right? Get rid of the "bad" gays and suddenly our parents will love us again. Show them they're wrong, we're not pedophiles and rapists and groomers like they've been accusing us of being for centuries, we're NORMAL and GOOD and PURE, we like Heartstopper, not Yaoi! We don't fetishize gay men, we don't sexualize our trauma! We don't even LIKE sex! See, we think sex is immoral and shameful and wrong just like you. Will you love us now?

The truth is they will never love us. They will never want us. They will never accept us. The more we fight for our rights, they more they will try to take them way. The more we fight amongst ourselves, the more they will try to divide us.

I probably sound insane talking about niche queer Fandom spaces like some kind of gay revolution, but the ability to be unapologetically gay and trans and gross and weird and find a community of people you can be with who are all like you, who are working through that trauma together, who you meet online and fly out to visit in real life, who you love: It matters. It matters so much that they keep trying to take it away from us. I don't really know what the future holds here, I'm just rambling my anger onto the only platform that actuslly gives a shit about the artists on it. I just want the young people in the community to understand that this IS a community. And it matters.

#trigger warning #tw #pedophillia mention #rape mention #just let gay people exsist??? just let us fucking exsist.

[iblisterbottoms]

This was something my wife wrote almost 12 years ago. About coming out about your fetsh to your partner.

When I was just getting started as a fledgling perv was I total nervous newb. I’d had pervy fantasies since approximately forever; in fact, the first sexual fantasy I can remember having involved spanking and anonymous sex. But I’d kept it a DEEP DARK SECRET. I mean, I did not tell a single human being at all, ever, not even a little.

Hell, I kept my complete irredeemable pervitude a secret from MYSELF. I’d say things like, “Oh, those are just fantasies. I don’t REALLY want to do them.”

Uh huh. Suuuuuuuuuuuure.

Eventually I did come out of the kinky closet and while hair-raising it was also amazing and cataclysmic and changed my life and was totally worth it.

But here’s what I wish I had done differently. It’s only one thing, but it’s a big one.

When I was coming out about my kinks, I wish I had separated my desire for my partner to KNOW who I was as a sexual being from my desire for them to DO kinky perverted things to me.

I tell you, the torment I endured and I see other kinkyfolk endure. ”But what if they don’t want to DO that stuff with me? What if they think I’m totally awful and sick and broken and disgusting?!”

What a terrible feeling, to feel like the person you love might be completely disgusted by you if you tell the truth about who you are. How horrible and sad!

Our sexuality is so tender and personal that I think it’s impossible for us to refrain from taking negative reactions to it personally. What could be more personal? And what could be more painful than being rejected in such a personal, private way by someone you’re intimate with?

Yeah.

Here’s what I think you can and should expect from a partner: I think if you tell an intimate partner something private and sensitive about your sexuality, they should respond to you in a kind and caring way. If they don’t, call them on it.

Here’s what I think we CAN’T expect from a partner. We can’t expect that they want to do the same kinky pervy stuff that we do. We can’t expect them to instantly get used to the idea and immediately fall all over us doing deliciously awful things to us. We need to give them time and space to think it over, and although it’s sad, we have to accept the possibility that they might never really be into the stuff we’re into. (That, of course, is scary, because depending on the circumstances you might end up in Should I Really Stay In This Relationship territory).

So. Listen up, New game plan.

We’re gonna Divide. And we’re gonna Conquer. (Or be conquered, whatever floats your boat).

If you’re going to out yourself to a sweetheart about what a giant spanko you are, don’t make it about them doing those things with you.

Make it about them knowing you.

Wait until you can say that the reason you’re telling them this stuff is that you want them to know who you are as an erotic being, full stop.

Tell them that you’re telling them this because you want them to know, and while you would love to do this stuff with them, you’re not going to pressure them to do any of these things. Ever. At all. And mean it.

That’s scary, isn’t it? Yeah. What if they never come around to the idea? Is it the end?

It might be. Or it might not be. But if it is, you wanna keep your dignity. You don’t want to remember that the end was preceded by pressuring them to do things they really didn’t want to do. If they don’t want to do it, and you decide that it’s important enough that you really do need to find a partner who’s closer to your own sexual stripe, there’s no point in pushing them.

Obviously, that’s not the outcome most of us are looking for. So separating the “this is who I am” talk from the “hey remember that stuff we talked about…what do you think?” talk raises the chances for a positive outcome.

Why? Well, I think a lot of people react negatively to a partner’s revealing a kink because they immediately think that they’re under pressure to do whatever that kink is, right now, or their partner will be upset. Add this to the fact that they may have all kinds of extreme and stereotypical ideas about that kink, or that they have to work out how that kink relates to who they are.

Separating telling them about who you are from doing kinky stuff is critical because it gives the other person TIME to react as their best self. It puts you in a better place to have a compassionate reaction to them if they’re freaked out and think you’re going to leave them for the spanking commune.

You’re probably going to have to come out more than once, even with the same person. Coming out is a process. It’s likely that a partner’s first reaction isn’t going to be the reaction that you expected or wanted.

What I hope for you is that you tell your partners about all your fabulous kinky pervy stuff and they fall all over you and rip your clothes off because they think it’s so uber hot they can’t stand it.

And if that doesn’t happen, what I hope for you is that your sweetheart eventually comes around to the idea that it is super hot and fun even though they were kinda skeptical about it at first and wondered if they’d have to wear leather chaps, and they’re so grateful to you for expanding their erotic horizons and they just think you are the best thing ever.

And if none of that happens, what I hope for you is that you can be kind to each other and keep your chin up. You’re not awful and disgusting. You’re a badass awesome kinkyperson from the badass spank tribe. Don’t forget that.

[2af-afterdark]

Camshow MC - Mammon

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: GN/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Mammon, Main Character

Additional Tags: GN!MC (they/them pronouns), Demons are very large compared to humans so MC is sometimes referred to as being smaller, sex toys (anal plug) 

Summary: Mammon is watching his precious human taking these perverts for all their worth.

A/N: I was planning to make some headcanons for the men finding MC's camshow… but then they got super long and now they are split up.

Word Count: 892

They were beautiful. He never knew how handsome they would look in a suit with their hair done up. Honestly, Mammon was getting upset just watching them even though they hadn’t done anything yet.

"Sorry ladies and gentledemons, but I'm already taken. This is just for fun. And because my boyfriend is a total perv.”

Is he in the chat today?

“You know I can’t tell you that, but I sure hope he is or else he’s going to miss the special show I have planned tonight.”

They stood up, only to kneel on their seat and lean against the back so their butt was front and center in the camera’s lens. The fabric of their suitpants pulled tight over their ass, letting everyone see the every curve and angle. That included a strange bulge.

They unbuckled their belt, loosening it before moving on to unbutton and zip their pants.They hooked their thumbs into their waistband and rolled the pants down their legs.

The sight that greeted the audience was the stunning yellow-jeweled flare of the plug that was shoved inside of them. Mammon’s face went hot and he had to stop himself from slamming his laptop close.

Have you been wearing that the entire time?

Kinky!

Does your boyfriend know?

They laughed. “Well, he does now, doesn’t he? At least, I hope he does. I’ve been training so hard for him to be able to use it. I’d be upset if he found out after all of you.”

Oh, they were riling him up. They were showing off their ass to everyone watching them and he couldn’t stand it. They were fucking phenominal and everyone was eating it up as much as he was.

"Okay everyone. Shall we make my boyfriend jealous then, because this thing vibrates~" They leaned back, clicking a few buttons on their keyboard before a prompt appeared on stream. Donate a few grim, turn up the power, and watch them try not to cum all over themselves. "I get to keep the pot if no one makes me cum, otherwise it goes to the person who donated the most. 5 minutes. Go."

The meter that measured donations broke almost instantly as horny demons started practically throwing money at them to try and overwhelm the toy.

It wasn't for nothing, as they just as quickly dug their fingers into the back of their seat and moaned obscenely. If the camera could see their face, the audience would be able to tell how their mouth hung open and their eyes rolled into the back of their head. 

Thankfully, even the more powerful toys made by demons had limits to how high they could go. 

That and none of these stupid demons knew how to make his human cum.

It was a losing game from the start. 

Even after 5 minutes of endless donations, they were no closer to cumming as when they started. They were simply playing these demons for fools. Mammon had to admit, that was hot. It was a hustle if he'd ever seen one.

When the five minutes were up, they looked back at the camera with a cheeky smirk. "Looks like I'm keeping everything. Better luck next time."

There were complaints about the entire thing being rigged, or how it would work if the audience just had 5 more minutes, or even some saying they wanted to see the cum show now that the game was over.

They only gave a wink.

"Maybe next time. After all, you all get closer to finally making me cum every time. Next time may finally be the one."

The toy was still buzzing by the time they signed off and left the chat vacillating between a mixture of disappointment, anger, curiosity, and arousal. It was like they thought they were ever going to win.

As if.

Mammon knew for a fact that no one in the audience would ever be able to make his human finish for one very simple reason. And that was…

There wasn't even a knock on his door before it slammed open.

They stood in the doorway with disheveled clothing and an expression twisted around itself. He wondered if they knew he could still hear the buzzing of the toy they hadn't bothered to turn off through the fabric.

"Were you watching the show?" They asked as they slipped into the room, closing the door behind them.

He definitely was.

They walked up to him, leaning their head into his chest and looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I want to cum."

They only had to say it once for him to lead them to his bed and strip them bare. He'd been the one to choose the plug he was now pulling out of their ass fully knowing it was going to be used to milk those suckers that had been watching them of all the grimm they had. And what a haul it was.

But he knew they could have an entire week to make his human cum and it wouldn't matter, because – and he was reminded of this as he replaced their toy with his fingers and kissed them as deeply as he could – they only ever felt good enough to orgasm when they were with him.

He only needed one minute to do what they couldn't in five.

#2af writes #obey me smut #mammon smut #gender neutral fic #cw sex toys #cw voyeurism #camshow series

[ensignsimp]

Kink hc for Solok?

Kinky DS9 Solok HCs

A/N: Thank you requester for sending me that DM. Remember if you have a +18 request please DM me so I can verify your age. Also I think I had a little too much fun with this one

Prompt: Kinky Solok (like we are surprised he is).

Top, Bottom, or Switch

Solok is most definitively a power switch.

While he may indulge you from time to time, he prefers to have complete control.

When he does bottom he is a power bottom.

Basic Kinks

Strip Tease: He enjoys watching you strip out of your uniform at the end of the day.

He can't help but undress you with his eyes during your shift when he sees you.

When in Pon Farr he doesn't even wait for you to take it off, he just rips it to shreds.

Lingerie: He did not understand why humans found such undergarments appealing until he saw you in them.

You would have nothing but skimpy green lingerie on all the time if he had it his way.

If he sees you with it on under your uniform he will take great satisfaction in your reprimand.

Oral: The first time you preformed it on him he almost burst in your mouth.

He had never felt such a sensation before and he is always willing to try again.

He did try it on you once and seemed to enjoy that more, finding your taste alien and erotic.

Medium Kinks

Worship: His ego knows no bounds and it reflects in the bedroom.

He's practically euphoric when you (his human mate) worship and praise him.

He'll be irritably smug the whole week after.

Impact: Spanking and Scratching and Biting (OH MY!).

He enjoys leaving a visible mark on you skin. (Declaring you as his mate.)

To watch you squirm under him while he reprimands you drives him crazy.

Brat Taming: He enjoys it when you (argue) "debate" with him. It gives him a challenge.

He especially likes it when you are stubborn or push back against him.

This gives him an opportunity to discipline you later.

Hard Kinks

Bondage: He found the practice to be a rather interesting discipline.

He uses it as a way to restrict your movements so that he can control you better.

He feels such a rush when you glare or scowl at him trying to muffle your moans.

Power: He will use his rank and enjoys every second of it.

He will have you refer to him as "Captain or Sir".

It is always more interesting taking you in his ready room. He even had it specially fitted with soundproofing for "security reasons".

Exhibition: During his Pon Farr the idea of taking you out somewhere in the wilds and hunting you down thrills him.

He would never ask such a thing of you (except for in a holodeck).

However if the two of you just so happen to be stranded on a deserted planet for a few days...

#star trek #star trek ds9 #star trek deep space nine #star trek deep space 9 #ds9 #deep space nine #deep space 9 #solok #captain solok #x reader #solok x reader #captain solok x reader #ds9 captain solok x reader #ds9 solok x reader #star trek x reader #star trek x readers #star trek x reader requests #vulcan culture #vulcan romance #vulcan/human romance #vulcans x humans #i love vulcans #vulcan x human romance #spicy content #spicy hcs #spicy hc #spicy headcanons #spicy headcanon

[sorcerous-caress]

Another human kink idea that pop up in my head

Imagine how elves wizard who study magic for hundreds of years to realize that they are on the same level of 20ish yo human wizard

I hope you are doing well btw

— RED anon

Yes! That fact never made sense to me either. For example, if Gale, a human who's clearly in his 30s, managed to become an Arch-Wizard, then what's stopping elves with lifespans ten times his own.

Theory A

Humans are born with an invisible xp multipler. Since at the end of the day, the dnd universe functions by game rules, and characters do, in fact, "level up," but they're not aware of it themselves.

To make up for their short life spans, all short lived races either are born with an xp multipler that lets them achieve more faster, or elves are born with a xp multipler that has a negative penalty.

So if a human by themselves has a multipler of 100% per year of magic study, then elves would have a 10% multipler. While dragonborns would have 110%. Kenku and Goblins get a 140% etc.

What about immortal creatures? Simple, they start with 100% or whatever their base race multipler is and suffer a decay penalty the more years they live past their age. But i feel like there should be a cap, maybe it can never get less than 1%.

Theory B

All races have the same xp multipler, but elves tend to fuck around doing nothing all day more. Maybe study one page for week and call it a day. It's not on purpose but their perception of time is really altered, what feels like hours to us might be seconds for them.

So if an elf really wants to, they can study all their life and actually become one of the most powerful arch-wizards. But they just...don't for some reason. Maybe it's the way Corellon made them, maybe being a wizard is scoffed at amogst their ranks because they are all born with inherited magic and the idea of learning and borrowing magic from the weave is insulting. Like how in drow society, most wizards are male, because if a women can study or do magic then it's considered much better to become a priestess of Lolth. Being a wizard is an insult.

Theory C

Because humans are speical and I said so :"((((

Because what if they really are? What if elves have been genuinely trying their best to become wizards and study all their life but for some reason, it's just not enough, yk. Maybe the weave prefers the short-lived, maybe Mystra prefers the humankind. Who knows.

Magic is Not like math, at least not like non-quantum math bc god knows that shit is the closest we will ever get to actual magic. People have been trying to marry it with actual physics and our normal math for years to no avail.

That's why kids are so much better at magic, you see. Magic is limited by your own brain, your own creativity and how you bend the rules.

What are humans known for? Their endless potential and creativity. What are they best at? Breaking the rules.

Maybe the human brain just clicks with magic. Our entire evolution of becoming really good problem solvers. Maybe solving puzzles for fun is a unique experience for humans which is why most of them end up falling in love with magic.

Anyway, that's all for the theory, kinky smut below about wizard elves and humans.

Okay so hear me out. You're a child prodigy in magic, far beyond your years and your understanding of the weave is so personalised and intimate that by a young age you started writing books to teach others your own ways.

As the years went by and the more wizard study certificates you've collected, you decided to teach at a magic university. You were so far known but the one thing everyone glosses over was the fact you were human. It was never mentioned in any of your books or writing.

So you're this cute young human professor at this prestigious high elf magic academy for wizards. Standing in front of rows of people much older than 4 or 5 of your generations combined. Having to teach them and be stern.

But they're being so stubborn and petty about the fact that a meek human is trying to act like their superior. Especially being high elves and all. They're tried to not take you seriously and skip your class but found out later that you're one of the mandatory classes for them to graduate so they begrudgingly attended.

Maybe they start thinking of you as eyecandy. Shamelessly glancing at you when you bend over to help look at someone's paper, maybe they start dropping the prof honorific and address you by a name or a nickname in elvish you're not aware of. Maybe even that elvish word has a perverted meaning that flies over your head when you happily answer to it and think they're warming up to you.

They try to become really close, inviting you to their hangouts, inappropriate parties, and everything that a professor shouldn't be attending. They hand you drinks and watch you swallow them down, coaxing you into showing them your cute human games, truth or dare it was called right?

One student dares you to sit on their lap, they coo and run their fingers on your body. Another skips turns to dare you to take your blazer off, why are you wearing formal clothes here?

#♡human kink #♡human reader #and I'm doing well thank you for asking ♡♡ wby?

[kitchenisking]

June Fic Rec❤️

Summer is almost upon us! its 40c degrees here and we are over heating. so lets enjoy the nice air conditioning and the amazing fics that these amazing author wrote! 😘

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill  - (Rating: Mature, Words: 70382, sterek)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." -----

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

Not all treasure is silver and gold by princecharmingwinks  - (Rating: Mature, Words: 26597, sterek)

Captain Derek Hale is on a mission and he needs a fearless crew. His betrothed has been kidnapped, his family lives in exile and he harbours a dangerous secret. Enter Lady Erica Reyes, the perfect Quartermaster to join the crew. Erica has her own reasons for needing to escape her seaside town. An abusive father with a suggested 'arrangement' has forced her to create her own future.

A Derek and Erica friendship on the high seas, all in the name of love and family. Because not all treasure is silver and gold.

monday i can fall apart but by friday i'm in love by tryslora - (Rating: Mature, Words: 5609, sterek)

It's just past five in the morning and Stiles is barely awake, wearing only sleep pants that hang low below his pregnant belly, and he can't get the damned brand new jar of decaf coffee open. But he has a neighbor, and he's too tired to think that waking someone else up at this hour might not be the best (or politest) of ideas.

Human Things by ChloeWeird (ChloeBYoung), SylvieW - (Rating: T, Words: 10542, sterek)

Stiles keeps running into Derek, and can't leave well enough alone.

if i'm not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that i am? by EvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 13076, sterek)

When Derek’s kids write out their Christmas lists, they insist he writes one too. Not long after it's deposited in Santa's mailbox, he's reunited with the man of his dreams.

Stiles.

Derek can't help but fall for him again. It's really too bad Stiles is so obviously taken.

...or the one where Derek’s a grump who makes assumptions about his pregnant omega neighbor.

Disposition by Tulikettu - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 56104, sterek)

Stiles has an itch. A kinky, kinda dirty itch he needs to scratch. 

So why not go on the Internet and look for a complete stranger to scratch it? 

Derek needs a partner for his rut. 

What a coincidence.

I Didn't Know That I Was Starving (til I tasted you) by LadySlytherin - (Rating: Mature, Words: 4482, sterek)

Derek - who lives in New York with his older sister, Laura - is back in Beacon Hills, visiting his parents and younger sister for Christmas, when everything changes. Cora invites friends over while their parents are visiting other family, Derek drinks something he didn't know he shouldn't have, and things get a little out of control.

Misunderstandings abound, secrets are spilled, and in the end all it takes to find happiness is being brave enough to reach out with both hands and never let go.

The Rarest of Gems by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 26497, sterek)

"There, somewhere, a flower grows. Its curious petals reach in curiosity, but get burned in return. It craves a soothing touch, a lover’s kiss. It is the sweetest nectar, the brightest moonlight, the most alluring starry night. It is the rarest of gems. It is your mate, alpha Hale. But beware and haste, for the flower grows among the most vicious thorns, who can’t wait to tear it apart."

Strong Alpha, Strong Pups by Snare - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7349, sterek)

Omegas are weak. Stiles is an Omega, but Stiles has magic. Stiles is strong.

Stiles is strong, so Alpha needs to be stronger. Strong Alpha, strong pups.

A Rocky Halloween by MichelleDWinchester - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 21830, sterek)

Stiles hasn't been back to Beacon Hills in a while, instead choosing to focus on his University work and internship. Now, however, Stiles is back in town for a bit of Halloween revelry with the Pack and if his risque outfit helps him discover whether or not Derek is even remotely interested in being more than 'just friends' or indeed simply Pack mates, then Stiles is all in!!

#stiles x derek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #fic rec #fanfic #fanfiction #kitcheniskingficrecs