#LC writes

[lokicraft]

Cod thoughtssssss. Inspired by @beloveds-embrace ‘s harpy Gaz + wingless reader concept

CW: kinda angsty with talk of Simon’s past and serious injuries

In a winged!AU, where everyone’s wings are based on real birds and such, some people view those with crow or raven wings as bad luck or cursed or otherwise undesirable. Cliché start, I understand 😅. 

So our boy Simon grows up with his past, abuse amplified by his pitch black wings. Escapes to the military where wings are seen as an asset, and his powerful dark ones make him amazing at stealth. Through being with TF 141, he sees his wings as tools to protect his flock, and he grows to like them. Soap also helps by telling him how much he loves his LT’s beautiful black wings: “It’s like looken at th’night sky ye ken?” Oh yeah there’s definitely poly 141 in here, I love me some winged found family vibes.

And then he finds you.

Maybe on a random night out on the town after a mission. Maybe on a mission and you are a hostage. Maybe you are a specialist coming to base to share info. Or to teach a class. Or just to fix the dammed printer.

It doesn’t matter, because he sees you.

You, who doesn’t have your wings out (totally normal, for a variety of reasons people like to be more private). You, who he knows is just like him. He just knows. It’s in the way you hold yourself, the way you shy away from looking at other people’s wings. The way you subconsciously act like you are lesser than others, because that is what the world has beaten into you. He knows. And he sees the rest. Sees how kind and thoughtful and beautiful and genuine you are. Sees how you show love to the world and the people around you. Sees how smart and funny you are, whether you are fighting with the printer, or fighting for your life. And he kinda falls in love right on the spot.

He courts you. Tries to do it as properly as he can. Introduces you to his flock. They see how much Simon loves you and, through dinner dates and baking cookies and just simply hanging out with you more and more, they fall in love with you too.

And you, despite your best efforts, fall in love too.

You can’t say no to these men. They are charming, honest, handsome, intelligent, irresistible. And even though Simon is still the most mysterious of the bunch, you know him.

You know him because you were just like him once, with beautiful black wings. And every time you look at that man, and you see his wings, proudly splayed in private and public settings alike, your heart soars and crashes simultaneously. You see in Simon the best of humanity, how people can grow to love and protect and live even when they’ve been buried in the darkest pits of the past. You also see what was taken from you. You are reminded of the night where humanity showed you its worst face. In your ass-backwards home town in a country across the sea, where the bigotry of the people you grew up with reached its boiling point. When you were held down and “cut loose of the curse you bring to our homes”. When you lost your wings.

And eventually the boys see you. All of you. And they love you all the more.

They are your protectors, your loyal soldiers, your wings. And you are their reason to fight, their guiding light, their heart and soul.

And it takes a while to get there. You enchant them, and heal them, and give them a home. And they break down your walls, comfort you, and love you like you always deserved.

And who knows if I’ll ever be able to put this in to more words, but at least it’s out there now.

[loniceravine]

gelphie w/ kids 💚🩷

“So, what’s Momsie’s real name?” Galinda asked her three year old. Zorina screwed her face together and then after a clock tick of some very serious thinking, brightened.

“Momsie’s real name is ‘my sweet!’” Zorina said, proud and sure. Galinda sighed.

“No, that’s not my real name.”

“Oh.” Zorina was crestfallen, but only for a moment before she tried again, fixing Galinda with the most serious look. “Momsie’s name is ‘oh Oz.’”

“What? No, why would you say that?”

“Mama always says, ‘oh Oz’ and then she does her head like this,” Zorina explained, shaking her head in a scarily accurate imitation of Elphaba.

“Do you know Mama’s name?” Glinda asked and without missing a beat, the three year old said,

“Elphaba Thropp!”

Galinda narrowed her eyes slightly as Zorina turned back to her coloring. Of course Zorina knew Elphaba's name but not Galinda's.

“Elphaba Thropp!” Galinda shouted to summon her wife. She crossed her arms while she waited for Elphaba to appear.

"What is it, my sweet?"

“Our daughter knows your name but not mine."

"You called me downstairs just to me to tell me this?"

"She knows your name because I say it all the time! She doesn’t know mine because you never say it!”

Bemused, Elphaba shook her head. “Oh Oz,” she grumbled. Zorina jumped straight up and grinned.

“See? Your name is ‘oh Oz,’” Zorina said very seriously. “Mama calls you that.”

“Zorina, that is not my name," Galinda corrected and when Elphaba snickered, she turned to her. "Elphie, that's not my name! What if something happens at school and she needs to know the names of her parents?"

“Everyone at that school knows you’re the mother of the talkative witch whether Zorina knows your name or not.”

Galinda bristled. “I demand you say my name more often.”

“It's not that big of a deal."

“Oh, it certainly is, Elphaba Thropp, and I will make you say it. In fact, all of Frottica will be able to hear you with how very loud you’ll be saying it.”

The smile fell from Elphaba’s face and her lips parted. “Galinda—”

“Yes, just like that, darling,” Galinda interrupted. “I suggest you rest your voice until then.”

[mykingdomforapen]

Cheng Xiaoshi, who felt every classmate's eye turn towards him as soon as the teacher announced the homework assignment for the day. Some were pitying, some were mirthful and smug. A majority of them simply turned to him on instinct, like he was a sudden sound, or a flutter of movement. His grief was their distraction. He did not know which of these were worse.

Cheng Xiaoshi, who--against all odds--knew exactly what he wanted to write. He was brimming with words, as if his rushing blood was ink for his pen itching to scratch itself out from his skin and onto the paper. His dad. He wanted to write about his dad. The way Baba sat him on his lap and read him fables. The way Baba took photos of alley cats at golden hour and made their fur glimmer. The way he joked that the studio was alive and convinced Cheng Xiaoshi that tidying up made the house happy, so remember to throw your dirty clothes in the washing machine.

He loved his dad and missed his dad and wanted other people to love and miss him, too.

Cheng Xiaoshi, who walked scarcely six steps out of the school grounds before the girl wrenched his backpack from his shoulders. Her friends tore into it like a pack of wolves--tossing his erasers, his calculator, his Pokemon trading cards that he had no one to trade with, until she grabbed hold of his notebook and scarpered.

Cheng Xiaoshi, who lost his breath when she taunted him--You've got no dad. What are you going to do, make one up?--and it was only once she killed his dream that he realised he even had one. The dream that he would write everything about his baba, that he would never forget anything from the texture of his stubble to the laugh in his eyes, that he could enchant everyone to believe Baba is alive and well as if he were a fairy thirsting for faith, and maybe that would bring him back home.

Cheng Xiaoshi, who staggered back home that night with a waterlogged notebook, no trading cards left, and a heart that was too tired to be broken. By the time the pages dried enough to accept a pen, he managed only three characters: 我爸爸--My father--and suddenly he remembered too much and not enough about him that any word he could think of felt like a failure. He threw the book aside and crawled into bed, empty of dinner and spirit. If the teacher scolded him for failing the assignment, if Qiao Shushu pursed his lips in disappointment for another write-up from school, if Qiao Ling looked at him with fragile admonition, he still insisted that the fault was on his laziness, and nothing else.

Cheng Xiaoshi, who would find a box of all his old schoolbooks during spring cleaning years later when he was clearing out storage space for Lu Guang to keep his clothes. He touched the crinkled pages of the workbook, river water permanently wrinkling its cover. He would vaguely remember the homework assignment, just like he vaguely remembered his parents' faces, and barely remembered their voices. He flipped through the pages, heart fluttering in his chest like a bird about to be released from its cage and restless for freedom. But he turned to the page and there were only three characters--我爸爸. Three lonely characters, and the only memory that it stirred was the fact that he ever had one.

[ragnarockz]

Tip Jar 💰

Well...

Sweet Dreams are Made of This

Date Everything Betty x Female Reader 🩷🛏️👓🥵

Music inspo: Loser - Beck, Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - Eurythmics, Whose Bed Has Your Boots Been Under? - Shania Twain, Longview - Green Day, Strange Love - Depeche Mode

Rest.

Complete submission into the recesses of your mind until it winds down and oozes into a complete and total emptiness.

Unrest.

Tossing and turning until your mind races too hard and too fast for far too long and whatever mild comfort you may have experienced is now dissolved.

And both of these were taken upon in bed; your bed. You came home to it every night after school, after work. You came more familiar with it when you were let go of your job and the days and nights seemed to stretch and blend and morph into one long, monogamous existence.

You had slumped into your bed after the news of getting fired or, well, in a jobless limbo of unknowing. Your head hit the pillow and you let out a loud and deep sigh. It felt like you were sinking into your mattress with nothing but the weight of despair hanging above you like a dark cloud. You shifted around until you got somewhat comfortable and even still you didn't find sleep right away.

There was always something, usually that helped knock you right out. No, it wasn't a cold glass of water or a melatonin pill or two. It was, without fail, shoving your arm down between your body as you lay stomach down to your bed. The pressure of your body on your hand; the weight of your arm pressed to the mattress as your fingers snake in past your comfiest pair of sleep shorts.

You're not exactly turned on, not yet. It could be pretty hard especially with the reality of the day hanging over you and clinging to the back of your mind. You had been 'let go' because of AI. Everything you had put into this job from the application to the interview had all gone down the toilet in just days. Dreams and hopes and aspirations flushed away and now, maybe pathetically, you were trying to muster up your ego with rubbing one out.

Naturally.

You try to let your mind wander away from work and into something more enjoyable, sensual. You press down a little harder into your hand and feel the perfect amount of pressure your middle and ring finger apply against your clit. You can feel it throb against the pads of your fingers as you sink a little deeper into your fantasies.

You're above them; someone sweet and soft. You feel safe in their arms and against their body. You can press your face into the side of their neck and feel security there and the lingering scent of warmth and comfort. There's a sensation of freshness, newness. You've never felt more at home with them or anyone. You can fall right into them and feel complete.

A strangled moan falls from your mouth and fills your empty bedroom.

Your hand and the sheets underneath you are soaked. Damp and uncomfortable now. You feel sticky between your legs and you realize your entire body is covered in sweat. You blow out a hot breath from your lips as you roll up and off of your cum covered hand. You know the small patch of sheet beneath you is wet and shamelessly smells like a mix of you and your sweat and laundry detergent.

You had just washed these sheets and now they were ruined.

"Goddamnit...forfuckssake..."

Spills from your mouth as you crawl out of your bed to get out of your shame and the mess you've let behind. Your feet hit the plush carpet under your bed and you feel a little bit better; the comfort filling your body once more. You stretch across your bed; breasts pressing into the mattress to full reach around to pull your sheets off. They expand at the corners where the elastic is a little bit tighter; hugging those corners so they don't spring up the second your weight falls into bed.

They spring off easily enough as you bundle up the soiled sheets, gathering it up into your arms. You hear a dull thud hit the carpet near your feet and peer down in curiosity.

Ah.

One of your toys you had stashed away under the right pillow on your bed.

You drop the sheets to pick up the toy; palm sized and great suction. The battery life is pretty good, too. It's dependable and always gets the job done when you need that extra bit of friction and suction against your clit. You place it on your night table and continue on with hauling your dirty sheets downstairs to throw into the hamper.

As you pass through the kitchen and the bathroom, you can't help but linger in the doorway to your office. You sigh and realize it'll just be a computer room once again until you maybe, hopefully, find another work-from-home job. You stare at your monitor and keyboard and the desk chair you got to feel proud in for all of 3 days.

The box.

You almost forgot about the box.

You maneuver into your office in the dark with ease and pick up the box you had placed on the edge of your desk. The tape that holds the lid closed is easily picked away by your fingernails as you get it open and lift out a pair of...glasses? Sunglasses?

You turn them around in your hand as you let the box fall back onto the desk. They look...normal enough? Not really your style but somewhat stylish. You slip them on to get a feel of them perched on your nose and suddenly, instantly, your office glows.

There's a warmth in here that's equal to the warmth you feel when you get into your bed at the end of the day. Something that makes your heart feel lighter and more open; at ease without the weight of the world.

Bed.

You peel away from your office and trudge back up the stairs and hook a left into your bedroom.

Your bed.

She's glowing.

You don't understand it and yet, you do. You focus a little harder on that space you love so much even when it's stripped bare; the white mattress a stark parallel from the rest of the darkened room.

She materializes right in front of you with a smug teasing look on her soft curvaceous lips. You can only think of kissing them and what they would feel like against your own lips...your neck, the inside of your thigh...

It isn't until you hear a little creak from her that you look at her fully that you realize she's standing in the middle of your room naked.

Oh god.

The sheets.

"Oh...this is not how I thought our first meeting would go, Sugar..."

You don't know where to look, if you should look. You feel your face flush as you try to clear your throat. You try to bring your focus back on her lips and only her lips. Truly, she'll understand this was just a big misunderstanding.

"Give yourself some credit...meeting me for the first time? Striped bare just after...well...after you had your little burst of fun on top of me? Wasn't that nice? Me, holding you up and keeping you warm and safe while you just...oh...completely unraveled on me...god, Baby..."

You don't know what to say and if you should even say anything. You understand you're speaking to your bed but...

"Maybe I should give you my name first, Sweetness...it's Betty...use it next time...you...well..."

She eyes you head to toe before she puts a finger in her mouth and grins.

So much in safety at staring only at her lips.

"Betty? My...bed?"

"Mmhmm...you got it, Sugar...but, more than just your bed...especially now that you can see me...isn't that right, Pumpkin? You love looking at me...don't you?"

And that's your invitation to drag your gaze away from her lips and fully take her in; full-formed.

You almost feel yourself go faint at the sight of her.

Her curves continue away from her mouth and all your brain and body want to do is sink into her. Soft and plush and filled out in all the right places. Her hair is soft and the dusty rose colour of your pillow shams. She is quite literally looking at you with bedroom eyes and suddenly, you realize the purpose of the glasses you wear.

"Maybe you should get a little closer and finish what you started..."

"What?"

You finally find your voice as you totter over the edge; your right foot already daring to take a step closer to Betty.

She opens up her arms and god forbid you steal your eyes away from her breasts which look insanely soft and full. Your brain wants to say stuffed but you know that's more of a way to describe...

Oh.

Pillows.

She laughs heavy and breathy when she sees the way your face is flushed. Purposefully, teasingly, she pulls her shoulders back just enough so she could cup her breasts from the side and push them forwards, squishing them together. Betty uses her pointer finger of her right hand to curl towards herself; calling you over.

Your feet move as if on their own as you close the gap between you and Betty. She's biting her bottom lip and breathing heavily; chest heaving as she keeps her hands exactly where they've been. You just want to shove your face in between her breasts; much like all those times you've shoved your face down in between your pillows to scream or cry or...

Fuck.

When you felt like you had to muffle your screams and moans from the intensity of your orgasms; the way you've fingered and fucked yourself to oblivion. The way your clit became throbbing and swollen and sore to the touch. Sheets soaked and body completely wrecked.

"That's right, Baby...you know these very well...just like you know me very well and I know you...all the ways your body covers mine...grinding and humping and fucking. You're a wet, whiny little thing, aren't you? A little lonely but you get the job done, don't you?"

Her hands release from her breasts and you watch gravity do its beautiful job.

You're so close to Betty now and can sense warmth radiating from her and the cozy scent of fresh laundry. She's not stuffy at all; not smothering in the way that gives you anxiety but just the right about of swaddling that makes you feel secured.

And you feel very secure the second she wraps her arms around you and pulls you in for a tight hug.

Of course, you have no real way of getting out of where you have to put your head; your face. Betty basically bear hugs you against her breasts and you fall into them and find them even softer and plushier than your pillows. You moan against her skin and she giggles before she pulls you away from her embrace.

"I've been thinking of doing that for so long...you really do have a thing for...well...you really do love pillows, hm?"

You mumble incoherently under your breath and the only thing that stops you is the way Betty looks at you with a hunger in her half-lidded eyes you hadn't seen before.

"Oh, believe me...I've seen the types of videos and pictures you look at on your phone at night...you have a thing for big boobs. I get it. Good thing you got me and mine...I mean, whenever you want them to oh...I don't know...play or squeeze...lick or bite or suck..."

She lets the s in suck drag out and you feel that all-familiar pang between your legs; itching to get back into bed and fuck yourself silly. You can feel that you and Betty aren't quite there yet but god, does she love saying the dirtiest things to you regardless.

A shameless flirt.

Which makes sense; your bed does lure you in at all hours of the day to laze about and eventually turn to masturbation. She's a bad influence.

And you love it.

"You should take those glasses off now, Baby so you can get back into me...on me...against me...put some fresh sheets on to cover me up and finish. I know you weren't even close to being done...you can wet another set of sheets for me tonight, I don't mind..."

You eye her up and down once more; soaking in every inch of her so maybe, hopefully you can put her in your minds eye to help as a fantasy to get off to. You're sure it'll work with the way Betty looks and how she talks. Soft and alluring; a little mysterious and totally unfiltered. She's just as horny as you and maybe that's your doing. She is, your bed after all and, you do do lot of masturbating on top of her...under her? Inside of her?

Your hands shake as you reach for your glasses and take them off.

The glow disappears and you're left within the darkness of your plain, boring room.

Your bed is your bed now; four posters with a naked mattress.

And you want nothing more than to please Betty. You turn yourself around and head towards your closet to look for a fresh set of bed sheets to don Betty with now. She deserves fresh and clean; something that smells nice against her skin. She also deserves, as she's graciously reminded you, to be fucked on and against. Rolling your hips down into her plushness with your face down into her pillows and your ass up for her to see.

She deserves it all.

The comforts of rest.

And you? In this changed reality?

Deserve the sleepless nights with heat and wetness between your legs; soaking yourself over and over against with your fingers, your toys. The scrunched up sheets between your clit and folds.

You put your sheets on with rapid success before you haul up your comforter and pillows onto your bed, your Betty, once again. This time however, you strip completely before you get back into your bed completely naked. You reach over to gather up your toy you had placed on the night table minutes ago. The little toy hums to life on the strongest setting as you bring it down between your legs.

The way you fuck yourself this time around is a little more calculated in your movements. You grind down a little harder into your mattress and grab your pillows a little tighter. You let your sheets and comforter wrap around you and hold your legs all tangled. You make sure to moan and whine and pant as loud as you can in hopes that Betty is enjoying this just as much as you are.

[lilithschosen]

hanky panky

ships: Harper (Date Everything) x F!Reader, background Betty (Date Everything) x F!Reader (i can't stop myself ok) words: 4626 rating: E (NSFW) tags: smut, strap on sex, strap being referred to as a cock, voyeurism (.. your furniture is alive), strap sucking, breeding kink, size kink, Harper wants someone to want her!!!, Betty picks out the toy <3 summary: you lose a harness and run to the laundry room to find it already around Harper's hips. she tells you to go get something for it so she can cleanse the laundry room of Dirk's bad vibes since you helped them break up finally :) (ao3 link)

Somehow, in the throes of a deep cleaning of the bedroom, one of your strap on harnesses managed to disappear. You swear up and down you put it back after using it. 

Ben-Hwa was no help, saying they didn’t have to account for parts of themself when you were the one to last use it. 

The Hanks never even try to touch your sex toys, saying they were more than enough for one another and you. You pinch the bridge of their nose, shutting the closet door before Hank 3 could smoulder at you in hopes you’d change your tune.

Betty reminds you of the last time she saw it, smirking with a look down to her hips. You blush and wave her off, needing to find it before you get too carried away.

Then it hits you. 

You had to swap the sheets after your activities with Betty. Surely the harness was balled up in the bedding, meaning Harper would have it.

You bolt down the stairs, speeding to the laundry room. Drysdale and Washford stand, entranced with one another that they don’t even notice you. Dirk was gone, thankfully, and Harper was twirling a dirty sock around her finger before she turns to look at you. 

“Hey you,” she smiles, shoving the sock into the hamper next to her and brushing her hands on her dress, “What brings you to this part of the house?”

You return the smile, huffing from how fast you ran down the stairs. You bend over, grabbing your knees as you gulp down oxygen. 

“You ran all this way just to see little ol’ me?” 

You nod, shrugging, “Kinda?”

Harper pouts at the noncommittal answer. “What do you mean kinda? How does anyone “kinda” run down the stairs to “kinda” see someone?”

You stand, noting the way the vein in her forehead pulses. The same way it would when she’d argue with Dirk. 

“I’m missing something,” you say slowly, not wanting to argue with the redhead, “I wanted to know if you’ve seen it?”

The energy in the room that was beginning to brim with a crackling anger immediate changes as Harper smirks at you. 

You walked right into her trap.

“Oh, did you mean this?” 

She lifts her dress and you instinctively look away, not knowing what to expect. You had just confessed your feelings for Harper the other day and the two of you were taking it slow since she and Dirk broke up. You didn’t want to be too forward by leering at her as she raises her dress. 

You don’t see her lower it out of the corner of your eye, so you turn back to see what she was trying to show you.

Around her hips, under the dress, she has your harness on. You blush, mouth open as you stammer at her. She grins wickedly, the tip of her tongue poking out between her teeth, letting you stare at the empty harness fastened snug on her petite body. 

“Didn’t take you long to come find it,” she drops the hem of her dress, smoothing it before lifting her head up to look at you, “I snagged it from Drysdale before he could go on about it. No one needs their dramatics about what you do upstairs.”

Drysdale glares at her over Washford’s shoulder. He takes the man’s bicep and whispers something to him before exiting the laundry room all while he still glares. 

Harper waggles her fingers at him in a wave, smug at the fact you two have the room to yourselves. 

“I was hoping you’d lose a toy too,” she steps closer to you, her tongue running against the back of her teeth as her eyes drag up your body, “I haven’t been able to thank you for talking sense into me the other day. Dirkie- I mean Dirk, fucking sucks.”

You stand awkwardly next to her, eyes flicking between Harper and the open doorway to the kitchen. While the laundry room was empty, the kitchen was not. You blush, knowing full well that anything that could happen in here will be heard by everyone else. 

Harper brings your attention back to her by running the back of her fingers up your bare arm to the sleeve of your shirt. She wraps it around her pointer finger, sighing at you. 

“I remember this shirt,” she drags her hand across your shoulders and places her hand against your collarbones. “I like it better when it’s on the floor, honestly.”

Your eyes widen at how bold she was being and you want to respond, but the words barely come out coherent. Instead, you stammer again, making her chuckle. 

“Why don’t you let me help you,” she hooks her fingers into the collar of your shirt, pulling you flush against her body. You’re taller than she is by a good couple of inches, making her look up at you. “Go get something I can fit in the harness. Think of it as a way to purge Dirk’s bullshit from in here.”

You’re not too keen on how often she’s bringing up her ex-boyfriend, but you’re definitely interested in whatever plan she has.

“Y-yeah, sure,” you manage to say. Her eyes flick up from your lips, locking with yours, “I’ll be right back.”

Harper lifts on her tiptoes to ghost her lips over yours. You feel the heat of her breath over them before she grins. “Good.”

As you turn away from her, she swats you on the ass. You stumble forward, face red as you manage to clap your barefoot against the kitchen floor. Kopi and Daisuke look up from the table, only Kopi giving you a small smile and wave before going back to their task. 

You clear your throat, cheeks still hot, but straighten yourself and try to stroll as nonchalantly as possible. 

Arms chirps at you as you move around her, smacking her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles. You brush it off, smiling briefly to Stella as you climb up the stairs with a slow purpose. 

You keep remembering the sight of your harness around Harper’s hips and how she revealed it. The way she innocently lifted her dress, the hunger in her eyes. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, you exhale all at once. You spot Betty and Mateo chatting on the bed as you enter your room. 

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Betty grins, tucking a thick curl of her pink hair behind her ear as she stands up to approach you. “Have you found it?” 

Your eyes widen, moving from Betty’s perfect face to Mateo behind her. He smiles at you politely, waving. 

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble. You lean in closer to Betty, taking her arm to have her move in as well. “Harper has it.” 

Betty bites her lip, looking over you. “Has it? Like, still?” 

You nod, swallowing hard. 

“Oh, baby,” Betty cups your cheek, breathing out an amused chuckle, “I bet you're about to make her really happy.” 

You somehow turn even redder at the teasing. You turn away from Betty’s hand, trying to hide as you spin around and reach for the bedside table. 

“Maybe I should pick for you. That way when she's fucking you, you’ll think of me too.” 

Betty’s hands slip down your waist, her nails scratching down your thighs. You feel her pressing herself against your backside and you melt. 

“Oh, no,” Betty laughs, patting your thighs before stepping back, “I'm not stealing you away from Harper. Whatever that girl has planned, it's good.” 

She steps around you and reaches into the bedside table drawer. She rummages for a beat, audibly humming to herself until she grabs something with a quiet noise of elation. 

Betty pulls out a thick, pink toy. Something you've always had but somehow matched the colour of Betty’s hair. It was bigger than the other toys you have and you only bought it to test your limits.

“Does this seem good enough?” 

You clench your thighs together as best as you can before you nod again. “Thanks, Betty.” 

You hold your hand out to take the toy from Betty, but she shakes her head. 

She raises the toy up to her lips, eyes locked with yours, and presses a kiss to the tip of the toy. You whimper at the sight of Betty’s beautiful, plump lips held against the silicone. 

It makes you ache. 

She hands it to you after a moment with a wink. “For when it's buried deep inside of you, remember it's with love.” 

Your stomach flips, heart fluttering as you take the toy from Betty. Your fingers graze hers and she smirks at you. She takes in your appearance, how flustered you are holding the thick toy. Your fingers wrap around it and you lick your lips absentmindedly. 

“Don’t keep her waiting, sugar,” Betty muses, brushing the hair out of your face, “I don’t want her thinking I got you distracted.”

Mateo laughs, “No one needs Harper’s wrath now that she and Dirk finally split.”

You sheepishly nod at him and offer a quick nod of goodbye before looking back to Betty. She winks and presses her palm to her lips before holding it out toward you, blowing it at you.

Finally, you head out of the bedroom and scamper back down the stairs. You try to hide the toy you’re holding by clutching it to your chest with both hands wrapped around it. Koa gives an honest belly laugh as he sees you run by, hands on his hips while he shakes his head. Scandalabra gasps dramatically at the sight of you, holding his hand to his chest with a wide grin on his face before he zips off to shout what he had just seen.

The kitchen is just as packed as it was when you left, but everyone deliberately keeps you out of their vision. Freddy and Mitchell’s conversation picks up in volume, Mitchell turning to keep his back to you as you walk by. Daisuke has his eyes closed with his dishes in front of him, meditating with slow inhales while Kopi rubs at a mug with her forefinger. Beverly whistles, staring at the ceiling with her cheeks pink. 

It was a bit obvious that everyone knew what was about to go down in the laundry room, and it makes you painfully aware of how wet you are because of it. Voyeurism wasn’t a new thing for you, especially now with so many people in your house now. Especially with everything Sophia has introduced you to. 

Hell, you’ve slept with a couple of people in the kitchen before. Especially Beverly, you let her do things to you on the kitchen table. 

Harper leans back against the counter, her elbows behind her and her eyes firmly on the doorway. The moment you cross the threshold, she rushes to you. She fists your shirt and groans through her teeth, quickly shifting to pin you against the wall. 

“About goddamn time,” she rasps, “I thought you got preoccupied with someone else up there.”

The flame of anger in her eyes simmers down and you see that hunger in them again. She grabs you by the collar and tugs you down to her level, smashing her lips against yours with an all encompassing kiss. You close your eyes, shoulders dropping as you relax and kiss her back. 

She consumes you, dominating the kiss with a moan as you open your mouth to let her lick into it. Her tongue massages against yours while her hands relax against your shirt, her palms splaying against your abdomen. 

Harper bites your bottom lip, tugging it back before letting go of it with a grin. You whimper, eyes opening as you feel her hand over yours, taking the toy from you. 

She rolls her eyes at the look of it, “I bet Betty picked this one for you, huh?” 

You nod. 

“Figures.” 

She hikes her dress up again and slips the thick toy into the o-ring on the harness expertly. You watch with rapt attention, a little impressed at how easily she handles it with one hand. 

Harper holds the toy at the base, whistling low at the sight while she looks down. 

“You wanna get it ready for me, sweetheart?” she asks, looking back up at you with a cheeky, perfect smile, “I’ll hold your hair back, too.”

Your eyes widen at the thought and nod dumbly, mouth already falling open envisioning the feel of it. Harper’s nose crinkles with an added intensity to the grin. She turns away from you and hops up onto the counter she was previous leaning on. She lifts her dress up above the harness, bundling as much as she can in her hand before she tucks it under her thigh.

The pink toy bobbles intimidatingly, the weighted sway of it attached to Harper’s hips has your mouth watering. 

Harper extends a hand out, batting her eyelashes at you. “Ready for me?”

You take her hand, letting her guide you over to her. You reach out and touch her bare thigh, fingertips slipping up to the edge of the harness while your other hand pulls out of Harper’s. You lean forward until the toy is eye level with you. 

Harper scoops up your hair with a loose grip, letting you get comfortable. You stick your tongue out, looking up at her expectantly. She clicks her tongue in surprise while her other hand grips the base of the toy against her hips. 

She tilts the silicone toy up and lets it drop back down, slapping the underside of the dildo onto your tongue with a wet smack. She hums, and repeats the action again. You know for certain everyone in the kitchen can hear it. 

Harper stops after a couple more times of slapping the toy against your tongue, now letting it rest there. You don’t hesitate, immediately wrapping your lips around the pink dildo. You make sure to keep looking up at Harper as you swallow down half of the length without a second thought, not even a blink. 

“Ho-ly fuck,” she gasps, voice thrumming with excitement, “I wasn’t expecting you to take that. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby.”

You moan at the praise, relaxing your throat as you try to take more of the toy. You want to take it all, but you have to pace yourself. You’ve never been able to get all of it into your throat, despite Sophia’s orders or Betty’s gentle coos. 

You manage another fourth of the toy and your eyes water. You pull your head back off, dislodging the toy from your throat with a gargle. You roll your jaw back and forth while Harper watches you.

You grip the toy at the base, holding it firmly against Harper’s cunt underneath it and she inhales a sharp breath through her nose. Her grip in your hair tightens. 

“I want you to fuck my face, Harper.”

You hear someone choke, coughing loud before trying to muffle the sound from the kitchen and you blush. Yet, you don’t stop yourself from sticking your tongue out and licking a stripe from underneath the head of the toy up. 

Taking the toy into your mouth entirely again, you keep your hand around the base of the shaft and relax. The toy disappears into your mouth inch by inch. You ignore the ache of your jaw, the burn in your throat, and an overwhelming amount of saliva dribbling out around the toy as you take more. 

Before you know it, the tip of your nose brushes against the fabric of the harness. You blink back the tears, and your shock, as you look up at Harper above you. 

“You fucking did it, baby.” 

She holds you there for a second, watching as the tears spill over and run down your cheeks then lets you sputter off of it. You don’t fully remove the toy, instead your lips tighten around the tip and you scratch your nails down her thigh. 

Harper gets the hint with her tongue poking into her cheek. She rocks her hips into your mouth, forcing the toy in and out. She moans at the friction the harness provides against her clit, jaw clenching at it. 

“You’re so sloppy with it, aren’t you?” she groans. She reaches down to swipe at the string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth, smearing it across your face. “Getting it nice and wet before I ruin you for everyone else to hear.”

She thrusts up with a quick snap, her backside lifting from the counter before slamming down with a thud. You gag on the toy, but remain still enough to keep sucking on it. 

“That’s it, baby,” she praises. You keep your head lower than before, letting her fuck your face with an even pace. She makes sure to not force too deep into your throat, but enough that she can be stimulated with each thrust. “I bet you’re dripping right now, both your mouth and your cunt all wet for me.”

You moan around the toy, only for Harper to pull you off of it by your hair. The muffled sound is then ripped from your throat, moaning so loud it catches you off guard. You clamp your mouth shut with a hand over it only for Harper to yank it from you. 

“I want them to hear you,” Harper snarls, jumping down from the counter, “I want everyone in this fucking house to hear what I can do to you.”

She shoves you forward, bending you over the counter she was just sat on. The dress falls, catching on the toy as she moves to stand behind you. 

Harper grips your hips and presses against you, the toy slips between your thighs and you shiver. 

“Harper, please.” 

You clench your thighs around the toy, desperate to feel her. She fucks the toy back and forth, holding you still as drags the length of it against your clothed core. You whine, needing more. 

“So pitiful, aren’t you?” Harper smacks your ass, soothing the spot just as fast as she struck you, “You need this, don’t you? Need me?”

You nod, holding your face against the counter top as you look behind you. Harper’s eyes connect with yours, her fingers hooking over your waistband. 

“Tell me.”

You see hurt flash in her eyes, her eyebrows pulling in before she can control herself. You swallow hard, panting while she drags the toy against you again. 

“I need you so bad, Harper,” you mutter, “I need you to fuck me.”

The corner of her mouth pulls up in a lopsided smile, tugging down your pants. She stops them around your ass. 

“More.”

You whine again, pouting. “Harper, please! I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you.”

She grins now, tipping her head back to let the hamper lid slide off. She pulls your pants and underwear down just enough to let gravity do the rest of the work, having them pool around your ankles. 

“That’s right, baby,” she coos, grabbing the toy with a hand while she palms at your ass cheek. She rubs her thumb out toward your cunt, prying your folds apart with an obscene sound from how wet you are. “You fuckin’ need me.” 

Harper guides the toy to your entrance, slipping it into you partially before pulling it out. She rubs it through your folds, nudging the tip against your clit and you moan through your clenched teeth. 

She moves it back up to your entrance and thrusts into you, filling you to the brim with a single motion. You feel your cunt stretch around the toy to take it all, a familiar ache of pain while the tip rubs into your cervix. 

You remember how Betty kissed the tip of the toy, clenching around it with a whimper. 

Harper tries to draw the toy out and grunts, eyes rolling into her head. “You’re so tight, sweetheart. My big cock is almost too much for you, isn’t it?”

You only grumble in response, rocking back against her with the toy. She gasps, fingernails digging into your bare hips as she bottoms out. 

“Fu-uck, Harper,” you cry out. The toy slips into you again, your walls spasm around it to try and keep it still so you can adjust to it. “So good, so deep. Need you, need more.”

Harper moans at your words, cheeks turning pink. She can't fight back the smile she has on her face from them. Having you needing her, needing only her at this moment, filled her with a vigor she had never experienced before.

You try to relax your walls as best as you can around such a thick toy, letting Harper ease it out of you until you clench around the bulbous tip. 

“Greedy thing,” she taps your hips, drumming her fingers against you, “I’m going to split you in half.”

She thrusts the toy in again, drawing it back out slowly and you cry out. The feeling of being filled so quickly and slowly emptied had your knees weak. 

Harper keeps fucking you like that, snapping her hips into yours while inching the silicone toy out of you at a glacial pace. 

It was maddening and addictive, rendering you a blubbering mess with your palms splayed out against the countertop. 

She keeps it up, rocking into you with an even force and an extra bounce once she can grind herself against the harness. She starts to speed up her thrusts, fucking the toy in and out of you with equal speeds. 

You mewl at her movements, tongue lolling out while you take every inch of her. 

“Is this what Betty does?” she asks, mockingly, punctuating the question with a rough thrust and it makes you yelp. “Or Sophia? How about Dasha, or Beverly? Hm? Winnifred wouldn’t fuck you like this, but maybe River would while she watches?”

You can’t respond, unable to speak a word let alone a coherent sentence. Harper’s thrusts become faster and harder, drilling the thick toy in and out in a way that has you almost cross-eyed. 

“I bet I’m the only one that has fucked you like this.”

She’s not wrong. 

Every lover you’ve taken has a different way of pleasing you. Some have a stronger approach, some are teases, some are direct, some are soft. They’re all unique, and you love all of them and what they do to you. 

She stares at you, waiting for a response. You nod, eyes rolling into your head as she fucks you. 

Harper leans over your bent body, hand snaking between your legs to rub at your swollen and neglected clit. You scream as she touches it, hips dropping onto the counter as you lose the feeling in your legs. 

You hear someone drop something in the kitchen and a gasp of shock, one you think came from Beverly. You throb around Harper’s cock thinking about how Beverly will be after hearing all of this when you talk to her next.

She picks you back up, holding you firmly with a hand on your hips while she continues to rub your clit with intense, determined circles. She keeps fucking you, more precise thrusts in to keep you filled while she grinds into the harness as well. 

“I wanna cum in you,” she pants, holding her cheek against your back, focusing on her movements, “Fill you with me in ways no one else has. I bet you’d fucking let me, too.” 

The thought of Harper filling you with her cum has you weak. You moan, lifting your hips as much as you can to let her sink in as deep as she can manage. 

“I bet you’d let me fucking breed you,” she snarls, pulling your shirt up with her canine teeth, “You want that, don’t you? Want me to breed you?”

You mewl out a whine, nodding. Your cheek rubs into the pool of your own saliva on the counter. “P-please!”

Harper lifts her head up from your back in surprise. Her eyes twinkle with an adoration you haven’t seen before, hearing you able to beg despite how fucked out you were. 

Your eyes remain locked as she fucks you, neither of you able to look anywhere else than at each other. Her lower lip quivers, thrusts growing twitchy and haphazard as her eyes unfocus and she succumbs to her pleasure. 

“Fucking take it,” she croaks, slamming her hips into yours with a choked breath, “Take my fucking cum.”

You orgasm along with her, mouth open with a silent scream as she crumbles on top of you. You can almost feel what she was describing, the warmth of her love filling you along with the toy. Your body spasms as one orgasm blurs into another with a low, guttural groan escaping from your throat. 

“Jesus!” 

Harper’s head snaps to the doorway, seeing Dirk standing there with his hand over his eyes. She stands still, frozen in place while you blink hard. The second orgasm was abruptly ended at the sound of Dirk’s voice, sobering you up immediately.

You smack your lips together, lifting from the counter to clean your face up from the drool. 

“Hey, Dirk,” you find yourself slurring, but able to speak, “We’re a bit busy right now. Can you come back later?”

He shouts, throwing his hands in the air as he turns quickly to leave. “Un-fucking-believable!”

Harper gasps, clasping her hands together as she swoons at you. Dirk grunts to himself as he stomps out of the laundry room, leaving you both alone. Or, as alone as you can be with the kitchen on the other side of the wall. 

She rocks into you, grazing the tip of the toy into your cervix again. You whimper while gripping the countertop and you raise your hips for more. 

“You're dangerous, you know.” 

Harper bites her lip, palming at your ass cheeks to spread you apart. She watches with a groan at how sinful your cunt looks stretched out around her pink, silicone cock. 

“Not the first time I've been told that,” you chuckle, bouncing backwards onto the toy, “I'm happy to hear it's a consistent comment though.” 

Harper mumbles under her breath, frowning. She digs her nails into your ass, forgetting herself. 

You wince, hissing at the bright pain. Then it hits you like a brick to the jaw. 

Harper needed to be needed. She needed to know she was wanted and appreciated in all the ways Dirk never did. 

“You know,” you begin, startling Harper out of her downward spiral in her thoughts. She flattens her fingers against your ass, rubbing at the crescent-shaped indents she left behind. “You can stay like this until you think it takes.” 

Harper’s head tilts in confusion and your breath catches at how cute she looks in the moment. You smile at her, bashful. 

“You filled me, silly,” you tease, “I've never had someone cum in me before, you're the first. How long do you think it'll be ‘til it takes?” 

You tighten your internal muscles around the toy, holding Harper deep inside your pussy. She gapes at you, eyes wide while her heart thuds in her chest. 

“I- uh,” she stammers, “As long as you want me, sweetheart.” 

You moan, “I don't plan to be anywhere else for a while. Round two?” 

Harper’s posture straightens, eyes bright with excitement. Her fingers wrap around your hips in the same way they were moments ago. 

“You sure?” 

You grin back at her. “I need so much more of you, Harper. All of you.”

[diamonddaze01]

back off

Pairing: lc x reader | wc: 1.1k au: criminal minds au | warnings: mentions of people getting hurt a/n: based on an ask from my 101 drabble prompt game! // a continuation of [3:27 AM] and a part of my BAU!SVT universe

The bar hummed with noise—laughter, clinking glasses, music that was just a little too loud. It wasn’t the kind of place you liked to unwind, but after the team wrapped up a long, grueling case, this was tradition. Even you couldn’t escape it.

You sat at the bar nursing your drink, half-listening to the others joking in a nearby booth. The warm glow of the overhead lights didn’t do much to soften the dark circles under everyone’s eyes, a testament to sleepless nights spent hunting monsters. You exhaled, trying to sink into the moment, into normalcy.

And then Lee Chan slid onto the stool beside you.

“Enjoying your brooding session?” His voice cut through your thoughts like a familiar, unwelcome blade.

You didn’t even look at him. “It’s called relaxing. You should try it sometime.”

His laugh came easily, soft but edged with that signature cockiness that set your teeth on edge. “I’m perfectly relaxed. Just keeping an eye on you, though.”

You turned to him at that, finally meeting his gaze. He was annoyingly casual, one arm slung over the back of his chair, his drink in the other hand. The dim light caught on his jawline, sharp and annoyingly perfect, while his ever-present smirk made your blood boil.

“I don’t need babysitting, Chan,” you said flatly.

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Didn’t say you did.”

You rolled your eyes, already used to his habit of inserting himself into your space. “I’m not a suspect, Chan. You can stop profiling me.”

He leaned against the bar, his grin widening. “I’m not profiling you. I’m profiling him.”

You frowned, glancing at him. “What are you talking about?”

You glanced at him again, narrowing your eyes. He wasn’t looking at you, though. His attention was somewhere else, and when you followed his line of sight, you spotted him: a guy at the far end of the bar, staring at you.

The stranger wasn’t exactly subtle. His eyes flicked over you like he was already building a story in his mind, his glass of whiskey nearly forgotten in his hand.

“That guy at the bar keeps staring at you,” Chan said casually, dragging your attention back to him. He didn’t even bother looking at you when he said it, like this was just another observation, no different from commenting on the weather.

You frowned. “And?”

“And,” he said, dragging out the word, “I don’t trust his type. Too obvious. He’s practically telegraphing his intentions.”

You snorted, setting your glass down. “And what exactly are his intentions, profiler?”

Chan’s eyes flicked to you, his expression softening just slightly, though the cocky smirk remained. “He wants to buy you a drink, tell you you’re too good for this line of work, and maybe try to take you home. Classic.”

You rolled your eyes again, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “And you care because…?”

His smirk faltered for just a second, like he hadn’t expected you to call him out. But he recovered quickly, his grin sharper now, more deliberate. “I don’t care,” he said, though the edge in his voice told a different story. “ I’m not in the mood to get involved in a bar fight when he inevitably strikes out and blames me for your lack of interest.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “You think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

He shrugged, finishing his drink. “Only because I’m right.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, the man at the bar made his move. He slid off his stool and started weaving through the crowd toward you.

Chan straightened, the shift so subtle you might not have noticed if you weren’t watching him so closely. He didn’t tense, exactly, but his body language changed, sharpening like a blade.

“Chan,” you warned, but he didn’t look at you.

“Relax. I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice lower, steadier.

The guy stopped a few feet away, his smile too eager as he looked you over. “Hey,” he said, his voice too loud over the din of the bar. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Before you could answer, Chan turned to him, a lazy grin on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “She’s good, thanks,” he said smoothly, his tone polite but firm.

The guy blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, I didn’t realize you two were…”

“We are,” Chan said easily, leaning back in his stool but staying close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. His tone was casual, but his posture screamed stay away.

The guy hesitated, clearly debating whether to argue, but Chan’s grin hardened just enough to make him think twice. Muttering an apology, the man retreated, disappearing back into the crowd.

You turned to Chan, your jaw tight. “What the hell was that?”

Chan raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “That was me saving you from a bad night.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you snapped, but your voice lacked the bite you intended.

His smirk softened, just a little, into something almost sincere. “You didn’t have to.”

Your heart stumbled in your chest, but you shoved the feeling down, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re welcome,” he shot back, leaning closer, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear. “But if it makes you feel better, next time I’ll let you deal with it yourself.”

You glared at him, but he was already pulling back, finishing the last of his drink like he hadn’t just turned your world slightly upside down. And the worst part? You didn’t tell him to leave.

[syncogon]

[theokusgallery]

I'm making up for being mean to Janus and Virgil yesterday

[tfh-arts]

It must be an honor to be created in another's stead image

[lokicraft]

Self indulgent idea about task force 141 rescuing a wrongly-kidnapped scientist/researcher reader. Gender neutral reader, implied American reader implied violence and torture, implications about the reader looking young (I imagine the reader being between 20 and 30 years old). I see it as future tf141xreader, but feel free to imagine otherwise and/or take this idea and run with it as you please. MDNI.

————

Imagine you are a government researcher. Technically a government employee but you are pretty low on the ladder, just starting out at a research laboratory on a small military base. You are so excited to start working with your supervisor/PI, a very influential scientist who has their fingers in a lot of research pies (some more secret than others).

But you have nothing to do with the secret stuff. You’re more interested in environmental research (of which the military does have to pay at least a little bit of attention to, so you work with what you get).

You’re getting out of the lab late one evening, having to stay even after your PI left to clean glassware (your least favorite task). You lock the door to the research building and walk to your car, only to see someone else parked next to you. The hood of their car is open and they look distressed. You don’t recognize them but it’s not like you know everyone on base. So when they ask you for a jump start you agree and start rooting around your car to pop the hood. You just got your hand around that pesky lever when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and everything goes dark.

————

You wake up in a dingy concrete room with your arms and legs tied to an equally dingy chair. You are shocked, panicking and in pain, but through the ringing in your ears you hear shouting from outside the room.

“What do you mean that’s not Dr. Scaffer?” An angry accented voice shouts.

“It was bad intel!” Another voice insists, same accent as far as your fuzzy brain can register, “we did not get any physical description, only that they would be the last one out!”

“A head research scientist with top secret clearance won’t look like a kid who just got out of college!” You hear a muffled bang - your heart stops beating in your chest - but the voice continues, dismissive, “I have to do everything myself.”

He enters the room.

————

Two hours later, not that you can really keep track, you are left alone again. Significantly more injured from what you just went through (your brain cannot even ponder the word “torture” through the unceasing static of your thoughts), you realize that you are going to die. Whoever kidnapped you grabbed the wrong person, and unless they want to know about the water quality of the watershed around base you don’t have any information they want. You are no use as a hostage, and you are going to die. You can only hope it will be quick and painless—

You can’t breathe, you were never good at handling stress.

At least when you’re unconscious it doesn’t hurt anymore.

————

Recovering VIPs is well within their capabilities, Gaz thought to himself as he recounted the brief they were given a short two hours ago. But usually if it was a researcher they were rescuing then their area of expertise would be weapons technology, or infectious diseases, or something that’s not water chemistry. It’s not his job to judge, it’s his job to get you back home where you belong. However the judgmental voice in the back of his mind can’t help but kick in, remembering the profile photo they were provided of you.

“They’re quite a cutie, no?”

Gaz is knocked out of his thoughts when Soap catches up to him, both fully geared up and heading to airstrip. Wheels up is in 15 minutes, and Gaz is sure their Captain and Lieutenant  are already in the transport. While Ghost is probably just sitting and “brooding” as Gaz likes to call it, he gives Price a 50/50 on being on the phone with Laswell. Their Captain probably wants to know how a young researcher got kidnapped from an American military base only to end up as a hostage in Russia. Hell, Laswell probably wants to know that too.

“Time ta go save us a bonnie researcher!” Soap proclaims picking up the pace and rushing in front of Gaz. It’s obvious Johnny shares the same thoughts as Kyle when it comes to your appearance, only one is better at keeping those thoughts to themselves.

“Yeah let’s make sure we get them back alive” Gaz responds, his sharp mind working overtime to calculate how long your captors will keep you alive once realizing you are not a spring of top secret information nor a high profile bargaining chip.

“Of course we will mate,” Soap declares, his sober tone almost catching Gaz off guard, “with LT back on the roster we’re at full strength again, n’one left behind.”

Gaz agrees with the sentiment, and taps Soap on the chest lightly as they approach the transport.

“No one left behind”

————

Thanks so much for reading, this is my first time writing something like this so I’m still trying to get the character’s ‘voices’ right and all that. If you decide to build off this idea please tag me! I appreciate y’all 💚

[loniceravine]

To fulfill her linguificafion requirement, Galinda enrolls in a poetry writing class. She has always found the great romance poems... well, romantic. She knows plenty of words, so she thought it'd be easy to become a great romance poet herself. Turns out, it's rather difficult when the object of your affections is dense as a... beautiful as a... altogether quite impossible to describe.

She starts simple:

roses are red

violets are blue

you are sweet Oz, this thesaurus isn't helpful at all green

and I really want to kiss you! 💋

Elphaba saves each and every piece Galinda is bold enough to share. She never thought anyone would be writing love poems about her so she cherishes each one (even if they’re bad).

[mykingdomforapen]

It would be easier for Lu Guang to simply swallow it down and bear it. But it wouldn’t be right. 

In truth, nothing felt right. Heels of his hands pressed against his swollen, dry eyes, a crick in his neck, his heart trapped in his throat. One side of his head felt like it was being pulverized, the pain of the migraine stirring up trouble in his stomach. And Cheng Xiaoshi’s dulcet tones in his ear, his pleas no longer endearing. 

Lu Guang squeezed his eyes shut at Cheng Xiaoshi’s insistence. 

“Lu Guang, come on,” he said urgently. “We need to finish this.” 

This was a pile of photographs lined up across their coffee table, marked in chronological order, detailing the lifespan of a relationship between two cousins. The boys had grown up together like twins, Qiao Ling had told them when she outlined the case for them, but then grew apart after one of the cousins developed a gambling addiction. The last straw was when he stole money from his cousin’s mother to feed the insatiable beast, and the cousin cut ties. 

He suspects that his cousin also stole their grandmother’s jade, Qiao Ling told Lu Guang in preparation for the case. He wants us to help confirm if that’s true, and if so–if he sold it. 

Which would have been straightforward enough, if the gambling cousin was still alive. Unfortunately, he wasn’t. 

Hence, the ten plus photographs on the living room coffee table. 

Lu Guang shifted his hands from his eyes to his temples, giving them a sorry massage that only made him more miserable. He had been poring through photos for hours now, each of them a photo uploaded to the gamblin cousin’s cloud that the client had managed to pull, dating from five years ago–when the grandmother’s jewelry had gone missing–to five months ago, when the cousin had been found dead in his tiny apartment reeking of alcohol and debt. He scoured every interaction the cousin had with their elderly grandmother for any sign of theft, while Cheng Xiaoshi dived into any photo where he could root around the cousin’s apartment for proof. 

Even after five hours straight, they could neither confirm nor deny anything. The instant noodles that Qiao Ling had brought over to them had grown cold and untouched on the side. Lu Guang’s scalp scalded with the migraine, and Cheng Xiaoshi stank heavily of eucalyptus oil smeared under his nose to assuage the nausea that came from back-to-back diving. Lu Guang could smell its medicinal chill when Cheng Xiaoshi came too close to his ear. 

“Can you please back off?” Lu Guang said through gritted teeth.

Cheng Xiaoshi huffed as he threw himself backwards on the chair. Lu Guang avoided looking anywhere in his direction as he unscrewed a bottle of soy milk to ease his chapped throat. Cheng XIaoshi fared none better, but he had the self-perception of a goldfish to mask it. 

“We’re so close, though,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “There were addresses to jewelry shops on his Baidu Maps search history. If we can find a photo that happened either right before or right after that one, I’m sure I can find more–” 

“Cheng Xiaoshi, we’ve been at this for almost six hours,” Lu Guang groaned. “Taking a break for at least thirty minutes won’t make a difference.” 

Cheng Xiaoshi huffed until his bangs flopped carelessly across his forehead. Lu Guang wiped his lips with the back of his hand, gagging slightly. 

“What if I forget?” said Cheng Xiaoshi.

Lu Guang exhaled deeply, teeth clenched and nostrils flaring so that it came more as the exasperated hiss of a steamer. 

“Then write it down, idiot,” he snapped. “Am I your mother?” 

Cheng Xiaoshi’s jaw clenched instinctively, just as Lu Guang’s did the same–for a moment, hesitating, ready to bite down on the words before they escaped his mouth. But they had punched their way through his teeth nonetheless, and at the end of the day, Lu Guang would have let them. Even if he knew that, while he never commented on it, it stung Cheng Xiaoshi. 

Because Lu Guang had said the same the first time they had this argument. 

-

The first time they had this argument, Lu Guang was still only twenty years old. He and Cheng Xiaoshi muddled through their abilities with curiosity and bravado. The only thing Lu Guang was afraid of was drowning, and it was abstract. 

The first time, Lu Guang grumbled at Cheng Xiaoshi. I’m tired, asshole, he said. Can’t you give me a break? Cheng Xiaoshi said something tone deaf–but you don’t even have to dive, you can just sit there and tell me what to do, it’s easy for you–and at that, Lu Guang stomped up to the bedroom, muttering it’s useless trying to argue with you to himself as he locked the door behind him. He burrowed himself angrily in the bedsheets and didn’t emerge until Cheng Xiaoshi cooked an entire apology dinner. 

I’m sorry, Cheng Xiaoshi said quietly when Lu Guang stuffed his mouths with softened carrots. Do you–do you want to talk about it? 

He said it with his back straight, even though his spine was shaking. Arguments rarely ended well in his experience–usually with a fist to the cheek, or a door slammed in his face while all the neighbors looked disapprovingly at him with full assurance that he was in the wrong. For Cheng Xiaoshi to be able to talk to Lu Guang took a bravery and a faith that he had to fight for, that he had to learn with blood, sweat, and tears to get through this life. 

Yeah, Lu Guang mumbled. I do, and they had finally laid their abilities on the table next to the pot of pork shoulder soup and small bowls of dipping sauce. This was new to the both of them, their magic of a great price, and they were learning their breaking points together. Lu Guang shared his needs to be met, Cheng Xiaoshi his fears of being of no help to others, opening their hearts to make space to grow, and at the end when Cheng Xiaoshi asked Are we okay now? Lu Guang said, Even better. 

So Lu Guang couldn’t grin and bear it, as much as he hated this frustration, this headache, the thought of tossing and turning on the top bunk with a heavy, hurting heart. He and Cheng Xiaoshi needed this moment where they grew so that the other could take up more space in their lives. Cheng Xiaoshi needed to learn that he would be loved even if he was upsetting. Lu Guang needed to learn to be honest. They were precious truths that would have carried them through the rest of their lives, if Cheng Xiaoshi had lived long enough for it. 

-

Except this was the second time Lu Guang was having this argument. Everything should be the same, but he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t because Cheng Xiaoshi was dead, and yet alive for now. Because Cheng Xiaoshi’s mission-driven stubbornness was what got him killed, and Lu Guang now could see the all bloodred flags leading up to September. Because Lu Guang could now name the anxiety that drove Cheng Xiaoshi into doing things now, before the wait of them consumed him alive, but Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t yet and Lu Guang had to keep it to himself. Because he and Cheng Xiaoshi were plunging into the photos of a dead man over and over again, and every time Cheng Xiaoshi said something honest about it, Lu Guang had to swallow down how sick it made him feel. It’s so messed up, Lu Guang, Cheng Xiaoshi had said, that this guy has been dead for half a year, and I feel his heart beating in my chest. Lu Guang buried his face in his hands and tried not to cry, even when Cheng Xiaoshi was not here to see it. 

“Then write it down, idiot,” Lu Guang said, only realising belatedly he never said the last word the first time round. “Am I your mother?” 

Cheng Xiaoshi flinched. Lu Guang didn’t remember that. He thought Cheng Xiaoshi only gritted his teeth. There was a gleam in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes that could either be tears or nausea, but Lu Guang knew better than to point it out. Any time Lu Guang pointed out where Cheng Xiaoshi was falling apart at the seams, he would dismiss them like they meant nothing, like they weren’t the reason Lu Guang couldn’t sleep at night, terrified of morning. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered. 

“I’m tired, asshole!” Lu Guang snapped. He didn’t need a script for this. He felt sick to his stomach. He felt like nothing was ever going to be right, and he didn’t know how to make it better. He didn’t know what to do. “Can’t you give me a break?” 

“But you don’t even have to dive!” Cheng Xiaoshi protested. “You can just sit there and tell me what to do, it’s easy for you!” 

Was it easy? Was it easy to watch Cheng Xiaoshi throw himself into the past over and over again and shrug off Lu Guang’s concern as unnecessary, until he ended up on the wrong side of the bullet? To try again and again to look for what went wrong in the past, obsessing over each detail and torn butterfly wing until he scrounged for the right answer? To feel old and young at once, helpless and culpable simultaneously? To constantly lie, even though he was supposed to have grown to be honest? 

Go upstairs, his memory urged him. Lock the door behind you. Go. 

But something fiercer, louder than his memory took hold of him, balling itself into a fiery pit in his throat and scalding its way out of him. 

“It’s easy for me?” Lu Guang choked out. “Is it? I’m the one who has to try and figure out how to fix everything! I have to fix everything, and you never think twice!” 

Lu Guang felt the tears bully their way to his lashes, no matter how much he tried to fight them back. He stared at Cheng Xiaoshi until his vision blurred with sickness and fury, the boy he was supposed to save and couldn’t help but fail. I don’t know what to do, his soul cried out. I’m the only one who can fix this and I don’t even know what to do. 

“Useless!” Lu Guang hurled. 

He didn’t know to whom he was shouting it, but he knew as soon as it landed that he aimed it at the wrong place. Cheng Xiaoshi froze, breath stuck midway up his throat, eyes wide as if he had been shot in the stomach, and Lu Guang knew that look too well. He went as still as stone, scarcely breathing as Lu Guang’s voice settled like the remains of an earthquake, leaving behind silent wreckage. 

Lu Guang caught up with his breath, dizzy with the catharsis, until its tingling numbness gave way to sudden realization. This was not how any of this was supposed to go.  

Cheng Xiaoshi blinked rapidly, looking away–the tightening of his jaw could not mask the way his lips shook. 

“Forget it, then,” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered. “Let’s just–yeah. Break. Sounds good.” 

He stood up from the seat and left the room quickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. He hurried out the front door of the shop, the twinkling of the door bell the only thing keeping Lu Guang company as he was left behind in the sunroom.

[pretendingtobeaperson]

In the foundry, straight up "los camping!" it ,and by "it" haha, well, let's just say, My pesinos

[ragnarockz]

😌 Maya on an Important Business Call (that's been dragging out) to get funding for a movie but also fucking reader at the same time, trying to see if they'll fall apart before the call does 🙂‍↕️

The way I woke up at 1 am due to a thunderstorm shaking my mf house and then falling back asleep at 3 am and then waking back up at 6 am horndogged out of my mind THIS IS FINE, LC. THIS. IS. FINE.

Hello? Yes, this is Maya Mason here to get you W E T 🥵💧📱

"Hold on for a fucking second, let me put you on speaker..."

You hear Maya's nail tap her phone screen and then drop her phone down beside you on the bed. You sneak a glance at the screen and realize it's one of the top execs on the line. His picture is in a little circle with his number on the screen.

Is she fucking insane? You think to yourself as you push your face down into the mattress. You cannot let this guy know you're also technically on the phone call with them.

You know this is something she realized the second she answered her phone while her cock was deep inside of you. You thought she was being rude at first; half of the conversation filling the bedroom as she snapped her hips forward and got you face down into her bed. But then you quickly came to realize that this was something that got her off. She had to try and keep you silent while she fucked you and you, had to keep up your end of the deal as you gave her what she wanted AND had to keep yourself quiet.

It was no easy feat because she knew how loud you got and you knew how much she loved hearing you. Half of the time she goaded you into being louder; trying to see just how loud you could scream and beg for more. This was definitely one of those times and she was maybe even pushing you beyond your limits.

"Oh...mhm....no, yeah, I think you would have to re-schedule because if you don't, you're going to blow this whole fucking promotional event..."

Your brain tried to chug along and listen to her voice; that voice that was mean and rude and judgemental. That voice that made you instantly wet every time you heard it. Maya had caught on to that pretty fast and made sure she herself talked you through almost everything she did with you.

Maya wanted her voice to haunt you in your dreams and wake you up wet.

"Well, then you're fucking stupid if you decide to go with someone else! Who the fuck else is going to give you what you want for that stupid price you're offering? Are you kidding me? I wouldn't even drop that on...fuck, anything!"

You grabbed onto her silk sheets to keep yourself upright; not wanting to slouch too much forward as you had finally got the angle right. She was hitting upwards slightly; the tip of her cock hitting right into the spongy softness that was going to throw you over the edge. You wanted so bad to come for her and show her how good you were being while she was on an important business call.

You could throw a wrench in right now, you thought to yourself as you drag your face to its side. The phone call was still happening.

"...Mommy..."

You whispered just loud enough for her to hear and for her to instantly stop pounding into you. You bit your lip and wait for the punishment to come. Both ends of the phone call go silent.

"...Maya?...Are you still there?"

"Of course I'm still fucking here! Do you want me to send you that PDF or not?"

You let out an exhale in relief. Maybe he didn't hear what you had said or maybe, he was trying not to embarrass himself over hearing something that didn't belong in the conversation.

You wriggled your hips back, asking her with your body to keep going, to keep fucking. You suddenly felt the sharp nails of her left hand dig into your ass cheek as a silent warning to keep your mouth shut.

"Mommy?....Keep..going..."

Another whisper escapes your parted lips and onto the bed sheets once more. You make sure you were louder this time, a little more clearer. You feel her nails sink in deeper and without a doubt break your soft skin.

You moan in response, no longer caring about the man on the other end of the phone. He was the one who called and interrupted the two of you. He's the one who wasn't listening to Maya's suggestion about his shitty movie. She was the one who answered mid-fuck; her cock fully sheathed inside of you as she picked up that fucking phone mid thrust.

You were obviously the innocent party in all of this; as innocent as you could be as you moan and rock your hips back and try to fuck yourself.

Maya had a choice. Hang up and admit defeat or prove you wrong. She exhaled loudly and straightened up her spine. The grip on your body got harder, tighter. She was holding you still and taking back the control she had let slip away as her concentration dispersed to the phone call instead of focusing on you.

And god, did she want nothing more than to fuck you until you couldn't walk properly afterwards; stumbling around her mansion in the Hills.

She smirked and bent over to lay on top of your back; her mouth as close as she could get to your head so you could hear her speak in a deep, hushed tone.

"You want to keep playing these games with Mommy, you better give it your all then, Baby..."

You feel the pressure release on your spine as she pushes herself back up and away from you; straightening up and shifting herself around. You can feel her cock moving inside of you and not in the way that feels good. She's adjusting; she's trying to make you as uncomfortable as she can. Maya wants the asshole on the other end of the phone hooked on for every single second as she fucks you. She wants to see just how long he'll keep the phone call going before he hangs up and blames it on some technical error.

"Mommy wants to hear that sweet voice of yours...those sweet moans as I fuck this gorgeous pussy of yours...this pussy that belongs to me."

No whispers, no hushed tones. She's speaking as clear as she was with the guy on the phone and you let out a strangled moan almost instantaneously. You have no idea if the guy on the phone is still there or if he's hung up. You can't even see her phone anymore.

Not with the way she has you pushing your face so hard and so deep into her bed that all you see are the stars bursting from behind your eyelids as you feel the constant contractions you give her around her cock. You feel as you breach your growing arousal and the sensation of warmth filling you; surrounding her. The way your hot cum drips down your inner thighs.

You hear a faint crackle of something and then a laugh; her laugh. She's laughing as she ruts into you and makes you lose your balance, falling forward. A loud groan escapes your mouth and you hear the dial tone beep out as the call ends.

It's your cue to get louder, wilder. Hands trying to reach back to grab at her; any part of her. You want so badly to touch her but she won't let you.

Maya is in control; always in control.

She always gets the last word.

[fever-project]

For the 20th anniversary of The Minish Cap, I drew my MC Link interacting with some other MC Links from other Links Meet AUs(basically)! I was not ready for this anniversary so I was rushing. Anyhoo, under the cut are the Links featured:

Mirrored Links - Mini - My Link! I uh have to rewrite the ML story lol so uh don’t read it. He’s grumpy 24/7, 4 feet tall at 19 years old, and would definitely hate being with other versions of himself lol.

Limited Hero - Minish By @limited-hero - We got nothing on this guy except for like 2 drawings, and I can tell he’s brimming with energy and joy. Very energetic, the type of person Mini hates to be around :D

There isn’t a name for this uh this is Felix Lineup of Links(👍👍👍) - Sprout By @clowns0up-felix - Adorable. Love them. Very pinchable cheeks. I was originally going to draw Sprout kicking Mini in the shins(cause he deserves it lol), but I did not have the time for that.

Links Converge - Cori By @linksconverge - Head patssss. I love him he’s so cute! All of the MC Links are cute tho…but I like him :) He gets head pats :)) because I didn’t know what else to do with him :)))

[psychopomp-namine]

cheng weimin and shao yuanyuan abandoning cheng xiaoshi at the tender age of 8 years old gets even more fucked up when you think about how they know about the photo diving ability and that bahati is a school related to abilities

like okay listen. one of you has the ability to go back in time by clapping your hands while looking at a photo. presumably you know that abilities are passed on to children. they can activate at any time, perhaps during traumatic moments like with the twins. one of you went to teach at a school for superpowered kids so presumably you know how this works.

and you think you can just abandon a kid with unactivated powers?? leave him with trauma ripe for awakening abilities? what if it wasn't the bridon photo that triggered it huh? what if cheng xiaoshi, at the tender age of 8, cried so hard wondering about his parents and then he accidentally claps himself into a random photo (IN A PHOTO STUDIO! A SHOP ABOUT PHOTOS!! WHERE HE LIVES!!!) with no one to guide him? what if he gets stuck there??? as a kid???

like okay yeah lu guang discovered his ability at 7 years old but apparently someone was there to help him. and also his ability doesn't like, harm him physically. he's not possessing someone or anything. so we're all just lucky cheng xiaoshi never discovered his powers until he was an adult because like. if he discovered that as a kid, lonely as he was?? he'd be so fucked. oh my god. just thinking about it gets me heated like what the fuck cheng weimin. shao yuanyuan. what the fuck. what if your 8 year old kid with abandonment issues got stuck possessing some random person and he doesn't know what's happening. he doesn't know anything. his parents left him and he's not even himself anymore and he's not home and how does he fix this, how does he go back. the horror of it all.