#just repeating that while I rock back and forth in a ball

[cardigan-jam]

I was doing so well like avoiding getting overwhelmed by us politics news but my evil brain was like scroll through the tag on tumblr and well now I'm stressed even more tf out than my baseline has been since Monday oh like I just hate all this bullshit like it's all so blatantly stupid and evil and I just can't comprehend people doing this and agreeing with it

[wileys-russo]

Could I possibly request a blurb for Fresa? Young fresa walking up to ale and just standing in front of her (monster inc. boo style if you catch my drift) and just saying 'hug'. Alexia just picks her up and she buries into Alexia's neck and falls asleep, and Alexia just keeps doing whatever she was doing

Totally okay if no but might be cute x

part of the void universe hugs II a.putellas

now a moody teenager you might not always want the suffocatingly tight bear hugs your sisters ambushed you with, but much younger you were the polar opposite, demanding affection from them whenever you wanted.

alexia in particular was a favorite of yours for obvious reasons, the main being she hardly ever said no.

"hug!" you chirped, holding your arms out expectantly as the sixteen year old looked down at you in amusement. your sister squatting down to your height you exhaled happily as she hugged you tightly, only as she tried to let go and stand up, she couldn't shake you off.

"fres, nena i am trying to help mami make dinner." your sister laughed, attempting to peel you off as you grunted unhappily and clung on even tighter.

"hug." you repeated firmly, the footballer giving in with a sigh and hauling you up, sitting you on her hip and holding you tightly with one arm as she stirred with the other.

"you are a very good hugger pequeña." the older girl smiled, kissing your cheek as your head rested tiredly on your shoulder, eli returning from taking a phone call a few minutes later to find you dead asleep on your sisters hip.

"ale. hug!" the girl glanced up hearing your little footsteps thunder into her room, sat at her desk trying to study she hardly had time to open her mouth before you were stood expectantly beside her with your arms held up.

"hermana i need to study. can you go give mami or alba a hug?" the girl tried to shoo you away gently, but a firm shake of your head and you were wiggling your way beneath her desk.

alexia scooted her chair back a little as you tried to climb up and onto it with her, tiny three year old limbs not quite long enough to let you achieve it. "fresa." alexia couldn't help but chuckle at your persistence.

"hug." you held your arms up and cracking at the adorable pout on your face your sister scooted her chair back more and hauled you up, sitting you on her knee as you clung onto her happily and she shook her head.

"like a little leech." the girl chuckled under her breath, pen poking at your forehead as you looked up at her happily before squeezing her tightly, arms remaining as wound around her taller body as you could as you wiggled to get comfortable.

and when eli came to check in if alexia needed anything a half an hour later, there you were curled up asleep on her knee.

"alexia!" the girl looked up, smile fading as alba burst through the kitchen doors followed by a four year old hot on her heels, scowl on alba's face as her older sister raised an eyebrow. "que?" the girl asked, her friends sat around the table playing a card game.

"fresa is driving me crazy! she will not listen to me." alba groaned dragging her hands down her face. "watch." alba demanded wagging a finger. "fresa, bed time." alba ordered as you shook your head.

"no!" you grinned happily, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, your pyjamas on backwards and red clutched tightly in your hand.

"she was supposed to be asleep an hour ago alba. you promised!" alexia warned with a glare, having made a deal with the younger girl to do her laundry for a week if she watched over you while alexia had friends over and eli was at work for the night.

"i tried! it is like she does the opposite of what i say. fresa, sit!" alba demanded pointing down at you as you just smiled innocently up at her. "fresa, do not sit down." alba ordered next, alexia's friends snickering as you sat down on the floor.

"she is not a dog estúpida!" alexia threw a dice at her younger sister with a glare who ducked. "you put her to bed then!" alba scowled, stomping angrily out of the kitchen, door swinging shut behind her.

"alba we had a deal!" "alexia i don't care!"

"oye, and what are you doing fresita?" alexia noticed you trying to drag a stool toward the fridge, her friends all cooing over how cute you were as alexia stood and towered over you.

"hungry." you shrugged, whining as your sister plucked the stool out of reach. "bed time." she warned, pushing your head playfully and holding out her hand for you to take, waving for her friends to skip her turn.

"hug!" you demanded, holding your arms up as alexia happily hauled you up into her own arms, hanging you off her hip as you hugged her tightly and she made her way toward your room.

"bed time diablillo." your sister chuckled, pulling your covers back and trying to drop you into bed, unable to break the iron clad you grip you had going around her neck, hanging off of her like a little monkey.

"fres, no. hermana you are going to sleep!" alexia warned a little stricter, grunting as she tried to pry you away but you whined unhappily and still clung onto her.

"aye dios mio. fresita i have friends over, you are too little to be up this late. mami will be upset!" she tried to remind as you shook your head, fists still balled into her top as she groaned.

"hug." you grunted, wrapping your legs around her for extra grip as your sister sighed, knowing what she should do but that the realities of you not just getting up and following after her once she yanked you off and put you to bed were slim anyway.

"bien. you win little monito!" your sister tugged playfully on your ears and turned around, heading back out of your room and toward the kitchen again.

she dismissed her friends questioning looks with a flick of her wrist, taking her seat again as you got comfortable on her lap, all of the other girls cooing and awwing as to be expected within a few minutes you were dead asleep in your sisters arms.

and when eli got home later that night thats exactly how she found you, clinging on tightly to your eldest sister whose long legs and arms hung awkwardly off the edges of your tiny kid sized mattress, with you curled up happily on top of her like a cat.

you and your hugs.

[ipegchangbin]

doggystyling sub! skz...

thats it 🤗.

💗 fucking skz doggystyle

🏷️ sub!skz, dom!reader, reader has a cock.

— bang chan

he shies away, one hand covering his asshole, one hand on his face. chan isn’t used to this, not yet, but he should be. he cleaned himself well, so well in fact that once you enter him, your cock slips right inside. 

but the pain sparks within chan. it’s a pain so slight that he takes pleasure from it, the first he’s ever felt, and he lets you take that virginity from him.

you coo and ask for reassurance with the sweetest curl in your tone, a stark contrast with the way you roughly manhandle his wide hips. chan doesn’t say anything, so you pat his ass and watch it jiggle. you ask again, voice much slower, words much clearer: chan finally nods and lets you violate him.

it’s so excruciatingly slow at first. you wiggle your hips to let your cock slide further in, then further out. the lube drips in then pushes back out with every clench of his ass. he almost wants to trap your cock inside, but every single time he tightens, you stretch him further with an unforgiving force.

he groans so loud. he moans your name and grows more and more delirious by the minute.

who can blame him when you’re so rough yet sweet with it. you pull your cock back then shove it in, never giving him the chance to rest: though you talk him through it, whispering praises, telling him “you’re doing so well,” letting him know that he’s taking every inch of you with so much love. it almost feels like he isn’t being drilled into.

he starts bouncing his fat asscheeks against his own will, letting his body move while his mind chips away from the pleasure. they say it’s rare to enjoy anal for the first time, but chan is instantly hooked on it, your cock, and you.

he can’t stop it. he’s instantly addicted, and he wants to do this forever.

— minho

it’s in. it’s all the way in, and yet, you barely move at all. minho wiggles his pretty ass to adjust to the length, but after another second passes and you simply kneel there, he whimpers ever so softly.

“i can’t always be doing all the work.” you pretend to yawn, secretly relishing in the betrayed look on his face.

minho takes a heavy breath before he attempts to move. the feeling of being full is an obsession he’s never willing to admit, but he loves the pain that comes along with being filled over and over. he tries his best not to let his hazy mind stop him as he wiggles his ass again.

“is that all you got?” you tease.

all he does is snarl, not at you, but to himself. the frustration starts settling in since he has to work for his own orgasm despite being on his hands and knees.

reluctantly, minho pulls away, feeling the significant absence in his ass before slamming his ass back against yours. he shivers at his own actions. biting his lip, he refuses to let any sinful noises out, but you notice and disallow him.

you tease his mouth open with your thumb. “just keep going like that.” at your words, he repeats his movements, pulling back and then slamming his ass right on your cock. “atta boy.”

his cock hardens so quick until he isn’t aware of his own precum spilling between his thick thighs. he simply picks up his pace, rocking his body back and forth until he’s fully fucking himself on you. he can hear his own wet sounds and he gets shy, letting his sweaty bangs cover his eyes, refusing to even look at his own work. 

you laugh and spank his ass once, holding it firmly in place after. minho whines, almost falling over.

“my turn?” you ask. he nods with a moan and allows you to ravish his hole as much as you want.

— changbin

ass right in front of your face, hole licked fresh with your spit dripping all the way down to his balls, changbin shivers as he waits for you to take him from behind. he watches the mirror in anticipation, seeing your reflection pump your cock between his spanked-red asscheeks just for a little tease.

he refuses to say anything. he simply waits. he trembles, but he waits, listening to you giggle in amusement.

“good boys can take it, right?” you ask, and changbin nods in response. he pushes his curly bangs away from his face just to see your reflection better in the mirror. then you grab his full hips, both pliable fat and toned muscle jiggling under your hands, making you all the more excited.

you slam your hips onto changbin’s, greeting his hole with a violent entrance. he lets out a loud whine, struggling to hold himself up as his back arches towards you.

changbin allows himself to feel the pleasure, staring right into the mirror as a smirk forms across your face. he can’t help his own high pitched and lovely whimpers as he listens to the slick in his hole coating your cock.

your hips don’t stop going forward, your cock sinking deeper and deeper into him, shocking him as he takes your tip, the middle of your shaft, all the way to the base; you see his widened eyes and hung jaw as voices of pleasure fill the room.

“bin.” you bring a hand to hold him by his chin, forcing him to stare at you through the mirror. “say thank you.”

changbin doesn’t hesitate. “thank you, th-thank you so much,” his sweet voice falters as you pull back, only to slam your cock into him once again, and again, and again, and again.

his cock chubs up fast, full balls moving along with his beautiful body as he rocks back and forth with each thrust. he doesn’t stop whining and saying “thank you” like the good boy you trained him to be.

he holds onto the mirror tightly for balance. every thrust punches a whine out of him. he almost can’t control himself anymore, brain blanking by the second, and he can’t thank you enough for it.

— hyunjin

hyunjin’s usually a princess. he’s so pretty with it, getting everything he wants and wishes from you. when it’s your turn to want his ass, he’s nervous at first, but he complies anyway.

he hesitates. his body stiffens. he’s incredibly tensed up while flipped on his knees and palms. 

“relax love,” you say, kissing the skin between his ears and neck. like soothing a kitten, you scratch the nape of his neck. he purrs, feeling much more comfortable under your hands.

you ease him with soothing circles around his shoulders and massages by his hips. he moans silently, lovingly sweet voice slowly turning into sharp groans as he feels it enter him.

the girth of your cock feels like hell inside his plush walls but the velvet texture sends you to heaven. you don’t stop shushing his moans, calming him by running your fingers all around his sensitive skin. hyunjin loves it, adjusting well to your length as you don’t stop singing him praises, worshipping his princess body.

you spend a while fucking him close, bodies inching closer and then away, arching backs to connect sweat and heat. his own cock grows hard as you pump it along with your strokes in his ass. you pepper him in kisses, sniff his hair, pamper him with compliments. 

with every word and sweet act of affection, he melts more and more under you. 

that is, until he stiffens again. this time, he doesn’t seem hesitant, instead drowned deep in pleasure yet something holds him back. it concerns you slightly. 

you hold him by the chin and kiss the side of his lips, prompting him to speak.

“please, fuck me harder,” he pants, and he smiles when you immediately comply with a loving thrust of your hips.

— han

the moment he’s flipped over, he knows he’s doomed. he could crawl away, clutch the headboard for safety, or even kick you — he’s scared, but he does none of that. han complies obediently to your rough commands, dropping his palms down onto the mattress. 

you pay him no mercy, grabbing his waist with nails dug into his skin, scratching him lightly as you pull him towards you. it punches a delicious yelp out of his throat in the process.

only a few grunts from you serve as a warning before you shove yourself into jisung.

your cock forces him open. his entire body trembles. he grabs fistfuls of the sheets beneath him to ground himself, but the deeper you go in his ass, the blurrier his mind gets. and just as soon as he thinks he can’t take any more, you thrust up violently to push his limit.

“fuck! no, i can’t—” he lies. he knows he can take it. “you’re so big!”

“oh really?” you smirk and spank his asscheeks. the skin stings a pinkish red before you squish it with your fingers. 

the subsequent pull back leaves his ass gaping. you pull all the way until he’s empty, giving him one full second to breathe, only to immediately thrust into him again. this time, you don’t still in place, you don’t hug jisung’s waist. your hands simply clamp themselves onto his asscheeks as you drill mercilessly into him. you don’t care for pacing.

his ass clenches deliciously and you can feel every nerve in his system pop. he’s drooling, dazed, almost completely zoned out from the pleasure. every time you pull out, his ass gapes before being stretched even more. jisung feels less and less pain, the addiction to your cock washing over him as he keeps his ass up against your hips.

— felix

he can’t see a thing.

blindfolded, felix waits anxiously as the sounds of your shuffling and the click of a bottle opening pass by his ears. your hums tickle his eardrums in the same way your fingers tease his entrance, the cold lube greeting his lower half with full chills. the blush on his cheeks, just below the blindfold, glows redder.

something prods lightly at his entrance. “it’s just my finger,” you clarify, poking it around his asshole. felix pants, readying himself for just a little bit of a stretch.

then, he feels it enter.

it almost immediately widens his ass not even an inch in. it doesn’t feel like just one finger. it feels like two, no, three — around three inches deep, his hole is already spread out. whatever it is, it almost hurts, stretching him so much that his rim tries not to clench. felix resists complaining despite his confusion, instead moaning your name desperately.

“oh, i’m sorry,” he feels your words right against his back. “i got a little too excited.”

he feels gentle sparks across the skin of his back all the way down to his behind. light scratches from your fingernails trace every contour of his lean body, poking every beauty mark, massaging every inch of him until they settle on the sides of his petite waist.

you still in place for a while, kissing the backs of his ears and neck. then, when he least expects it, you push your hips further into his limit. he chokes on a moan, only to whine over and over as you swiftly pull back, only to push your hips until your cock is all the way back inside him.

he can’t see where you connect but he listens to the sinful sounds of skin slapping against skin. he feels his hole ache as it stretches and clenches at your length. weirdly enough, he doesn���t mind being deceived.

— seungmin

he’s far too excited. he doesn’t dread this one bit. seungmin has nothing to worry about except for one thing: it makes him cum too fast.

he won’t admit that though, not even while his dick is up, red, and throbbing harshly as you’re pounding into him. he loves the pace, loves it too much: so much that he begs constantly to go harder and faster.

you tease him sometimes, going slower instead, only to laugh and continue. something about the way you play with him gets him going, feeling less like he has something up his ass. he feels every inch of your cock prodding at his walls and making him feel endless ecstasy. 

and dear god does it make him want to cum.

eventually, his pleasure turns into slight pain as he refrains from cumming, holding his dick — not to pump it, but to deny himself the release. you take notice and ask him if he needs any help, but he doesn’t hear you the first time.

you grab ahold of his handsome short hair to get his attention.

“hey. need a hand or are you gonna hold it in?” you don’t hold his cock, but you hold his wrist. you don’t care that it’s dangerously close to his length. “come on minnie, you’ve come so far.”

he closes his eyes and refuses to act like you’re even there. if he acknowledges it, he’ll explode, so he keeps his cock caged in his palm while your ass fucks him to high heaven. 

seungmin feels his orgasm closing in, the familiar heat building in his core while you ram your length in and out of his ass. his precum leaks on the sheets, making a mess as his petite ass jiggles from your sheer force.

“you won’t cum until i do,” you tease, “i’ll go so deep inside your ass. so deep that you’ll cum so hard.”

and he doesn’t intent to finish early from your words, but unfortunately, he squirts on the sheets when you’ve barely even finished.

— jeongin

drunk on the feeling, jeongin holds onto the wall he’s pinned against. his legs shake like that of a trembling deer, unable to keep himself up from your unforgiving thrusts. he moans endlessly. he clutches onto the rough texture of the wall in pure desperation to ground himself.

“my innie. oh how sweet you look.”

something ignites in jeongin as he enjoys more and more of your cock. you drive your length further into him, ruining him relentlessly as his legs fail to support him. 

his knee gives out slightly, but you catch him just in time before he falls.

“can’t take any more?”

jeongin wordlessly shakes his head yes, but he really means that he still handle the pounding. you know it isn’t a lie, you know he handles you so well in the same way you’re literally holding him up.

not another second passes and you take his hint, holding his waist and arching his body forward so he can hold himself better. he almost becomes pliant in your arms, and you’re still deep inside his ass. the friction and the shifting of your bodies makes him whimper in your hold, feeling all of it inside him. once adjusted, you give him a reassuring pat on his asscheek. 

with the altered position, you can dig deeper into his hole, hitting his sweetest spot over and over. 

the ecstasy worsens as you hit him deeper and deeper, your own sounds of pleasure furthering jeongin into a drunken and dazed out state. 

he holds on for dear life, tearing up, with one hand reaching back for you. you intertwine your fingers between his with a smile. 

[unsuperingyournatural]

meet the family i

Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

series masterlist

The sun is low, casting everything in soft, liquid gold. The grill crackles. Music drifts lazily from a Bluetooth speaker set near the garden wall, and kids tear barefoot through the grass, chasing a soccer ball that keeps veering into folding chairs.

Pedro stands off to the side, talking to an uncle—or pretending to. His attention is entirely on you.

You’re seated in a plastic lawn chair beside a few of his relatives, your plate balanced carefully on your knees. You’re smiling, nodding along to the conversation, answering when you can, laughing when you miss a word but catch the spirit of the joke anyway. Your Spanish is broken, halting, but you’re trying. And no one here seems to mind.

You’d been nervous about this.

He’d felt it during the flight, in the quiet fidget of your fingers, in how long you stared out the window after landing. You’d made a few jokes, but he saw right through them. What if I say something wrong? What if they think I’m rude? You’d been scared of not fitting in, of being too quiet, too foreign. He told you the truth—that they’d love you. That you didn’t have to prove a thing.

Still, when you arrived, he kept close. Steered conversations. Translated where he could. His hand found the small of your back more than once.

That was hours ago.

Now you’re halfway through your meal, mid-conversation, when one of the younger children—a curly-haired girl no older than three—wanders up to you with juice on her chin and a toy dragging behind her.

Pedro watches from a distance as she pauses in front of you, studies you for a second... then promptly climbs right into your lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You freeze. So does he.

Then you carefully set your plate on the table beside you, brushing crumbs from your lap, instinctively adjusting the child as she settles in against you. She starts talking right away, rambling toddler-Spanish like she’s known you forever. You tilt your head, listening closely, repeating a word here and there, nodding with focus. She shifts again and tucks her head under your chin, content. And without even realizing it, you start gently rocking back and forth, your arms curled securely around her.

Pedro just stands there, watching.

And he feels it again. That flicker.

He’s seen the signs. The softness in your eyes during films or the occasional commercial, whenever a scene touched on mothers and children in particular. The way you’d go quiet after. Thoughtful. Once, he saw your lips part like you wanted to say something, then close again.

He’d noticed. And ignored it.

Because by then, he was already in too deep.

When you finally asked him—Do you ever think about having kids?—he told you the truth.

No. Not ever.

And after that, you’d gone still. Not angry, not distant. Just quiet. He felt the shift. It scared him. Because he knew how much you deserved whatever you wanted. How fully. And if part of that ever meant a child of your own, a family, he would never keep you from it. Even if it meant losing you.

Then, a few days later, you were curled on his couch with your knees tucked beneath you, arms looped around his middle as a movie flickered on. And you said it simply, not as a compromise or a sacrifice, but as something you’d already made peace with.

“I always wanted a little girl,” you said gently. “She lived in my head for a long time. I thought maybe one day I’d be lucky enough to have her. And for a while, not having her felt like a void. Like something unfinished. I won’t pretend I don’t still think about it sometimes. I do.”

You paused, your voice softening.

“But somewhere along the way, I stopped feeling like something was missing. It just... faded. I made peace with it. It’s not sadness anymore, it’s just a truth I’ve learned to live with.”

You looked at him then, not with grief, but with quiet strength.

“Would I have loved to see a little girl with your eyes, your smile? Absolutely. I think you’d make a beautiful dad. I’d love to see you with her, dancing in the kitchen, telling her stories, making her laugh. But the life we have? It’s not missing anything.”

He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. There were no words for the kind of emotion that gripped him in that moment. All he could do was hold you closer.

Now, here you are. A child pressed against your chest, small arms around your neck, your hand resting lightly on her back. You’re quiet, still swaying. And the way you hold her, the calm in your body, the way the little girl fits against you like it’s always been that way... it makes his chest ache.

Not for himself.

For you.

Because there’s something about the image that gets to him. A quiet tug, small and sharp. And in that moment, he lets himself feel it. Just for a breath. Because he sees it clearly—you would have been a wonderful mom. The kind who listens closely, who loves without conditions, who makes space for joy even when no one's watching.

And then the little girl pulls back and says something, giggly and low, too quick for Pedro to catch. But you smile, soft and warm, and answer her in gentle Spanish. You help her down to her feet, take her hand, and let her lead you away from the chairs as the relatives you’d been chatting with watch you go.

He watches you go, something tender tugging deep beneath the surface. And in that quiet moment, he releases the ache. Not because it disappears, but because he no longer questions what either of you have chosen. When he sees you like this—steady and smiling—he understands exactly what you meant. That you’ve already found your peace. And somehow, that gives him his own.

Later, he catches sight of you being good-naturedly heckled by a group of his teenage nephews, one of them dramatically challenging you to a video game rematch. You end up surrounded by laughter and smack talk and glowing screens, their teasing turning to shocked groans as you wipe the floor with them. Pedro can’t help the grin that pulls at his mouth, pride blooming warm in his chest as he watches you hold your own like it’s nothing. You grin, triumphant, basking in the noise and chaos like you were born for it.

How did I get this lucky?

Because it’s not just that you fit into his life. You elevate it. You bring ease to the chaos, laughter to the in-between, and a kind of light that makes everything else feel less heavy. And standing there watching you, Pedro feels it settle in his chest. Not loud, not sudden, but steady. This isn’t luck, he thinks. It’s something deeper. Like the universe gave him more than he ever dared to ask for.

And somehow, it’s you.

[jarofstyles]

21. “Go and lock the door for me.  I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.”

meanH would kill this.

mwah 😚 to you and your stories

FUCK YES LETS DO IT!!!!

Patreon

Warnings- Mean Dom!H... Fratrry

------

Y/N knew it was a bad idea to go back up to his room. He had been badgering her at each party for a repeat of their sex a month back, and for 3 weekends in a row he was making it his personal mission to get her to repeat the process.

It fueled her ego to know that she was that good, that he wasted his time at the parties to follow her around and tempt her. A game of cat and mouse, a sensual back and forth. He'd cornered her in the hallway just 4 days ago as she was leaving the lecture hall, pulling them into an alcove and teased her about her leggings. They were flared and tight, no secret to her that they flattered her well. Secretly, she knew she'd pass him in the hallway and wanted him to look.

Her reservations were simply because he was a bit of a dick. Cocky and arrogant and all the things she shouldn't like, but it sent heat between her thighs when he gripped her chin and kissed her hard and deep, reminiscent of the kiss he'd given her in the dingy bathroom while she sat on the countertop with his prick pounding into her, the music muffling her whimpers.

Of course she wanted a repeat. No one had made her orgasm, not like that. For as cocky as he was, he had a right to be. Fucking her with that hat sitting backwards on his head and that pretentious old rock shirt, getting down on his knees mid fuck to taste her- that had thrown her for a loop. He was mean, which worked out in her favor considering she liked it. His hand around her throat and the filth that left his mouth. He'd made her see stars not once, but twice. Shaky knees as she left, despite his furrowed brow asking her to stay.

She didn't obviously, and he'd been chasing her since. It must mean he held similar sentiments to her, found her to be extremely compatible- to the point of scaring off other men. That had done it for her tonight. What had been meant to be a fight about him following her around had turned into her sat in his lap with his stupid fucking hat knocked off on the ground and her hands in his hair, her bandage dress pulled up to her hips as she rocked on his lap. He tasted like mint and cheap beer, but she didn't mind when he kissed her like he couldn't breathe without her tongue in his mouth.

Breaking apart from her, he held the back of her neck as he pulled her to look at his face. "You want this?" He murmured, slipping his thumb under her lip to clean up her smudged lipstick. "Want me to fuck you like the pretty slut you are?"

Y/N knew she was pathetic, nodding wildly as she tried to reconnect their lips. He wasn't done yet, though. "Good. Made it to my room this time, and you're not gonna run off on me after we finish once. Been Makin' me chase you around because you've got some golden pussy and it's been making me crazy. One time isn't going to be enough for me." He warned, making her melt. His voice had an edge of threat to it that only made her hotter, her clit swollen as she still rubbed up against his jeans. "You sure you're okay with this?" His tone softened a bit as he looked at her face. Despite being a dickhead he'd cared a lot about consent both times they'd fucked around.

"Yes- Yes, I really want it. Please." In the morning she was going to regret being so needy, so whiny. Giving him more fuel to feed his ego. But right now, she craved what only he seemed capable of giving her.

His swollen lips curled up in a smirk, humming in his throat. “Go and lock the door for me.  I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.” He sent her off, watching her on wobbly legs to flick the lock on his door. Peeling off his jeans, he kicked them to the side and stood expectantly as she made her way back to him. "There we are. Looks like you've got enough thought in that pretty little head to follow instructions." His hand came up and gripped her cheeks, making her lips pout out before dipping his head down to rest his forehead against hers. "Lets hope you keep that up. Know you get a bit dumb when you cum." He placed a sloppy kiss to her pouted lips before releasing her face.

She never imagined anyone talking to her this way would make her that horny, that melty and soft, wanting to get on her knees and listen him, but it did. He knew how to coax her, this near stranger. He pulled the dress off of her form, cursing under his breath as he pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her. "Insane body, y'know that? Fucking mental." Her breasts were bare, as they usually were in outfits like this. His fingers ran down the valley of her chest, past her belly button and the waistband of her stupid thong. "Did you know you were going to give into me tonight? Couldn't handle a vibrator one more time?" He clicked his tongue. "Needed to be fucked until you're a begging mess? Didn't even do half of what I wanted t'do to you last time." His fingers tugged on the flimsy panties, tugging them down her legs. She let him. All she could do was nod.

It was like her mouth and brain weren't connected with him. All she wanted to do was say yes, please, more.

"Dunno why you fought me so hard when you know how good we feel together... But you're not going to be able to hobble out of here when m'done with you. So..." He grabbed her phone and placed it in her hand. "Let your friends know you're with me, you're safe, you've got a ride home tomorrow. Or not." His lips kissed sloppily over her breasts before he licked the right nipple. "Maybe you'll come to your senses and stay the weekend, let me do all the filthy things you want. Deprived, needy whore like you would probably love that."

She typed with shaking fingers, pausing when he sucked her nipple into his hot, wet mouth- only for him to pull back with his teeth grazing the swollen bud. "Not dumb for me already, baby..." He clicked his tongue in faux disappointment. "S'pathetic. Type out the message while I play with your pretty tits, and then I'll give you what you want."

[bloodibambiidoll]

You’ll Never Be A Burden

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: When you can’t get out of bed, answer your phone, or shake the feeling of hopelessness your boyfriend is there to reassure you that he will always be there for you no matter what. WK: 1.6k moodboard

Warnings: Talk of mental illness, depression, feeling unloved/unworthy of love, not being able to get out of bed, insomnia, food mention, hurt/comfort, Eddie being the sweetest sweetie. Just all around this is centered around mental illness and how it feels to be too depressed to get out of bed. Please let me know if I missed any. Also I wrote this in one sitting so there’s probably typos. 18+MDNI

A/N: I don’t specifically mention a certain mental illness but for me this is how it feels when I’m having a BPD episode. So for me this symbolizes borderline depression but it can apply to any type of depression or mental low. I’ve been really going through it lately, so I just harnessed how I feel into writing this and it was very therapeutic. I wish Eddie could come hold me.

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been laying in bed in between awake and asleep at this point. A few hours? A day? Two? All you know is that the clock on your nightstand reads 2:48AM and you have been trying to force your brain to shut off since it read 8PM. You tried everything to calm the war raging inside your mind. You took so many deep breaths at this point you lost count, you pulled all the blankets over your head and tightened your body into the smallest ball you possibly could, you rocked back and forth while you repeated your mantra of “you’re okay” to yourself over and over again. But no matter what you did you couldn’t stop the negative thoughts from swimming around inside you.

You hated when you got like this. Overcome by this feeling of hopelessness. The feeling of shame. Loneliness. Not being able to shake the feeling as if you’re a burden to everyone around you. So you isolate yourself. Not wanting to drag anyone down with your negativity, not wanting to lash out at the people who are just trying to help you, not being able to bear the feeling of being alone in a room full of people.

Your friends had all texted and called you, social media notifications and voicemails piling up. Not even being able to muster up the energy to pick up the phone and respond to the one person you knew would make you feel better. So instead you thought of him. The way his beautiful eyes lit up when a smile spread across his lips. The way it felt to have his arms around you, his smell, his soothing voice. It’s what kept you going on days like this. Him.

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the phone. To ask him to come hold you. You were embarrassed, embarrassed of the disaster your house has become, embarrassed of your unbrushed teeth and messy hair, the pajama pants that felt like they were stuck to your body. You didn’t want him to see you like this. He’s only ever seen you like this once, and he was amazing, perfect even. But to this day you beat yourself up over those days he took care of you, washed you, held you while you sobbed, read to you in exaggerated voices until you dozed off with your head in his lap and his fingers in your hair.

You know he wouldn’t mind, that he was happy to help you, be there for you. But you were so scared of him seeing you differently and changing his mind about you. You were terrified that if he saw the real you, truly, that he would leave. You’d become too much, too little, never the right amount, just like you always did.

That’s why when you heard a knock on your door your heart race picked up, you felt your skin flush, because you knew it was him. You knew he’d come, you knew he’d be worried and you can’t decide if worrying him to the point that he showed up at your door or just texting him back was worse. You heard him knock lightly on the door a few more times before you heard the key you had given him turning the lock.

“Baby? Are you here? I just came to check on you… haven’t heard from you since yesterday morning and I was starting to worry.”

His voice became louder as he talked, his footsteps padding down the hall to your bedroom door. Your head was still shoved under your blankets so you didn’t see him but you heard the knob turn and the door swing open.

“Sweetheart…”

Eddie’s heart nearly shattered when he opened your bedroom door. Your room was trashed, the black out curtains drawn blocking out the moonlight, and even your fairy lights you always had on, even in the night, were shut off. He couldn’t see you, but he could see the outline of you and hear your breathing. He walks over to your bed and sits on the side next to the lump of blankets you’ve buried yourself in. His hand comes up and runs along your side and it causes you to jump.

“Baby… please let me help you? Let me take care of you. I know you’re scared of being a burden but you’re never a burden to me.” He continued to run his hand up and down your body, the feeling already causing your body to subconsciously relax just the tiniest bit. “Can you come out? Please? I wanna see my girl.”

“I look horrible Eddie… I don’t want you to see me like this.” You pull the blanket tighter against you, shutting him out no matter how loud your body screamed at you to just throw yourself into his arms.

“I’ve seen you wasted, vomiting your guts out in Harrington’s bathtub, it can’t be much worse than that baby. Come oooonnnnn pleeeseee. I’m not above begging.”

He chuckles, his hand squeezing your hip lightly before it resumes caressing you. You sigh, pulling the blanket back just enough to peak your eyes out and him and your heart swells. He’s so beautiful, just the sight of him made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Just being near him made you feel just a little bit more alive. He pushes the blanket the rest of the way off your head, smoothing your hair out of your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl. Hi baby.”

He cups your face in his hand, running his thumb along your sweaty cheek, not caring if you think you look awful, you’re always gorgeous to him. Even like this. Especially like this. Raw and real. He wants you to feel safe with him when you’re in this low place. He wants to sink down to your level and pull you back up with his hand in yours. Eddie would do anything for you. He knows that scares you, he knows you want to believe him but it’s hard to fight the feeling that he’s going to abandon you. But he will do whatever it takes to prove you wrong. To prove that he isn’t like everyone else. To prove that he will stay.

“Hi.” Your voice comes out a scratchy and whiney and it makes you even more embarrassed than you already are. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart. I’m here for you, always. I brought your favorite snacks, bubbles, and your favorite teddy bear, me. Come here, let me hold you.”

He pushes the blanket back further and you shiver when the cool air of your room hits your body. He holds his arms out to you and your whole body tingles. He’s here for you. He wants to be here for you, and even though that terrifies you, the soft look on his face makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe. You push yourself up and he grabs you by the forearms pulling you into his lap and cradling you like a small child.

As soon as his arms are around you the floodgates open, sobs leaving your entire body shaking while your tears soak Eddie’s t-shirt. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just holds you while you cry, running his hands through your tangled hair, caressing your skin under your oversized shirt, kissing on your tear stained cheeks. After a while your sobs turn to small cries before they finally stop.

“It’s okay baby girl, you’re okay. I’m here for you, okay? Let me run us a nice bath, afterwards you can eat something, only if you want, if not that’s okay, I just want you to drink some water for me okay?”

“Okay Eddie… thank you, I-“

“Shh, you don’t have to thank me and you don't need to apologize, I’m your boyfriend and I love you, let me be here for you.” He smiles sweetly at you, rubbing the remaining tears from your cheeks and gathering you in his arms.

Eddie spends the night making good on his promises. He pampers you in the bath, washing you and brushing your hair, even putting lotion on your skin afterwards. He puts your comfort movie on tv in the living room so you can lay on the couch while he makes your safe meal. He doesn’t push you to talk, he knows you will when you’re ready. He holds you and tells you he loves you while he makes commentary on your favorite movie. When you finally start to feel sleep creeping up on you he ushers you back to your bed, the sheets now changed because he insisted it wasn’t a big deal. He holds you tight, and kisses you over and over again. He even gets you to giggle and pulls a genuine smile out of you a few times.

As you lay there in the love of your life’s arms you feel less hopeless. You feel less alone. You feel your body start to warm inside from the tips of your toes all the way to your nose as he places a gentle kiss on it. You feel safe. You regret not calling him sooner but the fact that he came without you even asking makes it even more special to you. Your mind can tell you he doesn’t care all it wants, because he’s always there to tell you he does.

“I love you angel, get some rest, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll always be here.”

“I love you Eddie. I know you told me not to thank you, but thank you, for being here for me. For being you.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, placing a gentle kiss there before you doze off into a peaceful sleep. In the arms of someone you know loves you.

[buckyswifeduh]

can’t help but drown

pairings: Bucky x fem!reader

summary: the past few months you think you have a handle on your anxiety. but after a silent panic attack in the bathtub, Bucky is there to pull you out.

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, feeling helpless, feelings of suffocation, ANGST!!!

The water moved in soft ruffles around you. Not quite making waves, however, moving from how your anxious legs swayed the water.

Shallow breaths and water hitting the porcelain tub softly were all you could hear. Your body was too overheated, your mind was racing and you could feel your heartbeat in your hands.

You didn't know where this sudden burst of anxiety and panic had risen from. Just that you couldn't get out of the water. Something was keeping you down. Making your body drown.

"Doll?" A sudden tap on the door knocked you out of your trance. You swallowed, your throat feeling like sandpaper against your tongue. "Y-yeah?" Your voice cracked, and you silently cursed knowing Bucky would notice. That super soldier hearing never lets you live anything down.

"You've been in there for a while." You heard him lean against the door, "Is everything alright?" You nodded, remembering as much as Bucky could hear you better than most, he definitely can't see through walls.

"Y-yes. I'm alright, just...uh." You tried to think. Any excuse would work. Bucky might not believe you but he would let the topic go. "Just needed some extra alone time tonight."

"Oh," Bucky mumbled through the door. "Okay, doll." You could feel the hurt in his voice. You didn't need alone time from him. You didn't need to be alone at all right now but he couldn't see you like this.

A sweaty, anxious, mess.

You didn't know how much time had passed. Your nails attempt to dig into the porcelain of the tub, but to no avail, you're only yourself in the process. "Sweetheart?" Bucky taps on the door once more, "Please talk to me." You try to speak, but only a mumble comes out. The bubbles in the bath are gone. Only leaving a white film on top of the now room-temperature water.

"Doll, I'm coming in." You attempt to refuse but nothing comes out as Bucky breaks the lock on the door, softly opening it. You can't look at him. You won't.

You keep your head forward, staring into the wall as you feel Bucky kneel beside you.

He can see how hard your nails are clutching onto the side of the tub, softly lifting your hand as you ball your fist. Your nails now digging into the skin of your palm; drawing blood.

"Hey, hey." Bucky unclenches your fist, letting your nails hurt his metal hand instead.

Using his flesh hand, he softly places a palm on your cheek, bringing your eyes to his. "Doll, what's going on? Talk to me." You shake your head, eyes falling closed as more tears adorn your already-flushed cheeks.

"Okay, that's okay." Bucky whispers, "But I need to get you out of this tub sweetheart." He doesn't need to feel the water to know you've been in the bath for far too long.

"Can I get you out, doll?" You slowly nod, your chin shaking with the sobs you so badly don't want to release.

Bucky mumbles an alright. Moving one of his arms under your legs, the other holding your back as you clutch onto his shirt.

He lifts you up, the water rolling off of your body and soaking his once-dry clothes. "I'm so sorry." You mumble, repeating it over and over as your body starts to shiver from the temperature difference. "Shhh, you're okay, sweetheart."

Bucky wraps a towel around the exposed side of your body, attempting to keep you warm as he brings you into your shared bedroom. "I'm gonna lay you down, doll."

You shake your head violently, clutching onto his henley even harder. "Please, please don't leave me."

Bucky sits down with you still in his arms on the bed, your legs now lying over his as he holds you. "I won't. I promise, sweetheart I'm not leaving."

You both sit there for a moment, tears falling from your eyes, him rocking you back and forth as an old record played from the living room.

You start to feel a weight lift off your chest, your heartbeat calming slightly at the touch of Bucky's arms on yours. You start to speak, wanting to explain yourself when Bucky shushes you. "You don't have to explain sweetheart." He kisses the crown of your head, your hair still wet. "You can talk when you're ready." You nod, continuously wondering how you found someone so caring and endearing. "I just..." You looked up at Bucky, his blue eyes shining down at you with such love. "I felt like I was drowning." He nods, "Sometimes we can't help but drown, doll."

Kissing your forehead once again, he squeezes your body tighter to his. "But I'll be there every time to pull you from the water.

[agaypanic]

REESE WILKERSON X READER SMUT PLS BEFORE HES GONE FORVEVER 💔

Happy Graduation (Reese Wilkerson X Reader Smut)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Instead of going to the senior party after graduation, you and Reese sneak onto the football field after everyone’s gone.

A/N: ik in the show their graduation is in the gym, but my graduation was on the football field

C/W: unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it!), semi public sex (empty football field), clothed sex

***

“So, how does it feel to be a high school graduate?” You asked your boyfriend as he helped you get over the tall fence that wrapped around the football field.

Reese made sure you landed on the other side before shrugging and hopping over himself. “I’m kinda surprised they let me graduate in the first place.” You giggled at Reese’s answer.

“I am, too.” Reese gave your ass a teasing swat, fondly rolling his eyes. “What?” You laughed. “You already had to repeat senior year once.”

“Hey! That was on purpose.” You raised a brow at him, and he sighed, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you walked onto the field. “Okay, I was probably already gonna have to repeat it. But I purposefully flunked all the finals. I deserve some credit for that.”

The football field was completely void of people besides you and Reese, a very stark contrast to half an hour ago. Stray balloons and confetti flew around with the soft gusts of wind. It was like a happy ghost town.

You and Reese stopped at one of the goalposts. You looked at him flirtatiously, leaning against the metal pole. “So, why’d you drag me out here, Wilkerson?”

Instead of answering, Reese grabbed your hips and pushed his body against yours. He kissed you with hunger, pinning you to the goalpost. You moaned into Reese’s mouth, hands flying up to knock the graduation cap off his head and tangle your fingers in his hair. One of your boyfriend’s legs wedged its way in between yours, and his hands helped guide your hips to grind back and forth on his thigh.

“Making such a mess on my leg.” Reese tsked against your lips, feeling your wetness slowly soak your panties and getting onto his thigh. “Needy little thing.”

In the heat of the moment, you somehow ended up lying on the rough turf, Reese hovering over you. You could feel his growing erection rubbing against you for relief while Reese kissed and nipped at your neck.

You started whining, lifting your hips to try and get some friction. “Reese, I need you so bad. Please.”

“Being so polite.” He cooed. Reese hastily unzipped your graduation gown, revealing the black satin dress you wore underneath. Reese sat up on the balls of his feet for a moment, tugging off his own gown and handing it to you to use as a pillow so that the turf rocks would get into your hair. While you balled up the fabric and put it under your head, you watched Reese unbuckle his belt and push his slacks down just enough to take himself out of his boxers. 

Reese stroked himself for a moment, becoming fully erect while he watched your chest heave with every breath. He pushed the hem of your dress up your thighs and past your hips, showcasing the lace panties you wore for the momentous occasion. 

“All for me.” He muttered to himself, moving the seat of your panties to the side. Reese sighed at the sight before him. “So wet for me, baby.”

Reese settled over you, kissing you again as he collected your arousal on the tip of his cock before burying himself inside you with one thrust. He practically swallowed the moans and whimpers that came out of your mouth as you adjusted to his size.

When you started to squirm and beg Reese to move, he hiked one of your legs up to hook around his hip before thrusting into you. He started out soft and slow while he whispered sweet nothings to you. But it soon devolved into him ramming in and out of you roughly, the two of you making loud grunts and moans. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone came to investigate your loud noises.

Reese grabbed your other leg and lifted it up, pressing both against your chest while continuing his feverish pace. You shuddered and mewled at the new angle, and your cunt squeezing around Reese signaled to him that you were close.

“Come on, babe, come on.” He panted, kissing at your chest. 

Reese’s hand slid down between your bodies and rubbed your clit with his thumb, not letting up on his brutal pace. The action made you stiffen, the coil deep in your stomach snapping and overwhelming you with euphoria. Reese continued fucking you through your release to chase his own. Head still filled with neediness, and not wanting to lose contact, you wrapped your legs around Reese and locked your ankles. Soon, he was filling you with his seed, hips now moving with a stutter until he staggered to a stop and gently collapsed on top of you.

“That was…” You lost your train of thought, still breathless. “That was hot.” You soon said with a giggle.

Reese lifted his head from the crook of your neck, looking at you with dazed eyes. “Do you wanna go back to my house?” He asked, fingers twirling stray strands of your hair.

“Your house is too crowded.” You said with a disappointed sigh. Then you lit up with an idea, giving your boyfriend a smirk. “Let’s go to my place.”

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank @theogirlovermattheogirl

[beardedalcoholic]

Medical Emergency

‘Medical Emergency, Navigation 4, Medical Emergency, Navigation 4.’

The message repeated over and over across the PA system of the Leviathan Class exploratory ship. A massive space fairing vessel dedicated to finding the edge of creation and everything in between the Galactic Edge was a marvel of multi-species engineering.

Fifteen different habitats built to within micro-specifications for the species they were meant to hold, seven multi species common areas built to accommodate every race on board. Enough FTL drives to be able to be fired in succession so when one batch went down another could be brought online so they didn’t even have to stop for a cool down period between jumps. Recycling processes efficient within .0001% allowing near as possible full self-sustainability for an indefinite amount of time.

The main drawback of such a marvel of galactic traversal being of course…the FUCKING size…larger than some moons, a population numbering more than some planets (or at least it felt that way) and yet somehow never enough personnel in the right places at the right times.

‘Of course the emergency is right inside the border of my territory, because why wouldn’t it be? And of course, it had to be JUST as I was about to go off shift.’ Thought MD1 Joseph Jarl, JJ to anyone who wanted to continue a comfortable existence, after all no one knew how best to take someone apart than the ones who had to put others back together.

Running at full human speed JJ flew down the various passages dodging, spinning, ducking and jumping around the many obstacles in his way with all the predatory grace humans were gifted with.

‘Ha! and mom always said it was a waste for a doctor to learn parkour.’ 

Sliding on one hip beneath the centaur like body of a Gravelin engineer and popping back up to a full run JJ jumped and thrust one foot out to run alongside a bulkhead when he came to a T-section of corridor, narrowly missing the heads of a group of Ranki environmental scientists as he fell from the wall and rolled to maintain momentum.

Slamming a hand to the Medical Bypass Badge on his chest, signaling the door immediately in front of him to open JJ slid to a stop inside Nav.Bay 4 eyes flicking around the space looking for the emergency.

Sharp ocean blue eyes registered three different species, one of which still tensed when in direct line of sight of his forward-facing predatory gaze. Attention landing on a group of navigators clustered in a small huddle JJ slung the med-pack off his back and approached the group.

Head held high, shoulders wide and a purpose in his stride JJ projected every ounce of authority he could dredge up from his years as a medical professional he could when he ordered the group to back up and give him some space to work with. Approaching the center of the group JJ noticed the Elental on the floor, curled into a ball and rocking back and forth while making small pathetic whining sounds while very obviously having a hard time breathing.

Dropping to one knee in front of the one species on board that most closely resembled a human JJ slowly reached out and rested a hand on the Elental’s shoulder. Being a species that stood on average around 6.5-7 feet tall he barely had to reach to grasp the rocking figure’s shoulder.

Elental were a bipedal race with nearly translucent skin in direct light, long sharply pointed ears, eyes that stretched from the bridge of a dual slit nose to where the temple would be on a human with three pupils each, mostly human proportioned faces and a universally slender build.

It was a very little-known fact but the first time the human council met an Elental the lead diplomat was in fact recorded on official record as having muttered the phrase ‘Fuck me we found Space Elves’… though the actual audio recording of this moment was very deeply buried beneath as much galactic red tape as was possible. Noticing there was no response to his touch JJ turned to the closest navigator and asked for any details on the medical emergency.

“We don’t really know Human JJ, he was trying to determine some FTL jump coordinates and the timing required to make them when he started shaking and his speech became rapid and somewhat slurred, he began shaking and clutching his, well it would be the stomach on you, but his main pulmonary area and his respiration began to rapidly increase. When he tried to walk away from his station he collapsed and that was when we called the emergency, is he sick?” The Fenra asked nervously after the quick report on what happened.

JJ would never admit it but seeing a three-foot alien that looked like were-shitzu nervous and scared was absolutely adorable.

“I don’t think so no…hold on,” Quickly determining that there was no external injuries JJ tried raising the Elental’s head to look into his face but his patient seemed to be in a stubborn mood.

Taking a chance JJ reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple twentieth century zippo, an antique passed down in his family that he kept in working condition and never went anywhere without.

Flicking it open with a sharp, practiced snap JJ kept the grin off his face when the Elental’s gaze snapped up at the sudden sound. With a flick of his thumb JJ lit the lighter and held it directly between his eyes. The Elental’s six pupils swiveled and in a rather disconcerting motion…fused into a single large pupil for each eye the size of an Old Earth quarter, totally focused on the flame a mere six inches away.

“What is your name?” JJ asked slowly, in a deep and calm voice that witnesses would later report had a strange resonance to it.

“E-e-ekariel” The Elental responded with a slight stutter, eyes locked on the tiny flame as JJ slowly began to move it back and forth.

“Listen to my voice Ekariel, listen to nothing but my voice, focus on the sound of my words and know nothing but my words…What do you feel Ekariel, what is beneath you right now?” This question spoken in the same deep resonating voice.

“Tell me what is in the now, what is beneath you at this very moment.”

“Deck plates.” The answer came out in a somewhat hurried response.

“Describe the deck plates Ekariel, what are they made of?” The flame moved slowly from left to right and back again, never going further than the outer reaches of the human’s own eyes…left eye, right eye back to left and repeat.

“Cold, metal, textured in small waves, rigid.” Ekariels voice came slightly stronger, less breathless and wheezing.

“What do you see Ekariel, describe what your eyes are telling you.”

“Fire, small flame, glittering eyes, blue stars and black holes.”

“What do you smell Ekariel, describe what you smell in the immediate area around you?” JJ asked as he pitched his voice slightly lower and slowed the waving of the lighter marginally.

“Four species…Musk, fur, water…Otorian species fresh from the hydrosphere…Dust, heat, insects…Lidarians recently from the arid habitats…mold, plant decay, rain…Jaguras from the forest dome…pheromones, sweat, spice, disinfectant…human recently in the medical bay.” Ekariels breathing slowed and stabilized as he spoke, voice gaining slightly more strength.

“What do you hear Ekariel, tell me what sounds you hear in this moment.” The flame now slowly traversed from one pupil to the other, no faster than before but slowly closing in on the middle of the human’s face.

“Typing, I can hear digits impacting sensor boards to the right…scratching, someone is writing equations long hand for accuracy checks near the forward portion of the bay…breathing, so many breathing patterns.” The Elental’s eyes never wavered from the flame, slowly tracking it back and forth, voice becoming stronger, limbs no longer shaking as bad though still quivering slightly.

“Focus on the breathing Ekariel.”

Now the flame only traversed from the inner corner of JJ’s eyes, never moving faster or slower, JJ’s voice becoming slightly deeper, seeming to hum and resonate more from his chest than his throat or mouth.

“Listen to the breaths around you, feel the air move as it is taken in and expelled…smell the breaths of those around you, those who would look after you…now slowly block them out…block out all the breaths but your own…tell me about your breaths Ekariel.” The lighter now barely moved past the outer edges of JJ’s nose.

“Three respiratory voids…expanding and filtering contaminants from the air…nutrients being stripped from the atmosphere into the blood stream…collapsing and expelling by-products of respiration…oxygen, nitrogen, helium being removed from the system via respiration…” Ekariel’s voice now had an almost sleeping dream like quality to it, low and slow.

“Tell me about the heartbeats Ekariel…how many do you feel?” The flame was still now, directly between JJ’s eyes, the focused and unblinking eyes of a predator staring directly into Ekariel’s own dilated pupils.

“I can only feel one heart beat…I can only feel my own heart.”

“Come back to us Ekariel…focus on my voice and with every beat of your heart come back to us…with every beat, shed the fear that imprisoned you and follow my voice.” JJ slowly began to back away from Ekariel as spoke, incrementally rolling onto his haunches as the Elental followed the flame.

Slowly JJ closed the lid to his antique lighter snuffing the flame. As if waking from a deep sleep Ekariel blinked and shook his head, pupils splitting back into two sets of three and eyes widening.

“Easy, easy, Ekariel… focus on the now, sight, smell, touch, hearing focus on those. Come on lad breath in…out…in…out, there you go, no don’t get up…lay down and focus, gather your thoughts.” JJ slowly eased the Elantel down fully onto the deck plates and raised his reverse jointed knees as best he could.

“Ekariel I need you to listen to me, listen to my voice…are you listening?” Ekariel nodded his head, looking up a JJ with a slightly dazed look on his face.

“You had a panic attack E.K. logs show you haven’t had a sufficient rest period for three cycles and in that time your nutritional intake has sharply declined. You are suffering from lack of rest and negligence of sustenance. As such I am removing you from the duty roster for the next four cycles and requiring you to report to the Galley Watch for every normal meal time where you will eat AT A MINIMUM a full standard meal of no less than one and a half again the daily nutritional requirement for at least two cycles. You are barred from any areas or activities relating to the navigation or piloting of this vessel…basically you are going to take the next four cycles to eat food, sleep, relax and either work on or find a hobby.” JJ finished with a small smile at the oddly shell-shocked look on Ekariel’s face.

================================================

After having received JJ’s report on the medical emergency and that Ekariel would be fine with a few cycles of rest and full meals the captain instigated a mandatory rotation of extended rest periods lasting at least three cycles unless otherwise noted by a Corpsman.

On paper the decision was to help the training and cross training of individuals by exposing them to a variety of new positions for longer periods of time and to potentially familiarize more of the crew with the inner workings of other departments and areas of the ship. In reality it was so the entire crew could have a chance to catch their breath and actually enjoy it before being thrown back into high stress situations, they were going to be on this ship for quite a long time after all, no need to have them burn themselves out so early in the voyage.

[jellyskink]

Everything had been good for a while, too good. Not that Ford was complaining in fact it was quite the opposite. Things had started about a month ago Ford had a momentary laps in his behavior, it wasn't that bad honest it wasn't, he didn't even know why, his body just moved on it’s own. He was alone in his room doing research when IT happened. Static. Anger. He couldn't help himself his equipment was shoved to the floor Test Tubes and flasks were shattered and there contents spilled across the floor. His notes were then riped up and scattered around the room like confetti. He grabbed his desk chair and threw it against the wall, the rampage continued untill one of his precious figures of his mused knocked over braking into pieces.

(My Muse… no, no, no. How could this happen) tears pooled in his face and curled up into a small ball on the floor (he wasn't even deserving enough for his bed) rocking back and forth hands grasped around his necklace, muttering apologies to it

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I don't know what happened. My Muse please forgive me. I'M SORRY… I Love you more then anything you know that, you must. It was an accident. Please Forgive me.”

A hand was placed on his shoulder and Ford flinched at the touch. He was alone a second ago, he looked back at the hand that reached out to him, and saw his muse.

“My Muse… I'm so… *hiccup* sorry. Please… *Sobbing noise*... it was an accident….”

His Muses hand was released from his shoulder, and while Ford had fully expected that hand to punish him for his outburst, (after all he deserved it). What he didn't expect was the hand to be placed on his back gently rubbing small circles.

“It's okay. Fordsy. I know. I know it was just an accident and you didn't mean to. Everything will be just fine, after all… you mean so much to me.”

Did he just hear this right? His Muse forgave him. No no that couldn't be right he hasn't earned his forgiveness. He didn't show his muse how sorry he was, his food wasn't withheld, he wasn't thrown out the window, he wasn't tossed into a closet with the same song on full volume on repeat for days. He hadn't done any of that yet for this outburst, and now here's his beloved muse comforting him. Despite his better judgment he pulled his muse into a tight hug and sobbed in his arms.

“There there it's okay let it out… I know how much YOU love me.”

“Thank you, thank you. My Muse my wonderful muse thank you.”

“Any time why don't take a moment to gather your self. I'll be in the throne room come join me when your ready. Okay, and take all the time you need.”

He must be dreaming. He tried to summon a bag of jellybeans to see if he was dreaming, and when not materialized he knew he was in the real world and not the dreamscape. He smiled and looked up at the tapestries of his muse then at the posters that said “remember your here forever” and one that said “Who rescued who?” Were things starting to change?

Now that a month has passed since the incident and everything was beautiful. His muse allowed him small luxuries that he had only thought were for humans. He let him sit on the throne with him, next to him and not just on the floor by his feet. His muse also let him eat his food (which was now 100% glass and metal free) on a table and not just on a bowl on the floor. Sure he still slept on the dog bed but he was now given a blanket to help keep him warm on those especially cold nights. Everything was perfect. His muse finally loved him in return, There was no more punishments no more anger directed towards him, Ford was actually developing a healthy glow and his confidence was better even Dr. Oleander was impressed to see his change. Everything was Beautiful. If only he didn't screw everything up.

He didn't even know what he did wrong. It was the one month anniversary of his new founded relationship with his muse and everything needed to be special. Ford had spent the entire day hunting rats so he can spell out his muse name and give it to him. Ford knew that there relationship long ago had moved past the rat stage but still he thought it was a great throwback and hopefully his muse saw it as nostalgic as much as he did. Turns out giving Rats out to the love of your life at a party he threw with all of his henchmen Was not a smart idea. When the gift was presented there was laughter. And not the good kind, they weren't laughing WITH him they were laughing AT him.

Don't cry Stanford dont cry. He cried he didn't understand what was wrong he thought it was a lovely gift. And now even his muse was laughing at him.

“Aw looky here folks look how much Fordsy here loves me!”

“I do… my muse I sware, I thought this would be a good anniversary gift.”

“Anniversary? Of what. The Weirddnnaverary isn't until march.”

“Well… I… thought, it's our one month since we started dating.”

Laughter erupted. “Who the fuck said that we were dating. As if anyone could love a sad pathetic man who spends more time crying then practicing his routine for next weeks dog show. “

Wait what surely they were dating. They ate together, they curled up next to each other while Ford read bill stories while bill played with his hair, His Muse even complimented him for every little thing. He was starting to feel like an actual person again.

“Aw boss look your dog thinks he's your boyfriend, how cute. You taking him to the dog park for your next date?”

Embarrassment filled his face tears fell. He ran to his room and wouldn't come out. How foolishly was he mistaking kindness for a relationship.

*one month ago bills pov*

“Look Pyronica” his eye switched to television mode, “Fordsy here is having one of his breakdowns again. Aww look he “Loves” me oh my me like he has a chance, who could ever love him? Pathetic. You know what I have a great idea wanna see how desperate he is for affection? Can't wait to see how messed up this will make him.”

Look I did this instead of sleeping if you see spelling and grammar mistakes, ya didn't got that?

Is this what my life has become this is my 3rd fic for this au, not complaining but damn I have never been this inspired. Anyway have a nice day and thanks for reading!

This is heartbreakingggggggggggggggggg 💔

[ghuleh-witch]

Fandom: Ghost Rating: General Warnings: none Relationships: Copia x female!Reader Additional Tags: established relationship, comfort, fluff, no beta WordCount: 775 Summary: Copia takes care of you while you're sick. Notes: Copia can be read as Cardinal, Papa, or Frater.

Ao3 || Masterlist

Copia knew exactly how you liked your tea: One tea bag (black tea, preferably Irish Breakfast tea), two spoonfuls of sugar (it has to be a little spoon and not a big spoon), and just a tiny splash of whole milk. He knows it by heart and has watched you make your cup of tea every morning since you moved in with him a year ago, but he was nervous as he stood in front of the stove waiting for the kettle of water to whistle. You were sick in bed with a nasty cold and had asked him to make a cup of tea.

“It’ll help my throat,” you croaked as you made sure to cocoon yourself in a pile of blankets. 

He, ever the caretaker, hurried to fulfill your request. Copia repeated the steps over and over. He had your favorite mug prepped with the tea bag, the jar of sugar, a little spoon, and the carton of whole milk that was specifically for your tea. As he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, he heard you let out a harsh cough from the bedroom. Seeing you so ill made his heart clench. If he could snap his fingers, he’d take your place because he just wanted to see you happy and healthy. He knew the tea would cheer you up though. That’s why he needed to get it just right for you.

The shrill whistle pierced the air, and he turned the stove burner off and poured the boiling water into the black mug that read: Resting Witch Face . Copia let the tea steep, debating whether to ask you if you’d rather have honey than sugar if it was for your throat, but he knew that if you wanted honey, you would have said so. He stuck to your recipe, trusting that you knew what you wanted. He put the two spoonfuls of sugar into the tea, stirred it, and then added the splash of milk. He frowned as the tea turned a lighter color than you usually drank. “Too much milk,” he muttered as he removed the tea bag. 

A minute later, he was returning to the bedroom with the mug in hand, as well as a bottle of cold medicine. “I have your tea, amore ,” he said, setting both the mug and medicine down on your nightstand. “Added too much milk, I think. Mi dispiace .”

“It’s okay,” you groaned as you sat up and reached for the mug. “It will still be delicious either way.” You held the mug in between your hands, allowing the steam to clear your sinuses, even just temporarily. You took a tentative sip of the hot beverage as Copia measured out some of the syrupy medicine. “Do I have to?” You whined, scrunching your face at the artificial cherry-flavored medicine.

“ Si, amore ,” he said, sounding apologetic. “I know you hate this shit, but it will help with your cough and help you get some sleep. You need the rest if you want to get better.”

You put the mug of tea down and reached for the metal water bottle filled with cold water that sat next to your box of tissues. “Let’s get this over with,” you sighed as you took the little cup of medicine. You pinched your nose and knocked it back before quickly chasing it with water. You could still taste the bitterness of the syrup and the sickening cherry flavor. The medicine made you gag a little, but you got it down. “There. All gone,” you said once you swallowed it all down. 

“Good girl,” he said, cupping your cheek and giving it a little pat before moving his hand to your forehead. “No fever at least. That’s good.” 

“Still feel like a truck ran me over,” you said as you snuggled back against your pillows. You reached for your tea again and took another sip. “How long is your meeting?”

“I shouldn’t be more than an hour, and then I’ll be right back here with you. I’ll make some soup for dinner and we can have cuddles while we watch a movie.”

“Hmmm can’t wait. But you better get going or else you’re going to be late for your meeting,” you replied. You went to go set your tea down but Copia took it from your hand and took a sip out of it. “Hey, you’re gonna get sick too now.”

“Then we can be sick together. It’ll be worth it if I can spend the whole day in bed with you,” he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead and leaving you to rest.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

(I'm sending this real last minute so it's okay if you don't reply with your writing!)

Fuck-dumb Steve getting fucked in several positions has been the only thing on my mind lately i swear and Archie's writing did nothing but make it worse.

1. Cowgirl

Can you imagine Steve bouncing on Bucky's cock, panting and whining uncontrollably with his eyes all blown out. He could feel his legs cramping from the repeating motion of lifting himself up and sinking down on Bucky's thick cock with a moan or a whimper but nothing could overcome the feeling of Bucky buried deep inside of him. His lips were parted, trying to suck in as much air as he could, his chest heaving from the pressure that was placed on his chest. From the pressure of Bucky's face buried in between his tits. "Buck- oh fuck-! Buck!"– was all Steve could make up in between is moans, eyes beautifully rolling to the back of his empty head.

2. Missionary

Even if it's the only position that Steve and Bucky would use for vanilla/love making, it can get rough too. Steve's head would always tip back every time Bucky pushed his legs back (pinning him down), his toes curling in the air as he'd always clamp around the length of Bucky's cock. Bucky could never not groan at the sight of his baby's body rocking back and forth from the sheer power that he'd use in his thrusts, pushing out small 'ah's from Steve each time the top of his head merely pressed against the headboard. Not even moans at this point. His brain wasn't working hard enough to let him scream. All he could let out was small gasps and whimpers every time he could feel the girth of Bucky's cock sliding in and out of him.

3. Good ol' doggy style/ass up face down

Bucky would always get a hand full of Steve's blonde hair and would most definitely tug it every time Steve wants to get fucked on fours, yanking his head back slightly with each of his thrusts, making him pant and whine from the sting on his scalp. Not that he was complaining. He was a man made of muscle. He could squirm away if he wanted to but he didn't. Steve would always moan and whimper until his arms crumble, letting him go ass up face down, his thighs threatening to crumble as it quivered and tremble uncontrollably each time Bucky thrusts forward.

-Pleading anon

This is from the requests I got before I closed my writing requests for the school year. I'm not taking requests during the school year.

You can find Archie here and here

You're all good, lol, you still were on time 😘 it just took me a long fucking time to come back to this. I'm sorry, lmao. That's my bad.

Oh, I can imagine

And I ask you to imagine the same except, rather than this occurring over several different sex sessions, montage style, this occurs during the same drawn-out marathon session. So Steve starts out going dumb, but the more Bucky moves him around, the more he's manhandled and manipulated, the more dumb he becomes until he really is just a pretty pile of mush.

Also, while we're at it, imagine this all happening while Steve is locked tight in chasity. He wants so badly to get hard, he wants to cum as many times as Bucky is, using his super soldier stamina to his advantage, but he can't. He can't get hard. He can't cum. All he can do is drip and drip and drip.

His cage is pretty, polished stainless steel that glints in the light, dressing up his soft, little cock, but with how he's dripping honey, that cage glistens.

His balls are swollen and wet, too. He's wet. So wet. Pre-cum dripping out of the head of his weeping, trapped cock and his brain dripping out of his ears.

His skin is damp with sweat, so he glistens, too. Catching all the light. The center of attention. Pretty and fucked out and dumb despite not having gotten one orgasm. It's been so long since he's orgasmed that he doesn't even think he needs it anymore. All he needs is Bucky. He revels in what Bucky does to him. The way Bucky makes him feel heaven without ever actually having release. It's paradoxical. It's perfect.

Sex isn't about chasing orgasm. Sex is about the penetration. The heat. The intimacy. The pressure. The wetness. The sounds. The pleasure. The way Bucky moves him and makes his toes curl until the soles of his feet cramp. Everything other than his orgasm. Steve doesn't have to think about orgasm. There is no distraction. He doesn't have to work to focus on the larger-than-can-fit-inside-his-body feelings. Good feelings.

Oh, God.

He loves how Bucky fucks him.

Cowgirl

The moment Steve is set on Bucky's cock, he's dumb. Brain gone. It doesn't matter that he was fine--put together and intelligent--before he was set right on Bucky's thick cock. His own cock twitches and kicks in its cage. It wants out. But Steve doesn't want to take it off. He gets enough from bouncing on Bucky's cock, panting and whining uncontrollably with his eyes all blown out.

He doesn't need his cock.

He doesn't need to cum.

There's more than enough relief in the way Bucky stretches out all the deepest parts of him that get so, so empty between fuckings. So deep. So thick. Fuck. Steve fucking chokes on it. He whimpers on it, rolling his hips and panting from the intrusion pressing up against his prostate, forcibly milking hot, messy drips of pre-cum from the head of his cock. His eyes roll at the way the satisfying weight of the cage tugs at him where he's so goddamn sensitive. Yet, really, he is overcome with the feeling of Bucky buried deep inside him. Nothing else can touch it. Not even the cage, as much as he loves it.

Constricting.

Freeing.

Steve half sits on his cock, moaning, lips parted, trying to suck in as much air as possible, chest heaving, and half bounces. He's not smart enough to focus just on bouncing. Especially not when Bucky will occasionally fuck up into him hard. That scrambles him into a useless mush every time.

Oh, oh, OH! He screams when Bucky does it.

He wants to cry every time it happens. The pleasure. The pressure. The, the--

Guh.

It's indescribable.

He doesn't have words. He doesn't have thoughts. And pretty soon he doesn't have any fucking motor control anymore either. He's a ragdoll. Bucky is holding him up with a vicious grip on his hips, burning bruises into his pretty pale skin, groaning and grunting, watching those black-with-arousal eyes roll to the back of his empty skull. He's just along for the ride. Head lulling uselessly, back arching, tits jiggling, thighs flexing, and cock making cute metallic clink-clink-clink sounds as his cage is rustled around.

All those precious noises continue, "Ah!"s and "Oh!"s and strung-out, pathethetic cries of "Buck!"

All too soon, Bucky can't take it. He flips Steve around without fucking problem, manhandling him through his orgasm, filling him up, hardly breaking a sweat while Steve gets absolutely wrecked.

Missionary

Bucky manages to arrange the puddle that is Steve onto his back, his legs spread whorishly wide to let Bucky's thick cock in. All he wants. Bucky teases him that he lives for cock--lives to be fucked, and sweet, stupid Steve can only barely shake his head yes. He's desperate. Whining. Toes curling in the air as he clamps around the length of Bucky's cock like vice grip, slick velvet. Shaking.

Now, every sound that comes out of him is gurgling or choked, like he really is that deep inside him. In his throat.

"Unh, uh, uh-!" He sputters.

It only inspires Bucky to put more of his back into it. Using the soft, intimate position to remind Steve what he can't fucking live without.

He can't live without this feeling.

Bucky's muscles under his clawing hands. Bucky's cock carving deep, deep into him, making space inside his body for himself. Bucky's mouth on his tits, wet and charming and sharp and unfathomably fucking hot. Bucky's mouth against his, growling and groaning and biting. Bucky's fingers digging into his shoulders or into his jaw, holding onto him because if he doesn't the thrusts will literally fuck Steve up the bed. And as stupid as Steve is, he doesn't need to be stupider, getting his head hit against the headboard.

Bucky cums in him again that way. It's a lot.

Wet.

Hot.

Filthy.

Snarling and tearing into his collarbone, bruising him like a ripe peach, Bucky feels the first round of his release get forced out of his heavy, swollen-feeling balls into Steve. Steve is so fucking tight around the hot, thick, spear of his cock he just can't take it.

"Messy boy," Bucky licks sloppily up his sternum, not feeling bad for even half a second at the way Steve whines so sharply in arousal that his face twists up in pain, throat aching from all the noise he's making. It's not his fault Steve is such a pretty, easy slut, now is it? It's not like his dick makes anyone 50% dumber just by reason of being inside them.

It's just Steve.

Just Steve.

He lets out a hilariously loud, wrecked sound when Bucky drags his metal fingers brazenly around his twitching, puffy, wet rim.

He can feel cum leaking out of him.

"Buh-- B-" Steve's so fucked out, so fuck-dumb that he can't even manage to moan Bucky's name. He doesn't have words.

Perfect.

He's right where Bucky wants him. Or, actually, Bucky wants him worse--he wants him stupider. Dumber. Even more drooling and brainless.

Doggy Style

So...

He flips his stupid boy over. He needs to get at that stuffed full ass.

"Ohhhhh," Steve moans, long and low, into the sheets. Only slightly muffled.

Fuck.

The day Bucky doesn't get a kick out of Steve moaning like he's fucking stupid will be the day Bucky is dead. He gets a fucking kick out of it. A kick like boot to the gut. God. Fuck yeah.

Immediately, Bucky gets a handful of Steve's ass, grabbing and spreading.

"Look at that," Bucky groans.

He's wet. He's swollen. He's obscene.

Steve sobs. His thighs falling apart wider, begging for it with his entire fucking body. Using his pretty curves and muscles for pure evil. Winding Bucky the fuck up.

And, fuck, he can't miss that sight, either, so he gives up the vice-grip he has on those round fucking cheeks (but not before slamming back into his slick heat) and instead gets a handful of Steve's blonde hair, tugging it yanking head head back with each thrust, staring, eyes heavily lidded, at that fucking dumb look on his face. Flushed red. Sweaty. Eyes rolled back. Mouth wide open. Chin wet with drool. Every breath a pant or whine or moan. He's not fucking holding himself up. Bucky is doing all the work. Fucking him. Making sure he can see the sin that is Steve's face perfectly. And Steve is just...

Just here.

Dumb.

Just letting this happen to him. Going with whatever Bucky wants. Letting Bucky use him like he's a stress ball and Bucky has had a terrible, fucking awful day. He sure is brainless as a little stress-relief toy. Malleable like one, too. Bending whatever way Bucky wants him to. Taking anything Bucky gives him.

His whole body quivers. His useless body. He's the picture of uselessness. Helpless. Every muscle has been liquified. He's a puddle.

It turns on Bucky because sometimes Bucky is fucking awful and he just can't help it. He likes his Stevie stupid. Sugar filled and gooey. Sweet like the most mouth-watering dessert.

Bucky cums in him again.

Wetter. Fuller. Stupider.

Steve takes it. He takes it gorgeously. Jaw hanging open. Chin wet and shiny with drool. Cheeks hot red. Lips hot, hot red and swollen.

Quivering head-to-toe. Golden hair a fucked mess, strands hanging over his forehead and plastered in place by sweat.

Shit.

Just one look is enough for Bucky to want to start all over again. Cowgirl. Missionary. Doggy style. Cowgirl. Missionary. Doggy style. C--

He's gonna fuck Steve until he can't keep going anymore. He's gonna fuck Steve until he screams himself raw. He's gonna fuck Steve until he cums straight through his pretty little cage whether he wants to or not--its Bucky's anyway. His orgasm. His cock. They're Bucky's. Steve's too simple to know what to do with it, so Bucky has to take responsibility.

The only thing Steve knows is the back of his eyelids, he can't manage to open his eyes. The only thing he knows is gasping for breath. The only thing he knows is drowning in molten lust. Which way is up? Which way is down? It doesn't matter! All that matters is Bucky, Bucky, Bucky BuckyBuckyBucky. He cries silently, choking on nothing, unraveling completely.

So, yes.

Stupid 👏🏻 Fucked-Out 👏🏻 Steve 👏🏻

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Headmaaaaster! Library inventory is finally done! We're missing three books - Architecture of the Shaftlands, Properties of Blot, and Obscure Facts on the Great Seven. Should I hunt down who borrowed them last? Ooh! Can I take Floyd with me? Or maybe Riddle? I'm not very intimidating on my own, but - ooh, actually! Lemme take Epel! He's wild! We'll get those books back for sure!

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm to complete your librarian work to its fullest, however…!” The headmaster’s feathers stood on end, agitated. “There really is no need for you to go to such lengths to retrieve missing books! Intimidation should not be a factor to consider!!”

"Aww, it's not?" you pouted, visibly deflating. "But it'd be much more efficient than just going up and trying to pry the books from their hands!"

"We are talking about your fellow students!" Crowley chided. “Yet you speak of them as though they are not your peers, but wild beasts to be 'hunted', animals to wrangle, savages that will go at each other's throats at the slightest inclination! We are far more civil gentlemen than that, I assure you!"

“Eeeh, that’s not what I recall,” you pointed out, patiently rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Floyd squeezes people, Riddle collars them, and Epel kicks their as—”

“Civilized gentlemen!!” Crowley repeated, cutting in. “While I’m certain our students are dedicated to the pursuit of learning, I doubt any of them would so fiercely defend a book! Why, just the other day I had to rescue one from being callously tossed onto the ground! ‘Lame read,’ the student had said—can you believe them, desecrating valuable knowledge like that?!

“In any case, there are already measures in place to punish those who fail to observe our rules. If a borrower does not return their items or significantly damages them, they must pay an associated fee to the school. You see? There are non-corporal ways to penalize rule breakers, while simultaneously filling our coffers~”

“There will be no squeezing, collaring, or ‘ass kicking’! You’re to secure those missing books through nonviolent means. Do you hear me? NONviolent," he stressed.

“Yeeees, sir,” you drawled unenthusiastically. The hand behind your back had two fingers crossed.

A lie.

The headmaster wouldn’t have to know, right?

[sirmontague48]

Have my Sir Handel AuDHD headcanons.

Firstly though, these are all my own opinion (as usual) for my own version of Sir Handel. These are not official, and I am not attempting to diagnose anything, these are just light hearted headcanons.

Also a content warning for mentions of self injury in the context of a meltdown and violence in the context of a tantrum. I've tried to describe it as briefly as possible, but I'll give a heads up anyway.

Returning to the headcanons (I'll put them under a cut since there are so many):

Sir Handel has AuDHD (autism and combined type ADHD) and dyspraxia. He was diagnosed with all three when he was 20. His family was fine with it, and they thought that it explained a lot. Had they have known about neurodivergent conditions, they would have gotten him diagnosed a lot sooner. They understand him a lot better, since before they thought that he was just eccentric and had odd behaviours.

•He sometimes uses a cane to help with his balance. The others joke that he needs his cane to balance his big head.

•He has very intense emotions and struggles to control them.

•He really struggles with change.

•His special interets are fashion, gaming, horses, vintage trains and royalty (historical and modern).

•He sensory seeks a lot, often in different ways.

•He has his own rage room. It helps him a lot.

•He makes sound effects a lot (which is him both stimming and sensory seeking).

•He struggles to control the volume of his voice, especially when he is excited or angry.

•He has both tantrums and meltdowns. If he can be easily calmed after getting what he wants, then it is a tantrum. If he cannot be easily calmed, even after being given things that he likes, then it is a meltdown. His behaviour is also different for the two. For tantrums, he shouts, hits and kicks things, stands or sits where he is, refusing to move and mocks those who try to reason with him. For meltdowns, he repeats the same words or sentences over and over, mainly of the things that are overwhelming him, hits or scratches himself, runs off, sits on the floor in a ball, rocks back and forth, starts crying and becomes unresponsive and unable to speak. It can take a while for him to recover from a meltdown. He has learned how to adapt to his environment and understand when he is overwhelmed, so he often walks off to prevent a meltdown. However, this does not always happen due to him getting carried away with what he is doing and not noticing that he is overwhelmed.

•He is forgetful, especially with things that he is not very interested in.

•He did not speak until he was four years old.

•He is either very social or not social at all, there is no in between. Most of the time though, he is not social.

•He has his own way of socialising, which is considered odd by some.

•When he meets someone for the first time, he says "hello, who are you?" and then once they introduce themselves, he then rambles on and on about himself and his interests.

•He has poor pain perception and spatial awareness.

•He is not brilliant at social cues.

•He has a poor short term memory.

•He does not have the best social battery, and gets grumpy and leaves when he has had enough of socialising.

•He prefers to be alone.

•He prefers to live alone, and does so in his large mansion.

[itjazzbicch]

Battle of Egos

Pairing: Kung Lao x Fem Reader

First time writing for Kung Lao so I hope I did well!

Summary: After dealing with Kung Lao’s teasing, the reader decides to boost their own ego and show Kung Lao that she can take charge in the bed room too…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!) Established relationship, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it people!)

Word Count: 0.5k

“I’m sick of your arrogance, Kung Lao.”

He was always talking a big game and I had enough of his teasing, going straight to our bedroom the moment we came home from Madame Bo’s.

“I’m not arrogant. Just confident. I know what I’m capable of,” Laid back on the bed with his arms above his head, kicking off his pants and briefs.

“And tonight,” I boosted my own confidence and cockiness as I stripped out of my clothes, “You’re going to see what I’m capable of.”

“Show me what you got then,” He smirked, licking his lips.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I winked, crawling on top of him, kissing where he always grew weak in the neck while slowly sinking onto his cock, already getting soft hums from him.

To begin, I swiveled my hips slow, creating a sweet burn between our hips, Kung Lao always teasing me:

“Need help, love?”

“Help?” I laughed, sitting up straight, growling through my teeth as I began bouncing on his cock, “I’m going to make you eat your words.”

“Sure-“ He tried laughing sarcastically, his eyes shutting tight, his relaxed breathing turning into soft pants the fast I went, letting a few moans leak out just to add to it all.

Our wet skin slapping became the loudest sound in the room, my hips smacking his so hard that the bed creaked, the hands fixed behind his head soon trying to latch to my hips.

“What’s the matter? You got so quiet all of a sudden,” I was the teaser now, picking myself up to just leave his tip.

“Nothings wrong at a-“ Teasing the bell out of his tip, mid-sentence, I dropped back onto every inch of his cock, moans mixing with a laugh as he moaned, “Ah, fuck!”

Rubbing his chest, I rocked back and forth hard, asking:

“Too much for you?”

Shaking his head quickly, his hands latched on his hips and gripped on like his life depended on it:

“I’m gonna cum if you keep going like that.”

“Isn’t that the point?” I laughed, sitting up straight and returning to relentless bouncing, feeling his cock throbbing.

“Ngh, I’m g’na cum,” He kept repeating, ours hips sinking further into the bed, focusing on my own orgasm before he got to his.

“Not gonna let me cum first?” I huffed, putting on my sweet voice, knowing he felt how my walls were spasming, moaning down to him, “I’m cuming, Kung Lao!”

“Ah! Ah!” He was shaking at how I slicked his cock, balls, and thighs, immediately seizing up after a hard shake, pulling his hips back and picking me up by the hips.

I had to giggle at how hard he came, seed shooting clear up to his chest, twitching and leaking even after he was done.

“Dear goodness,” I giggled, stroking his cock softy as his cum still oozed, “I don’t think I’ve ever made you cum this hard.”

“I need a s-second,” His chest heaved, holding my hand as he was still sensitized.

“It’s okay,” I climbed up next to him, laying down and kissing his cheek, “We can call it a night.”

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

[adore-laur]

SUMMERBOY

— a summery southpaw flashback🍦

——

JUNE, 1987

Cocoa Beach was where Harry first laid eyes on the prettiest girl he had ever seen. 

On a sunny day by the ocean, he admired her through the flimsy mesh of the volleyball net during a recreational game of girls versus boys. Her painted toenails stood before the serving line that had been drawn by gliding a piece of driftwood through the scorching sand. She wore a clementine-colored bikini while her golden hair fell over the straps in majestic waves. She was so ethereal, with the sun shining down on her and accentuating the natural beauty she lavishly possessed. 

She managed an effortless topspin serve, the smack of her palm against the leather ball in perfect time with the start of a song about emotions in motion coming from a nearby boombox. 

As for Harry, his emotions were thoroughly in motion. 

A dollface like hers was rare. With tan, satiny skin, dark brown eyes, and plump lips of absolute perfection, her features caused his stomach to erupt with summertime butterflies. Thankfully, the sunglasses he had on hid his blatant ogling. He didn't even know her name or where she was from, but he had a strangely intense feeling that told him he was meant to find out. 

Thwack! 

Without warning, the volleyball hit Harry square in the forehead. His sunglasses flew off as his ass fell backward onto the sand. His vision blackened around the edges while his brain experienced a high-magnitude earthquake. 

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" 

His ears rang, yet he could barely make out a soft voice laced with concern. Some of his friends crowded around him, yet one person nudged their way through, like how the sun gloriously peeked past the clouds that morning. 

Oh, it was the girl he'd been admiring. How terribly embarrassing. 

"Y-yeah," Harry stuttered. He rubbed his pounding temples and blinked fast to clear his blurry sight. "All good. You have a powerful serve." 

Doe-like eyes stared at him apprehensively. "Do you feel dizzy? Should I call an ambulance? Is the sun too bright for you?"

"No," he replied, laughing. "I'm sure I'll just have a bruise. No need to worry." 

She crouched and moved her dainty pointer finger back and forth in front of his face. He followed it, mesmerized. After repeating the motion a few times, she said, "Okay, your eyes seem to be focused." 

He bit back a smirk. "I'm glad they are." 

"What's your name?" she asked, ignoring his charm.

"Harry Styles." He gave her his best dimpled smile. "What's yours?" 

Gently touching the bump forming on his forehead, she continued, "And how old are you?" 

"Nineteen." He would have been lying if he had said his skin wasn't on fire, with heat blooming everywhere. "What's your name?" he repeated.

She pursed her pretty lips in thought. "What day is it today?" 

Harry quickly realized she wasn't trying to get to know him—she was conducting a memory loss test. "Uh... Sunday," he answered defeatedly, his ego deflating a little. A lot, actually. 

"Well done." She dusted off her sandy legs and stood up. "I don't think you have a concussion. Just some slight swelling." 

"Thank you, nurse." 

She narrowed her eyes and sassily put a hand on her hip. "However, you need to stay hydrated. Here, let me grab my orange juice." 

"Your orange—" His dream girl was off and running under the volleyball net before he could speak any further. Wiping sweat from his hairline, Harry waited patiently while grooving along to the rock music playing from a group of teenagers' boombox farther down the beach strip.

When she returned, his body delightfully shuddered at how her skin seemed to glow under the summer sky. Thrusting forward a clear bottle of orange juice, she said, "My name is Sawyer Clemente, by the way." 

Sawyer. Such a unique name for someone who felt so familiar to him. He wouldn't have minded if those two syllables rolled off his tongue for eternity. 

"Thank you, Sawyer," he chirped, taking the ice-cold bottle from her. He held it up to his parched mouth, but right before he took a swig, he asked, "Pulp or no pulp?" 

"No pulp," she said, tapping her acrylic nails against her arm. "I'm not a psychopath." 

His head lulled back as he smiled lazily. "Whoa, am I hallucinating? I think you're perfect for me." 

She snorted, unimpressed, yet a pink flush colored her cheeks. "Are you seriously flirting with me?" 

"Dunno. Do you want me to be?”

"Not really. I have a boyfriend." 

Harry swore under his breath. "Is he nice to you?" 

"Yes, he is." Sawyer glanced around and furrowed her eyebrows when she spotted her friends abandoning the game and congregating near the water. "Well, I'm going to get ice cream now. I’m truly sorry about hitting your head." 

He should have been thanking her since he didn't know if he would have been able to find the courage to talk to her otherwise. Typically, he could walk up to anyone and strike up a conversation, but something about her made him the good kind of anxious.

"Are you up for a game of 1v1 volleyball?" Harry asked abruptly, hoping he could suggest a way to spend more time with her without sounding like a desperate loser. 

"No, thank you," she said politely. "Boys play unfairly. Plus, it's hot out, and I need something to cool me down." 

She was off again, like some unreachable enigma he couldn't quite grasp. Her steps were delicate, and her wavy hair bounced with each one. Harry forgot where he was for a second while getting lost in her movements. She was captivatingly magnetic, and it would be a downright shame if he never saw her again.

Blinking out of his trance, he watched her head over to an unoccupied beach umbrella close to the shore with a melting ice cream cone in her hand. Would it be annoying if he walked over there? Possibly. Was he going to do it anyway? Absolutely. 

Harry got up, taking a few seconds to restore his balance, then jogged over while rubbing his forehead to ensure there wasn't a huge bump. That would have been the pinnacle of embarrassment. 

Once he was next to Sawyer, she looked at him unamusedly. "This better be worth it, summerboy." 

He was the one blushing now. "Hello. Hi. Vanilla, right?" 

"It's Sawyer."

Harry swallowed, internally panicking, and scratched the back of his neck. "I meant your ice cream flavor." 

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. How were they able to do that when they were so dark? "Yeah, I know," she said casually. "I was just joking." 

"Oh. Oh, my bad." 

Scrunching her nose, she giggled quietly. "You're funny. I've never met a boy like you." 

"What's a boy like me?" he asked.

"Someone I could be friends with. You backed off when I said I had a boyfriend. That was nice of you." Sawyer licked her ice cream and shrugged nonchalantly. "It's rare for Florida boys to take the hint."

"You'd want to be friends with me?" 

"If you want," she mumbled around a bite of her wafer cone. 

"'Kay. Sick." Harry nudged her elbow with his own. "Let's be friends." 

"Are you in the mood for a friendly game of chicken fight in the water?" 

"Duh. If I win, though, you have to go out to eat with me. Friends need to get to know each other, don't they?"

Sawyer smiled and threw her hair in a ponytail. "Deal." 

——