#I can't even coherently write tags

[niuxita21]

One day I’m gonna write a book. Can you imagine? A novel about everything that you and I have gone through? [Mariana laughs] It would be called “Ana and Mariana.” We’re going to be free soon, and we’ll be able to reinvent ourselves. So I’m sure you’re gonna write that book, and it’s gonna be awesome. We’ll see what happens. We have to let things flow, right? I think your novel is gonna be one of those that are pretty dark. Maybe one of those that are so romantic that you can’t put them down?

[mosspapi]

I can't tell if I'm just having a massive costo flare or if I've actually dislocated and/or cracked my ribs somehow.

I know I need to ask my parents abt it but I had a massive argument with my mother about it earlier today because apparently the reason I have chronic pain is because I don't take Advil (absolute bullshit on many levels and she knows this but she refuses to admit when she doesn't know something), so I don't want to have to deal with her again but also I don't want to leave this if it IS a bigger issue ya feel.

Like it feels like just a really bad flare, but they don't normally last for 3+ days in a row, 24/7, at the "sharp, hard-to-breathe, plus aching, plus reduced mobility" level. That type of flare usually lasts at most a couple of hours. So I'm concerned it's a bigger issue than that, but I'm also paranoid about health things so idk if I'm overreacting ya feel?

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Untitled

Author's Note: Not requested of me specifically, but I did promise to write a lil something something featuring Michi and rougher sex. So, here it is!

Pairings: Takemichi x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Takemichi, rough sex, dacryphilia, pillow princess Michi, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation

Tagging: @wazabii @hxpel3s5-slxxt (if you'd like your tag removed please lmk!)

“Aah-!” Another shrill scream bounces off the walls of his bedroom, proceeded by a sharp slap.

Your ragged panting is barely audible over the sound of your hips beating Takemichi's ass — his skin turning an even deeper shade of pinkish red with every collision.

“Fuck, haha... look at you, baby,” you rasped, “look at you taking me nice 'n deep like that. I told ya you'd be able to handle this dick.”

The words didn't quite make it past his lips, instead turning into a whimper that tumbled out when Takemichi tried to protest. He's always so coy — "nooo it won't fit! You're way too big!" he'd say, despite the fact that you regularly wreck his holes. I mean, yeah, you were pretty thick down there, but your partner has proven time and time again that that's not much of a problem.

Even now, as his nails dig into his sheets and tears stain them, Takemichi's walls grip you like a vice; pulling your cock further inside with every motion. And the way his once coherent speech turns into babbles, all because you're rearranging his insides? Priceless.

“Ah fuck-! Mm yeah, take it, baby. Take daddy's cock-” It's all the little slut can do to keep his hips up in the air; his legs may as well have become jelly at this point with the way his thighs shake when you pull back — nearly pulling out — then snap back as if there's some magnetic pull between you two.

Your little pillow princess is full-on sobbing as his teeth grind against the fabric of his sheets. Yet another slap to his ass and Takemichi somehow cries harder, getting choked on his own spit.

Meanwhile, you have been holding back, desperate not to cum just yet so that you can stay inside your lil princess for a while longer. But that ache deep inside of you has only built up, exacerbated by Takemichi's tight hole wrapped around your dick. If only he didn't feel so fucking good, then maybe tonight could last a little longer...

“Gonna fuckin' cum... Hah... Where does my little whore want it, huh?”

No response. Only a drawn out whine where Takemichi's face is buried in the mattress.

You can't stifle the laugh that comes out of your mouth. “Inside it is, then. Ngh-!”

With a few more deep thrusts, you finally explode inside your partner — gushing white, hot ropes that fill him up as you grab a handful of his hair and push his head down further, cutting off the pathetic thing's oxygen for a moment.

“O-ooh shit... haha... damn, baby, you took everything I had, didn't ya?” You tease, exhaling the breath you'd held in during your climax.

Your hands slid down your darling's back, moving towards his hips to rub soothing circles on the skin, then roaming over more of his smaller body — Takemichi's breathing steadies as you do this, gradually calming down until his muscles release their held tension. After a moment, you pull out, leaving your partner's hole gaping, as you usually do, and leaking a fat glob of your cum.

Rolling over onto his side, Takemichi searches for your hand; which you happily oblige him, and meet his touch. Your thumb brushes over his knuckles and you lean down to kiss them before laying down next to him.

“You ok?”

He nods. “Mhm... felt really nice...”

A smile spreads across your face as you watch him blink lazily; best to help him over to the bathroom before he falls asleep, or before you fall asleep, for that matter. And after you're both cleaned up and relaxed, you'll have a little rest together.

Before you roll over and out of his bed, you place a tender kiss on Takemichi's forehead, giggling along with him.

[wonderlandwalker]

He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known

Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika

He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 

He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.

Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 

He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 

It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 

And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.

“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 

“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 

“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.

And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 

Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 

The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 

And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.

After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.

“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”

The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 

He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 

He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 

He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.

But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.

Part 2: Should've Known

[sodavizz]

I Own You.

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This is part two. Part one is here > ★

Pairings. - Vox x gn!reader.

Summary. - You sell your soul to Vox, but he wants something in return of course; Your body.

(Disclaimer! – 18+ content, mdni. What content you consume is not my problem. Characters that I will write do not belong to me, and rightfully belong to Vivziepop.)

TW. - Vox being a total perv, obsessions, dirty talk, swearing, ooc Vox?, pure smut, creampies.

AN. - This is the last part. I'm not gonna write more parts lol. Still trying to figure out how to do this shit ❤

Word count: 432 words...

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Ever since you sold your soul to him. You started to work at Voxtech, of course. And every time you do something very well, he makes sure to give you a reward.

Vox makes sure to take full advantage of this, by bending you over any chance he could do so. You're busy doing something? He's pulling you to a nearby storage closet. Doing nothing in your room? He's pulling up to your room, spending the whole night with you being his personal cum dump, to the point you could barely walk. Just woke up? Easy, morning sex.

He makes sure you both have done every position he could think of. Cowgirl, missionary, against the wall, doggystyle, and even at his office most times. He's terrified that someone might hear you both, especially the other Vees. So he makes sure to lock the doors securely and keep you quiet.

———

"S-sir..." You said as it's the only coherent word you could blurt out, as Vox pistons into your sensitive hole. Besides your tired moans, the lewd sound of flesh smacking against flesh is all that can be heard within his room. You've been going on for a couple of hours but he’s so pussy drunk he can’t think straight. All he wants is to feel you around his cock... You wouldn't let him stop, would you...?

Well of course you can't stop him after the deal you both made. Not like you want him to. You love the feeling of the demon assorting his dominance over you and fucking your brains out every night. So here you are, with Vox slamming his hips into yours like its the last time he could do so. Hitting your sweet spot with every thrust as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Fuck. You feel so damn good.” He grunts as he leaned down to give you a rough kiss on your lips. His thrusts become sloppier as he gets closer to reaching his climax. “Oh Vox- Sir! P-please make me cum...” Your desperate pleas were all it took to push to his peak, shooting hot streaks of cum straight into your insides. You follow suit as you come for what you think is the th time already.

"Hah... Need more of you.." He groaned before starting to pound into you again. "Just need to... feel you for a bit longer... Damn, your fucked out face is getting me all riled up again. You’re tired, baby? I'm sure you could handle one more round.." He said before he starts going faster.

This is gonna take a while.

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Tagged: @it-gal888

[anna-the-undertaker]

The Boys reaction to a Blue Collar Worker MC who was summoned to the Devildom in nothing but a towel...

I finally did this after so long.... Idk whats happening but I've been on a writing kick recently so we will see how you all like my writing I guess lmao also we are ignoring how mammon wasn't in the room when MC arrives in game cause I'm lazy.

Tags: @lurkingblue @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

part 1

Lucifer

Lucifer's eyes narrowed as he took in the sight before him. A human, fresh out of a bath and barely coherent, standing in the heart of the Devildom, had the audacity to speak in such a manner. The request for clothes, food, and rest was delivered with a bluntness that bordered on insolence. Normally, he wouldn't tolerate such disrespect, especially not in Diavolo's presence. Lucifer prided himself on order and discipline, and this human's arrival was anything but. He could feel his patience thinning, a not so rare occurrence that he worked hard to suppress. This was the human chosen by Diavolo? His expression remained impassive, but the air around him grew colder as he spoke. "You are in no position to make demands, human. Consider yourself fortunate that Lord Diavolo is more generous than I."

How he looks back on it now: Lucifer, sitting with a glass of Demonus in hand, would let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I still can't believe that was our first impression of them. Summoned to the Devildom in a towel, dripping water all over the floor like they owned the place. And then—then—they have the audacity to demand food, clothes, and a bed as if they were checking into a five-star hotel. I knew from that moment that MC would be nothing but trouble... and I wasn’t wrong.”

Mammon

Mammon, caught somewhere between surprise and amusement, couldn’t help but let out a bark of a laugh. This human was something else. Appearing in the middle of the Devildom, demanding food and a place to sleep like they owned the place? Mammon could almost admire that kind of guts, if it wasn't so ridiculous. But he was also intrigued. They were obviously tired and out of their depth, but there was a spark of defiance in them that piqued his curiosity. "Hey, hey, maybe we should cut ‘em some slack, yeah? Look at ‘em, they’re about ready to keel over. Not exactly how I pictured meetin’ a human though…"

How he looks back on it now: Mammon would be laughing, practically doubled over. “Ya shoulda seen Lucifer’s face! He was so mad, but he didn’t know what to do! And then there’s MC, barely awake, tellin’ us off like we were the ones who interrupted their shower! They’re a riot, I tell ya. I knew right then and there—this human was gonna be somethin’ special.”

Leviathan

Leviathan blinked rapidly, trying to process what he was seeing. This was supposed to be the human exchange student? This tired, wet mess of a person who was talking like they had just walked into a convenience store? Levi was torn between feeling embarrassed for them and being mildly impressed by their nerve. But mostly, he just felt awkward. He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding direct eye contact, his facing burning with a fierce blush as he searched for something to hide behind. "This is so… weird. Like, who even does that? Walking into a place like this… in a towel? It’s like something out of a bad anime."

How he looks back on it now: Levi would be blushing, trying to hide behind his manga. “I mean, it was like something out of an anime, right? The clueless protagonist just casually demanding things from these powerful beings… it’s straight out of a ‘reverse isekai’ plot! But honestly, I was too busy being embarrassed for them to laugh at the time. Now, though? It’s kind of hilarious. They just… stood there, barely dressed, like it was no big deal!”

Satan

Satan observed the human with a critical eye. The situation was strange, even by Devildom standards, but it also presented an interesting puzzle. Who was this human to speak so boldly? They were clearly exhausted, pushed to their limits, but there was something almost… primal about their directness. It was as if survival instincts had taken over. "Interesting. They’re either incredibly brave or too exhausted to care about decorum. I wonder how long they’ll last here if this is how they start."

How he looks back on it now: Satan would smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I admit, I didn’t expect a mere human to have the nerve to make demands right after being summoned. It was… refreshing, to say the least. I could see the frustration in Lucifer’s eyes, and I knew I was going to enjoy having MC around. They didn’t bow down in fear—they just wanted a nap. Brilliant.”

Asmodeus

Asmodeus couldn’t help but giggle, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. This human was definitely not what he had expected. They were dripping water everywhere, their hair clinging to their skin, and yet, instead of being mortified, they were making demands. It was almost endearing in its own way, like a lost kitten mewling for attention. "Oh my, aren’t you just precious? But darling, if you’re going to make demands like that, at least do it with a bit more flair. Still, I think we can find you something more… suitable to wear or you could just lose the towel all together."

How he looks back on it now: Asmo would be giggling, twirling a lock of his hair around his finger. “Oh, it was such a scandal! A human, in a towel, dripping wet in front of everyone! And yet, they had this… effortless confidence. It was kind of hot, honestly. And their skin looked amazing—I was so jealous! I just knew I had to befriend them. Anyone who can pull off an entrance like that is someone I need to know!”

Beelzebub

Beelzebub’s concern was immediate but simple. The human was obviously tired and hungry, and those were things he could easily understand. He frowned slightly, glancing around the room as if expecting someone to step in and help. "They should eat something. And rest. They said they’re about to pass out. We can figure everything else out after."

How he looks back on it now: Beel would nod thoughtfully, his focus split between the memory and whatever snack he’s holding. “I just remember being really confused… and hungry. They said something about food, and I thought, ‘Yeah, I could go for a snack too.’ But they didn’t even seem scared, just tired and hungry. I get that. We connected on a deep level that day.”

Diavolo

Diavolo, on the other hand, was more fascinated than anything else and couldn't help the booming laugh that escaped him. The human’s arrival, so raw and unfiltered, was not what he had planned, but it was a glimpse into their true character. He appreciated the honesty in their exhaustion and the way they set boundaries despite being in an unfamiliar and likely frightening situation. "Welcome to the Devildom," he said warmly, his voice cutting through the tension. "We will, of course, ensure you are taken care of. Rest first, and we’ll discuss everything else when you’re ready."

How he looks back on it now: Diavolo would laugh heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, that was classic! I thought we were about to welcome our human exchange student with a grand, royal introduction. You know, something to set the tone! And then… poof! In they come, in nothing but a towel, demanding food and a nap! I couldn’t help but admire their spirit—who else would have the audacity to make demands of a demon lord? Honestly, I knew right then that they were going to make things very interesting around here.”

Barbatos

Barbatos watched with his usual calm demeanor, though his mind was already calculating what would be needed to accommodate this unexpectedly demanding guest. He was intrigued by their bluntness, a trait not often seen in someone so new to the Devildom. "It seems we have our work cut out for us. I’ll prepare something for them to wear and eat. This situation, unusual as it is, can be addressed once they’ve had the rest they need."

How he looks back on it now: Barbatos would smile subtly, a hint of amusement in his usually composed demeanor. “It was certainly… unexpected. I remember thinking, ‘Ah, this is going to be a challenge.’ I had prepared everything for a formal welcome, and suddenly I was considering where I could find suitable clothing on such short notice. But what really stood out was their confidence. They weren’t intimidated at all—just tired. It was almost endearing, in a way. Though I must admit, I’ve never had to prepare a royal feast for someone who was dripping on the floor before.”

The other characters after hearing of MC's dramatic arrival later -

Belphegor

Belphegor, still hidden away, was not present to witness the scene firsthand, but the way the human handled their introduction would later reach his ears. He would find it amusing, this tired human, dragged into a world they couldn’t possibly understand and still demanding rest. It would have made him laugh, perhaps even endeared them to him in a strange way, though he’d never admit it. “I think it's hilarious. They were so focused on getting some sleep, just like me. Honestly, I'm impressed. I don’t even care that they're human. Anyone who prioritizes a nap over everything else has their priorities straight in my book.”

Simeon

Simeon would laugh softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, MC. Only you could be summoned into a realm of demons in nothing but a towel and somehow manage to make demands! I can just imagine the look on Lucifer’s face. It’s impressive—you're like a stubborn ray of sunshine cutting through the darkest clouds. I’d love to have seen it!”

Luke

Luke would be flabbergasted, his eyes wide with a mix of horror and indignation. “They were summoned like that? That’s so unfair! I bet they were freezing! Who does that? Demons, apparently! But you know what? Good for them for telling those demons off! That’s what they deserve for being so unprepared. If I were there, I would’ve given them a piece of my mind too!”

Solomon

Solomon would be grinning, clearly amused by the whole scenario. “That’s classic MC—turning a moment of complete chaos into one where they’re the one calling the shots. I can just picture them standing there, dripping water all over the floor, and casually telling the future King of the Devildom that they need a nap. Honestly, it’s moments like this that make me glad I chose them as my apprentice. They’ve got the kind of audacity that most people can only dream of!”

Rapheal

Raphael, known for his serious demeanor, would hear about MC’s first arrival to the Devildom and probably raise an eyebrow, trying to picture the scene. "So, they appeared in a towel and demanded food and rest? Bold. Very bold." After a pause, he’d add with a rare smirk, "They might survive down here better than I thought."

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles, with his aristocratic air, would be caught between disbelief and amusement. “They really told Lucifer and Diavolo off in a towel? If only I could’ve seen that! The looks on their faces must’ve been priceless. Perhaps I’ll write a column about the ‘indecent’ summons of the human exchange student!” He’d chuckle at his own joke, imagining the uproar it would cause.

Thirteen

Thirteen, with her mischievous streak, would find the whole thing hilarious. “They really popped in like that? A towel, dripping water, and told everyone to get their act together? That’s brilliant! I would’ve loved to see everyone’s reaction. I bet Lucifer’s face turned fifty shades of red. I like this human already—got some real spunk!” She’d laugh, already planning some pranks inspired by the story.

[skele-bunny]

Anything Swissalps please!!

Rubs my grimey little hands together

(obligatory tag for @hypnoneghoul !)

Mountain doesn't really like the caterpillars and worms on his plants in the room, but knows they're very much needed. He's started to get used to them more bc Swiss names them and it's kinda their thing.

"Martin is fuckin' chowing down on this vera right now..."

"I thought Martin eats the peonies?"

"No that's his twin brother Jake."

"Oh.."

Speaking of the plants!!! Swiss is VERY accustomed to them. His stand in Mountain when they aren't there. Always super reactive and love Swiss so so so much. They love holding him, helping him with tasks in the room, and just making sure he's okay. Swiss used them for... Self pleasuring reasons and literally only a minute in before Mountain stumbled in with the biggest hard on ever. He then learned that day that, yes, Mountain can feel and know everything the vines are doing/receiving.

Mountain who courts Swiss with wreaths and bones, flowers delicately picked and meaningful, and even down to foraging for him. Swiss who doesn't know how to court besides quintessence, but it just doesn't feel right. So he does what he does best!! Makes a song for Mountain!! It's kinda an air/water thing, but it's so specifically him that it doesn't really need an elemental label.

I'm sharing part of my hibernation Mountain propaganda and y'all are dealing with it. Mountain is GONE during the winter and Swiss is his hibernation mate even tho he doesn't really sleep like Mounty does. Lottt of grooming, breeding, and feeding as Mountain is running purely on instincts and can't really form coherent thoughts outside of those instincts. He just knows "my mate needs to eat." "my mate doesn't smell like me and I need to fix that internally and externally." Swiss doesn't mind it as he's still able to get up and move around, sometimes leave the room for quick trips to the kitchen and back. Swiss usually curls up on Mountain's torso and he's held sooo tenderly by this big furry beast. He LOVES it.

Mountain wears glasses but he loses them a LOT. Swiss always has an extra pair on him just in case which has come in handy multiple times. Swiss always demands them back once Mountain is done using them. "I'm not letting you lose the only backup pair you have, dork."

Big boy is embarrassed about wanting to be topped, but ohhh Swiss knows. He knows. Loves putting Mountain in the most submissive positions like doggy, missionary, or a mating press, but fuck does Mountain love it. He loves feeling smaller for once, loves watching his yin on top of him just whispering the most embarrassing things you could ever think of.

I've talked about Mistress Judas a few times, Swiss' bdsm persona, but... With Mountain? Ohh at her feet for anything she says. She makes him feel stupid. Weak. Lower. Small. It's what he wants and needs, and she's more than happy to provide. Big on breath play, boot play, and her whip. Best aftercare in the world, and Mountain wouldn't have it any different as he's massaged and given such tender kisses, words, and affections.

Mountain who sees Swiss as his art form—as art itself. As yin and yang. As everything right in the world. Something something, he's so dumb in love he can't think and just writes all of his love frustration on paper and hands it to Swiss who keeps them safe in a folder he reads through a lot.

Something something they're so in love it's sickening.

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Something completely unhinged with Euronymous please 😭 like the reader riding and overstimulating him until he's crying and his orgasms are dry 🥺

Safe a horse, ride your black metal boytoy 🤠

Deathcrush

Summary: Looks like Euronymous gets really sensitive when overstimulated.

Pairing: Euronymous x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Bondage, Unprotected P In V, Overstimulation, Crying, Begging, Affectionate Degradation, Wax Play, Forced Orgasm, Implied Aftercare

A/N: Time to piss off some elitist, gatekeeping edgelords 😌🫡

Disclaimer - I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not writing about the real Øystein Aarseth. I am writing about the fictionalized version of Euronymus portrayed by sexyman Rory Culkin, please and thank you!

Tagging the gender neutral hoe squad:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @alalalaaallaaalaaa @star-milk-tea @milsthouqhts @roryculkinsbf @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl

"Ma'am, stop, please! Please, I'm begging you! I can't…", Euronymous whimpered into the candle-lit bedroom, "It's too much, please!"

His wrists pushed and pulled against black rope that you had used to carefully tie him up against the head of the bed frame.

The rope most certainly added a nice, aesthetic touch to the view in front of you. His pale, nearly chalk-white skin against the black forming a contrast pleasing to the eye as you sat on top of him, his achingly hard cock buried deep inside of you as you rolled your hips against his crotch.

"Oh, I think you can take more, sweety.", You didn't stop in your movements as you smiled down on him, droplets of sweat covering his forehead and his eyes practically pleading unto you, "You've been so good for me so far and you don't want to upset me, do you, Euronymous?"

"No, of course not, Ma'am. But.." His raspy voice broke as you clenched down around him, making him twitch involuntarily.

"But what, baby, huh? Use your words." You teased with slightly arched brows.

"It's too much, please. I just need a little break, pretty please!" He pressed out of trembling lips.

"A little break, hm? Is my little fucktoy feeling sore? Worn out from Ma'am riding you all night long, yeah?" For a few thrusts, you picked up the pace, waiting for him to answer.

"Yeah, yes, fuck, Ma'am, please! Just a little break!" He mewled, almost unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Okay, granted. A small, little break you shall have…" With that you halted in your movements, a devilish grin spreading across your face, because you'd certainly give him his break but only on your conditions.

"Thank you, thank you so much, Ma'am." Euronymous gasped, his chest heaving up and down with every raggedy breath.

"Of course, baby. What kind of Ma'am would I be if I wasn't listening and taking good care of my property, hm?", You let the palm of your hand wander over his defined chest, nails scratching softly, playfully, "You know I really like your chest, don't you? It's so pretty but I think we could make it even more beautiful."

Withholding a laugh, you watched his brows furrow in confusion, his facial expression turning from sheer overstimulation to questioning.

"C-could we?" He looked at you with widening eyes.

"Oh, yeah! Let's just take this candle right here…", You leaned to the side to grab one of the many candles from the nightstand and let it hoover above his chest, "And let's add some color to that nice, soft skin of yours."

With a carefully watching gaze, you tilted the red candle gently until little drops of melted wax tripped over the edge right onto his chest.

Euronymous hissed upon impact, the liquid turning back into a solid on his skin.

"Oh, that's pretty! You know, I'm feeling a bit inspired right now…" You grinned to yourself as you slowly started to drip the wax in the rough shape of an upside down pentagram onto him.

With each droplet he squirmed and squealed underneath you, actively moving himself inside of you again.

"That's not fair…" Euronymous whined, his eyes fluttering shut as the pain from the hot wax and the ongoing overstimulation triggered every nerve to fire.

"You're moving now, baby. I'm just giving you that break you wanted to have so bad." Your tone saccharine-sweet as you talked down on him like that.

"No, no, you're making me!" He sniffled, the first hot, few tears of helplessness gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, no, I don't think so. That's your needy cock thrusting into me right now and deep down you know that you just need to cum for me again." You taunted him in a soft tone.

"N-no!", His voice was sore and shaky as you continued to drip wax onto his chest, "I can't…I can't cum again, please."

"Nuh-uh.", You shushed, "We both know that you can, babe."

After you finished your burgundy red work of art on his body, you placed the candle back onto the nightstand. Resting on top of him, your cunt provocatively clenching and throbbing around his cock, you attentively watched heavy tears roll down the sides of his face as an avalanche of gibberish spilled out of his mouth.

"No, no, please, no. I can't do this, no, please. I'm so sore, Ma'am, please. I can't cum again, please. There's nothing left, I-" He sobbed under his breath as you picked up the pace again, rolling and rocking your hips against his lap, his cock thrusting into you in languid strokes.

"But why are you so fucking hard for me then, huh? Filling me up like the good fucktoy you are." It left your mouth in a low moan, as the tip of his cock stroked and nudged against that sensitive spot inside of you.

"I don't know, I don't…I can't…" Euronymous' voice cracked again, his entire body turning rigid beneath you.

"See? Just let go…cum for me, babe." You encouraged, trying to push him over the threshold for the 4th time tonight.

"It feels so good but hurts…" He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth in a whiny groan, surrendering to you milking him dry yet again.

With a guttural cry, he arched his back from the mattress, his cock pulsing and twitching inside of you as you pulled another orgasm from him. Moaning and whining, he squirmed, pushing against the restraints until you slowly stopped moving.

"I'm so proud of you, babe.", You leaned down to press a long kiss to his quivering lips "I love my perfect, little fucktoy so much. I'm going to untie you now and you'll get all the praise you deserve!"

[carmesi-butterfly]

thoughts on submissive gyuvin at 3:10 am

my first time writing smut, i feel like this turned out awful but i did my best ok 😔 because it's the first time i do it i don't know how to tag most of the stuff,, sorry

my random thoughts about submissive gyuvin. word count 591. warnings overstimulation, dumbification (?), sex without condom, finishing inside. no proofread.

"a-ah... i ca-ah! i can't believe you're doing this to me" were the only coherent words dropped from your boyfriend's mouth.

hours of overstimulation ended up with a destroyed gyuvin, his hair looking messy and his body all sticky covered by a mix of sweat, saliva, and sexual fluids of all the orgasms you took out of him, a few of them being yours too. poor gyuvin was being fucked so well by his partner that he couldn't even tangle two thoughts together to form a simple sentence, just babbling words as a way to express how fine it felt.

every bounce to his dick made him drop a moan as if it was an automatic setting in his body, please don't make fun of him, it's so hard to handle it :( your cunt sucking him for the who-knows-what time in the last few hours, milking him dry till the last drop.

"you think you can cum again, sweetie?" you asked, in such a sweet voice that made the boy think he could finish by only hearing you. the riding became more hectic, your pussy slamming into his dick harder, filling the room with the sloppy sound of your bodies roaming into each other, desperately looking for the so-desired orgasm.

"i can't, i c-can't" cried, his head moving from side to side, denying repeatedly. "it's too much..." his groans were accompanied by a strong grip on your hips trying to calm your peace, an act that was contradicted by his hips rocking with yours.

"you can puppy, just one more and we'll be done, you've been so good today" your words became more needy, one of your hands left his shoulder to caress his face and forced him to look at you, maintaining visual contact while reaching the last stage before ecstasy.

tears unleashed through his eyes, gyuvin's dick was so sensitive that it felt as if it burned him but at the same time the sensation came to be addictive, only you could make him feel like this, all submissive and dumb by fucking him senseless, how humiliating it was for him; being so big and ending up dominated by you. luckily for his sanity both your climaxes were around the corner, minds dizzy with pleasure and leaving all the work to your bodies, like animals fulfilling a primal desire.

between moans and muffled words, your boyfriend's orgasm came, filling your pussy up with his cum not before holding you strongly as an eager act to maintain you motionless, heavy breathing was the only thing resounding in a room where all kinds of vocal and corporal sounds could be heard just a moment ago.

"puppy, i didn't finish," you said, your faces being so near that your lips were almost touching. it hit gyuvin like a truck, dropping him out of the cloud that was taking over his mind and making him land in the real world, he knew what you meant by saying that. "i guess we will have to go for another round... if that's what you want, of course,” your lips brushed his, ghosting his attempt at kissing you.

he could be tired, overstimulated, sensitive and a lot more, but leaving you unsatisfied wasn't an option he was willing to take, mainly because of his pride, but secondly because despite ending up defeated by you and your immense sexual appetite he enjoys it, it would be a lie to say he didn't, you must be so happy! getting to ride your boyfie again while he whimpers <3

[scoobydoodean]

I feel like you’re one of the few people I’d trust to ask this of, but I always find myself wondering at the different reactions Dean has to hunting, i.e: Sam and others. Like I don’t think at all that he forced Sam back or was dragging him around or anything like that. But even way back then with Jo he was always like “get away from this life”. And still, especially early on, he seemed to be offended/angry that Sam didn’t like the life/want it for himself. I always personally understood it as a mix of sibling bickering like “ohh you think you’re so much better”, a front so as to pretend “hey everything is fine don’t look too closely” and Sam himself kinda conflating hunting = family and thus had to cut both out to be free of it, so in turn Dean also associated Sam walking away from hunting as walking away from family (reinforced by Heaven and Purgatory, later on, in slightly different ways) (although which came first and/or how much that was influenced by John first is ultimately a chicken and egg situation, I suppose). But I’d like to know if you have thoughts on this? Sorry for the long ask, I hope it was coherent?

NOTE: For anyone looking for commentary on Dean absolutely not forcing Sam back into hunting, my tags #sam the hunter, #sam the family man, and #in which... I am too lazy to write all that out may be of use.

So if I understand correctly, what we're getting at here is that Dean pretty consistently tries to talk people (especially younger people) out of the life or objects to involving them. For example, Jo (2.06), Adam (4.19), Jimmy (4.20), Krissy and her dad (7.11), Krissy's friends (8.18), Claire (10.20). He tries to protect Jesse and Cesar's retirement. But when it comes to Sam, Dean isn't so into trying to talk him out of the life.

To discuss the premise itself first, I can think of the following instances where Dean is hurt, skeptical, or displays some other sort of objection to Sam vs normal life: 1.01, 1.16, 4.22, 5.16, 8.01 (Pine's rewatch notes help me out here too). On the other hand, I can also think of many moments where Dean is supportive of Sam having a normal life or wishes that for him. Starting from 1.06 and 1.18, Dean says that he wishes Sam could just be normal. By 1.07, Dean is suggesting they just stay in the college town representing Sam's wistful desire for normality. I have a compilation gifset of these and a few other season 1 moments here. In 2.20, Dean beams with happiness that Sam is living a normal life and has Jess by his side—this is also despite the fact that he and Sam are estranged in the Djinn dream universe. In season 8, while Dean is hurt and angry that Sam left him to die and abandoned Kevin, when the opportunity presents itself for Sam to get back together with Amelia in 8.10 and go be normal, Dean tells Sam he should go to her if that's what would make him happy. In 8.14, Dean says he wants to do The Trials so that Sam can survive and go be normal. Basically what I'm getting at is that while moments occur where Dean seems hurt by Sam wanting a normal life or has some other objection, there are more moments where the exact opposite is true. This contrast also opens the door for questions about why Dean sometimes reacts negatively and sometimes doesn't (or maybe has to "come around" to the idea). The mixed bag suggests a lot of different and sometimes conflicting emotions, which is very realistic I think.

I don't think every single one of these reasons factors into every single one of the five episodes I mentioned where Dean seems hurt/skeptical about Sam + normal life, but here we go:

First, while Dean tries to push a lot of people out of the life and is also shown to crave a normal life for himself at various points (ex: 2.20, 3.10, 5.17), he does believe that being involved with the supernatural world is physically unavoidable for some people, and that it psychologically gets its hooks into others to the point they eventually can't get out/turn back (ex: 4.19). Jack, Jesse, and Kevin (and Sam and Dean themselves eventually) are examples of people Sam and Dean see as stuck in the life practically, because demons and angels are after them for reasons out of all of their control. However, Sam and Dean were both psychologically stuck in hunting first. For Dean, the house fire and how he was raised leave him feeling stuck in the hunting world. Sam doesn't remember the fire, but follows on John's heels when Jess dies in the same manner that Mary did. The trauma of losing Jess creates a commonality and drive that wasn't present before, causing Sam to say that he and his father aren't different anymore—in fact, they have more in common than just about anyone (1.20). On many occasions, Sam also talks about hunting as an inevitability/something he can't "come back" from at this point even if he wanted to (ex: 2.10, 4.19, 4.21). Closely interrelated, at various points, Sam also says that hunting has become a life he loves and/or prefers to normality (ex: 2.02, 2.20, 4.08, 4.17, 5.12a, 5.12b, 5.12c, 10.18).

Dean's language in 1.01 "Sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are" suggests part of Dean sees Sam as a hunter at the core from the beginning who is hiding from who he really is deep down. I think there is some truth to this (see my #sam the hunter tag). In that scene in 1.01, Dean generally expresses skepticism that Sam is really capable of leading the life he's trying to live long term. I think Dean also has reason to think that way, given that Sam outright admits he plans to lie to Jess forever... which kind of means Sam stays in the hunter mindset (where you lie to normal people every day to keep up appearances) and never really gets to be himself either way. Dean doesn't think this is practical or healthy and says so (and he's not wrong). All this to say—I think in 1.01, Dean has difficulty understanding that Sam has not (quite yet) fallen into the hunting world. Dean and John are kind of bonded by the shared trauma of losing Mary, but Sam doesn't share that trauma (as Sam himself points out on the bridge, saying he doesn't even remember Mary). Of course, that changes by the end of the episode. 8.01, Dean is just "?!?!?!?!?" because Sam has told Dean point blank on multiple occasions at that point that he prefers hunting to being normal (2.20, 4.08, 5.12) and has been overall rather into hunting, and has voiced the same thinking as Dean in regards to not being able to get out psychologically even if he wanted to (4.19, 5.12). There's a reason that when Sam says he doesn't hunt anymore in 8.01, Dean thinks he's joking at first. (I talk about why Sam left hunting between seasons 7 and 8 here). The thing is is that (unless driven by a burning desire for revenge as in the season 3-4 gap and the season 9-10 gap) Sam will not hunt without Dean. Not because Dean "makes" him hunt, but because Sam doesn't have the heart for the work without Dean by his side. (See the "I can't do it without my brother" 10.18 speech).

SAM: You know, when Dean came to get me at school, I-I told myself… one last job, you know? One more job. And then when – when I, um…. When I lost Jess, I, again, told myself one more job. There’s always one more job, you know? And one more job, and one more job, and then I was gonna go back to law and – and to my life. CHARLIE: You were the Dread Pirate Roberts of hunting. SAM: Yeah. I guess I really understand now that….this is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t….

Interrelated to the concept of hunting as inescapable and as something Sam voices his enjoyment of multiple times—in 1.01, Dean also (though part bravado) still romanticizes hunting to an extent (though not for much longer—we see this by the time he meets Jo). This definitely factors into how Dean approaches the subject in 1.01, though I don't think it factors into later moments.

Second, Dean is the heart character, and as the heart character, he feels a responsibility to protect people. When he tells Sam in the pilot "You have a responsibility", I think what Dean means is "saving people, hunting things, the family business". It isn't revenge that they have a responsibility toward (Dean will be the one to say he hopes they never find the demon if it means Sam or John killing themselves to end it (1.22) but that from Dean's perspective, Dean's knowledge of what's out there and his proficiency at the job gives him a moral obligation to try and save people in harms way. On the other hand, I don't think Sam feels this way—at least not nearly so strongly. Sam's approach to hunting has always been more family focused imo. Both brothers hunt as a means of coping to an extent, but more largely, Dean hunts because he feels deeply for others and wants—and even feels a duty to—protect people. Sam hunts because hunting makes him feel close to his family and makes him feel known, and because it is where he feels he can be himself (ex: 4.17). More succinctly—for Dean, the order goes, "Saving people, hunting things, the family business" and for Sam, the order goes, "The family business, saving people, hunting things" I think. This difference in motivations occasionally creates interesting tension on the hunt, but it is also creates confusion when Sam has left hunting pre-series, and again in season 8.

SAM: Look, it wasn't like I was... just oblivious. I mean, I read the paper every day. I saw the weird stories… the kind of stuff we used to chase. DEAN: And you said what? "Not my problem"? SAM: Yes. And you know what? The world went on.

8.01 "We Need To Talk About Kevin"

Dean doesn't understand this. He can't wrap his head around it because Dean doesn't think this way, and I'm not sure Dean ever gets exactly why Sam is driven to hunt. He doesn't really get the strength of the family connection for Sam... and Dean has reason not to, because from the outside looking in, Sam cutting Dean out of his life every time he decides he doesn't want to hunt anymore sounds like he doesn't actually care about Dean that much deep down... or at all. So how on earth could Sam's interest in and love for hunting be connected to caring about his brother DEAN???

That brings me to the third reason for some of this occasional hurt from Dean, which is that you're right about Sam (and then Dean in turn) associating normal life with cutting Dean off, because that's what Sam does. Any time Sam goes after a normal life, there seems to be no room for contact with Dean in it. When Sam goes to school, even though his fight was with John, it's implied that he wouldn't take Dean's calls which is why Dean showed up in person (1.01).

NOTE: This period is a little tricky, because the script was supposed to say they hadn't spoken since Sam left at 18, but what accidentally made it into the show is that they may have been in contact for the first two years. The two years wouldn't make things much better though, because with Dean's dialogue "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." It still seems like Sam is the one who cut ties.

In 1.16 "Shadow", when Dean brings up wanting to stay together and "be a family again" even after the business with the demon is concluded, Sam makes it clear he's returning to school—which is perfectly fine. However, buried within this conversation is the implication that Dean doesn't want to lose contact with Sam again, and Sam doesn't give any assurances about calling or staying in contact because... he plans to cut Dean off again, even while telling Dean he loves him.

"Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before. [...] I don’t want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way."

Dean looks at this and goes "?????" because how can Sam talk about how much he cares for Dean and then in the same breath, essentially say he doesn't want to see him anymore after this? That makes no sense... right? And the self-hating part of Dean who believes Meg's manipulative framing in 1.16 about him dragging Sam everywhere even though Sam has repeatedly been the race horse raring for revenge and getting angry when Dean can't pull leads on John or the demon out of his ass thinks maybe he IS somehow responsible for every horrible thing that has happened to Sam and how Sam's life is now. And Dean's insecurities are reinforced too because Sam has thrown it in his face that it's his fault in moments where he was angry and felt a loss of control. So Dean doesn't understand how hunting is actually positively connected to family and him for Sam, and Sam doesn't understand how Dean doesn't understand and doesn't know how to reassure him (5.16), and that's how we get Dean unloading his insecurities about Sam not loving him in 4.22 (to Bobby) and 5.16 (to Sam). In both discussions, Dean's lack of belief in Sam's care for him is closely connected to Sam's desire for normality and how Dean felt tossed away like garbage and like his efforts were never enough. I talk about the dialogue in 4.22 more in depth here (added context of Sam calling Dean weak for his trauma and strangling Dean near unconscious matters lmao). In 5.16, Zachariah (imo) repeatedly pushes the brothers toward Sam's memories of normality and being away from Dean as part of his psychological ploy, and it works even though Sam's strongly stated lack of interest in normality is (arguably) at its zenith (4.08, 4.19, 5.12) because the brothers relationship is so weak from season 4. If we didn't already get it, we as viewers realize Sam loves his brother very much and has many happy memories with him despite appearances in 5.22 when happy memories with Dean are what pulls Sam from Lucifer's control.

Another important episode here in regards to Dean’s perceptions of Sam's feelings versus how Sam actually sees Dean is 2.20 "What Is And What Should Never Be". There's a variety of things to be said about how in Dean's dream, he envisions himself as someone his family would look down upon even in a paradise scenario. However, one of the bits we get from the whole dream is that Dean believes that in normal life scenario, Sam wouldn't want to be around him. Dean envisions himself as kind of a terrible person (and as usual, he is being really ugly about himself in a way that isn't at all warranted), but undoubtably, there's also a classist stench to the scenario—Dean the blue collar worker, Sam the hot shot lawyer who looks down his nose at Dean. I don't doubt that deep down, Dean kind of believes the real Sam sees himself as upwardly mobile and Dean as beneath him. One of the ways Dean potentially forms that conclusion is how Sam treats him over money early in the series. That said, the REAL Sam is surprised by their lack of connection in Dean's "paradise". When Dean suggests that without hunting, they never would have connected, Sam makes it clear that he's glad they have.

But yeah! Those scenes in 4.22 and 5.16 aren't even about Sam wanting to be normal—they're about how Dean feels discarded every time Sam goes after normal (and it happens again in 8.01).

Lastly, Dean's also dealing with jealousy in a couple of these moments. Before we ever met him, Dean had his own wistful desires for normal (9.07, 1.06, 1.13). Safety and a home and normality were things he felt he couldn't ever really have (this also comes post-breakup with Cassie). Even in 8.10, when Dean tells Sam to get back with Amelia if he can, he adds,

And, you know, maybe I'm a little bit jealous. I could never separate myself from the job like you could.

I think this line leads directly back to Dean as the heart character who has extreme difficulty with the concept of burying his head in the sand—something Sam was able to do easily (like... too easily RE: Kevin). I think Dean kind of judges Sam for doing that, but at the same time, Dean also knows he has an overactive sense of responsibility—he just can't shake it despite knowing that (2.20, 5.11, 7.04). So he envies that Sam can even if he thinks Sam leans too far the other direction sometimes.

I also don't think this bit from Shifter!Dean in 1.06 was too off:

You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you? [...] See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me.

I think coupled with that jealousy in 1.01, we also see Dean's resentment, because he sacrificed everything for their family. He sacrificed his childhood to take care of his father who was a mess, and play mother and father to his brother, and he had a gun in his hand meant to kill before he was even 10, and Dean resents all of this. Dean was made to be the responsible one when he was just a child out of necessity, and John (someone Dean repeatedly calls a deadbeat in season 5) took advantage and then discarded him (a part of Dean does know he deserves better), and Sam cut Dean out of his life the moment he was no longer of use. It isn't just that Sam doesn't feel the weight of the burdens Dean was made to shoulder—Sam doesn't even seem to realize they exist, and Dean is resentful. He wants someone in his family besides him to shoulder some of the family responsibilities Dean has spent so long carrying alone. His feelings are misdirected toward Sam in 1.01 in that regard, but they're also very human.

Even so, Dean's love supersedes jealousy and resentment. We see this clearly in 1.18 "Something Wicked", which is all about Dean's childhood being stolen and him being burdened with responsibilities that were too big and blamed for people dying when he was just a child and it wasn't his fault, but at the end of the episode, Dean doesn't wish innocence for himself—he wishes it for Sam. Even though the episode is all about Dean's memory of his own trauma. And in 2.20, in his "paradise" dream, Sam gets to be normal, and he and Sam don't even get along, and Dean doesn't care—he's just over the moon that his brother gets to live a normal life.

[duckprintspress]

Sorry for being a little in the dark, but can you explain what happened with NaNoWriMo? Or at least point me towards some resources pls?

Hey anon!

Never apologize for that. Life is so fucking busy, no one can be apprised of everything going on all the time. Our brains would break even trying. Anyway, multiple things have happened with NaNoWriMo, but for the current debacle, the best answer is probably to read their own words as appended in a reblog to my original post about how to delete.

The TL:DR is, to paraphrase NaNo's own words (after they got a sponsorship from ProWritingAid, an "AI" company), they support using "AI" as part of NaNoWriMo, accusing people who disagree of being ableist and classist.

Having read both their statements, they at least imply that they mean "AI" such as grammar checkers, rather than generative "AI," but they don't actually clarify and it's at best ambiguous if they include generative LLM as being allowed and reasonable. When people got upset with them, they doubled down, saying things like "not everyone can afford an editor," which as someone who personally couldn't afford an editor and so taught myself to edit at a professional level over ten years, I'll own I find a fucking insane and insulting take. A lot of us worked our asses off to learn these skills, and it's not classist to suggest that other people...can learn too. But also...like...if I was certain they only meant grammar checkers, I might be a bit more forgiving (I mean, I use Word's grammar checker, though it's often wrong), but which LLM usages they're actually defending isn't clarified and they jump right to defending their position by tarring people who disagree with them as -isms, and that's some kinda bs argument right there.

To be clear, I think policies banning people from using LLMs in events like NaNoWriMo or on platforms like AO3 is an exercise in futility. Bans are unenforceable, and attempts to moderate will turn into harassment tools. The line between "work written by someone who isn't proficient yet" and "LLM" isn't clear, and policing that line would consume huge amounts of moderating effort for basically no benefit. IMO, for places like AO3 the best bet is simply transparency, as in, people using LLMs should fucking tag it.

To be clear secondarily, putting my "I own a small Press" hat, if someone sends us something verifiably LLM-generated, they will be permanently banned, but honestly, even something I can't verify as LLM-generated, like. Won't be good writing. It might be technically precise but an LLM can't generate a coherent story because it can't think or remember. It's just a word-probability engine. We've never had an LLM-generated submission to the best of my knowledge, but if we did, well. Ban hammer.

Anyway. Sorry. I got off topic. The point is, NaNo basically said we were all ableist and classist because we want people to write (even if they write badly!) for the...write a novel challenge.

And this made a lot of people very angry.

[visionsofmagic]

leon s. kennedy [re 4: remake]

⋆ leon needs you.

wc: 2.7k ⋆ tags: nsfw, explicit, biting, kissing, licking, sub!leon, dom!leon (just a little bit), dom!reader, fem!reader, moaning, using pet names, positions, begging. ‘s all I guess. enjoy! [had so fun while writing but I wrote in long intervals, so, it can be a little bit low at coherence.] ⋆ masterlist.

"need u." leon says, sounding so low - from far away even though he is close. he is on his feet while you are writing new information about the lake in a notebook on a wooden, clean, and dry table.

when you hear him, you turn around with the chair you sitting on, opening him a place to get in, standing right in front of you - his legs touching your knees.

"what?" you question, curious if you heard it right. "what did you say pretty?" you encourage him to speak loudly for you to hear and comprehend.

leon's pale face lightens with a pink glow on the cheeks, tries to avoid any connection of eyes, looking at your little exposed breasts as he speaks again, louder this time but still so shy, "I need you."

taking a look at him, carefully this time, you see some dry blood on his clothes and glowed hands, probably from a few unconscious humans in the town. his shoulders look tense through his shirt, his hands shaking a little, and an unreadable but straight expression on his face. the world you live in was hard to endure and times like this happen to you all the time.

you always like to make him calmer, better, but now you had a serious job to do and you let a sigh, getting up to pat leon's shoulder, "I need to do this leon. can you wait a little longer for me, hm?" you see the hesitation on his blue icy eyes, so, you add, "please?" you raise on your tiptoes, kissing his cheek as your one hand stands on his chest. "my pretty boy."

the nickname hit him, he likes to be called your pretty boy and it always works on him to become more patient for some moment.

nodding, he sits down on the chair you left, his elbows resting on his thighs, hair flying lightly, eyes all on you, leaving a burning sensation on the skin he is looking at.

taking a few deep breaths, you smile to yourself and turn to the work on hand.

as you keep going on with the adjustments, leon's patience decreases each minute and finally, he can't help himself but to touch your left inner thigh gently, the closer one to him.

he wants to feel you, you can see it clearly from the way his eyes become wetter with each passing time, but he has to wait.

"leon!" you say, lowly, as a playful warning.

he doesn't look sorry, so, he keeps caressing your inner thigh, getting closer to your ass from there and you leave heavy breaths because you too want to feel him. now you are in a safe zone - a zone hard to get and you don't want to waste it, especially when you have just a few zones like this on the entire area.

"l-leon." this time, your voice is full of lust and affection; want to get more but still have the idea of turning back to work.

however, when leon's palm is positioned on your ass, squeezing it gently, your mind went from the job to him, only him.

he gave another squeeze before moving on to your waist, making your body turn to him, then pushing you to get close 'till you are between his thick thighs as they closed briefly, caging you inside.

his other hand joined. both of them began to move freely on your body, exploring it like a hundredth time, curious yet already knowing every detail as his hands work professionally. he gives you lots of low moans that you even don't try to hide, letting leon know that he was doing so good giving you pleasure only with his hands.

then, getting confidence, his lips join his hands after he helped you to remove your top including the bra under it, leaving you half naked before him.

smirking under you, leon looked up at your face full of heat, knowledge of his own power on you giving him a boost, making him begin to suck your right nipple which was hardened in the pleasure you were getting from neon.

his eyes never closed, never left yours, challenging you to keep your posture still. and you did - you stood there like a statue as he sucked each nipple, squeezing them, leaving red marks on them that will disappear soon enough only to be replaced with news by leon again.

you left low moans and growls as he continued but getting impatient, you held leon's hair, pulling it and letting leon know you needed more - you wanted more.

understanding your gesture, he begins to lower down, kissing every skin under his lips 'till he reaches to your pussy after kissing your exposed abdomen.

he looks at you for permission to remove your pants and underwear too and you only nod, biting your own lip, feeling impatience growing up inside.

leon is good at using his hands and fingers, not only in battle but in these moments too. it always amazed you how fast he can get rid of the clothes on his way, under 10 seconds and you let him do whatever he wants for a moment; looking at your exposed body from head to toe while leaving heavy breaths and a few growls, worshipping you.

smiling, you begin to play with his blonde hair, its softness tickles your skin and he closes his eyes as he begins to kiss your pussy, giving a few licks from here to there, earning a moan and praise from you. "oh, good boy."

leon is a man of action and your praising increase his eagerness to take further steps, so, he lowers his head down, opening your thighs wider, taking one of your legs to put it on his shoulder and having enough space to eat you.

the scene is sinful; the moment is similar to a picture from a nasty magazine yet it feels like euphoria.

leon's tongue keeps giving you pleasure at a high level - as always. it doesn't take long for you to reach your climax, especially after leon's fingers join his tongue.

leon's eyes find yours, nodding a little, saying a silent 'go on, cum to my mouth' with begging eyes. don't want to make him upset, you nod, cumming to his mouth and tongue in a second, letting your juice flow from you to his face and to the wooden floor from there.

closing your eyes, you throw your head back, staying in that position 'till you come to your senses, feeling piercing gazes of leon.

looking at his messy and wet face, you think his attractiveness grows bigger with your juices all over his sharp but cute face.

caressing his hair with your left hand, you use your forefinger to lift his chin. making him look so seductively as your thump play with his lower lip, you say, "you were so good leon. so - so good."

he smiles fondly at your praising, proud of himself.

realizing his hardened cock, you chuckle, reaching to his cock and giving a few squeezes through the fabric of his tight pants. earning a growl from him, lust washes over your entire body. the heat in the air is remarkable – giving hotness to the skin yet it is not a burning sensation, it is rather a tickle to make one go crazy with the need for touch and pleasure.

with the need of him – he is already in need of you as he keeps saying and looks at you with puppy eyes, trying to make you agree with his plan, you put a kiss on his lips, and say, “if you want me so bad, you should take them off.”

nodding in a fast motion, he firstly removes his tight top from his body, giving a full sight of his upper body which is built well. leon is like a soldier – he is already good at killing possessed people, monsters, and so on. to kill them, he needs to be strong both physically and mentally which gives him an intelligent mind with good physic. you like – even love nearly everything about him. however, it hits differently whenever you see him like this; the color of rose rushing into his cheeks, blonde-grey hair moving freely thanks to his movements, a body portion of lots of muscles that you begin to touch slowly.

then, he gets a little up, taking his pants, including his boxer, staying with his nudity in front of you – having no shame while doing it but when he looks up – to your eyes, he blushes – more than ever.

finding it cute yet entertaining, you giggle, one of your hands finds his shoulder, and the other one stays on his neck, holding it not so roughly. “thought about preparing you in the first place but look at you,” you mock him, teasingly, pointing out the fact that with only a few strokes on his cock, he becomes hard enough for you to take him. “already?” chuckling, you make him try to hide his face from you but he can’t escape, not when you are about to take his cock deep inside your walls, giving him what he needs. “you weren’t joking when you said you needed me, pretty boy, were you?”

holding your waist when he feels his tip touching your entrance, struggling so hard not to make a move, waiting for you to let him have his way with you – but it is hard though, he admits inside his own head, especially when you look at him with such love and lust that he can give everything he has to you. he needs to be inside you, and you know it well. the fact makes you smile innocently, yet, you talk devilishly, “how much you needed me, pretty,” you ask, caressing his hair, “say it.”

“so much!” he nearly screams but stops himself in the middle, “so much, y/n, I need you so much that it hurts!”

“but you have me now, right?” another teasing. it’s just a perfect view of him when he has madness because of the lust you’re giving him.

“more – “ he looks at your lower part, his cock can enter with only one move coming from either you or him. “I can’t wait anymore!” he says in a lower tone, sounding alert. having a mixture of pleasure and affection in your tummy, you smile, and nod to leon who is watching you as if you’re his own prey and hunter at the same time – you’re making him lose his mind, and when you sit down on his thick and long cock without waiting for his action, he loses all he has from mind to soul, from the heart to brain – all of it.

“pretty.” you say when he closes his eyes shut, throwing his head behind, hands positioned on your waist, holding you tight, and not wasting any more time, he moves – oh, he moves so good that you feel yourself jumping on his lap from up to down – rapidly. leon, being a former police officer and current agent, has a power that impresses you every time you witness it, especially in these times, when he becomes a little bit excited – more than a little bit though, using your body, making you feel each deep, rapid thrusts he is giving to you; it’s all because he wants to prove himself to you so that you can see how much he needs this – you, how much he can give you euphoria that is needed, and how he can receive all the things you let him have.

“ahhh – y/n,” he moans loudly the moment your right-hand grips his neck hair, pulling it to see his face closer. starting to move your hips in sync with his thrusts, a jolt flows into both of your bodies, heavy breath sounds mixing with moans coming from each of you, creating an erratic atmosphere. “please, fuck! uggghh! –“

“you look so pretty like this, leon,” you say, connecting your foreheads as you lean closer only to make his cock buries further into your walls; hotness rising upon you. your body moves up and down in a fast way that you nearly hit his forehead with yours; growls, moans, and curses fly in the air like the world around you stops, only a reality in which just the two of you live remains. “the prettiest boy I have ever seen.”

bouncing on his cock, leon looks at your breasts which are moving as well, sparkles in his ice blue eyes. if you look carefully enough, you can see your own vision inside his beautiful eyes; chest exposed, heat and redness visible on your face, cock going in and out your messy pussy which is already dripping wetness because of how good he makes you feel.

when leon gets enough of this position, he gets up, holding you from the back with his strong arms, and he puts your ass down on the table – papers on it are long forgotten as he finds a better position to get into the further deep side of your pussy.

he begins to like being the dominant side now – still having a look on his face that says you have all the ropes of him, you always do. “fuck –“ he curses, eyes traveling on you as he puts his palms on the sides of your head. you give him better access to kneel down closer by leaning behind, your back touches the cold surface of the table, closing your eyes, nerves receiving pleasure at the highest level.

his cock hit your g-spot again and again, earning loud moans from you. smirking – probably proud of himself for earning such things, he keeps his pace, and without a chance to say it aloud, alerting him, you cum undone within seconds, milking his cock as his balls hit your ass cheek, his cock doesn’t stop with the pace – sending vibrations into your sensitive core, and a low chuckle comes from leon.

looking up, a sight in which leon has a proud yet still lustful expression on his attractive face – tears in his eyes because of the pleasure he is taking, sweat dripping, redness, all blushing. you know what he needs, so, showing an exhausted smile, you nod, “cum inside me leon. I need it – need you.”

his eyes stay normal for a moment before turning white – nearly, hips moving faster, thrusting with a non-stop pace, he cages you with his body. forehead hits forehead, you reach another climax – milking him once again and giving him a wetness with which he can enter in and out easily, growling, even moaning your name, “y/n! shit, ‘s too much – aaaah!”

it doesn’t take him long before cuming deep inside you, moaning like a madman, putting his head on your chest.

as his hot semen drips from your core into the table, you feel a hotness you only have with leon. being the reason you’re so weak, having a blank mind, looking at him with half-closed eyes, he can’t help himself but show a smile – a wide one, all happy, yet so childish.

chuckling at his cuteness, you say as you caress his wet hair, “you did so well, leon,” he smiles wider as if he can. “my pretty boy.”

holding your wrist, he kisses your palm while still looking at your eyes. “anything for my favorite lady.”

“cute.”

staying like that for a while – breathing deeply and rapidly to turn back to normal, wetness traveling on bodies, feeling shy all of sudden because of the current states of you two, chuckling from time to time, you have a great moment away from the cruelty of the world. he is a man who turns your comprehension of reality into something different – something that gives you peace and love contrary to the one you have. he’s the meaning of your life and with the looks he gives, you know he feels the same.

“let’s get clean, and then, let me show you my other skills in the field as well,” he says, giving his hand to you.

holding his hand, you chuckle, “show off.”

the end.

[hitomisuzuya]

Fatui!Dom! Scaramouche x fem!sub!Fatui reader. Smut. Established poly relationship. Cunnilingus. Wearing Scara's hat during sex. Yandere-ish? Possessive behavior. Choking. Degradation. Praise.

a/n: Welcome to #suzu after dark. These two pieces are going to be companion pieces. One is with Scaramouche and the other will be with Childe. I just wanted to write smut for them both lol. This idea got many pushes of inspiration. I had @kichikichiko indulge me with the hat idea and @xxventiswindblumexx indulged me further. So credit goes to these lovelies for the tonight's smut and tomorrow's smut with Childe. Enjoy😳 also tagging @that-one-gay-writer1227

"Ha! You look like such a fucking slut, right now," Scaramouche said, smirking as he sucked harshly on your clit. "And I fucking love it. I don't know who is more turned on. If it's you for wearing my hat during sex, or me fucking you stupid on that idiot's Harbinger jacket."

You see, you were in something of a unique situation. You were in a poly relationship with Scaramouche and Childe. You felt guilty but you wanted them both. And they both wanted you.

So, they reluctantly agreed to your idea of a poly relationship. They both got to be in love and obsessed with you and you got to have your way because they wanted you to be happy.

They soon discovered that being in a poly relationship turned them on. Why? Because it became a competition. Who could fuck you better? They got off on this on this little competition. They got to fuck dominance over you into you and you get to have them both. So, it worked for them both even though they hated sharing you.

It was Childe's turn to provoke Scaramouche. He had put his Harbinger jacket on you because you said you were cold. In front of Scaramouche. He knew the boy was just as crazy about you. And he got to use that against him and try and fuck you better later on.

Like Childe predicted, Scaramouche quivered with rage, jealousy, and lust.

"Scara! Please! I can't...it's too much..!" You pleaded, tugging on his hair, pressing his face into your cunt. Your finger nails buried themselves in his scalp, making him hiss in pain and pleasure.

"Shut the fuck up, slut. I know you are enjoying this! I'll take my time and decide when you can cum," he growled, making your clit twitch and throb. "Maybe you call me Master like the slut you are, I'll make you beg louder because I know you will!"

Scaramouche buried three fingers to the knuckle inside of you, sucking harshly on your clit. You whined and moaned, hardly being able to string coherent sentences together.

"You sound like such a perfect slut," Scaramouche laughed, relishing in how you cried out desperately when you watched him lick his fingers clean.

Pushing his fingers into your mouth, he made you gag on them by pushing down on your tongue. "Are you going dumb already? That's perfect!" He grinned, manic with lust as you sucked on his fingers.

Pinning your wrists above your head, he kissed you, harsh and passionate. You moaned as he thrust his cock inside of you. Every snap of his hips was deep, harsh and possessive. "You filthy whore, I knew you were getting off on me fucking you on Childe's jacket."

Your neck was starting to feel sore from the weight of his hat. "You are already drooling. You sound like a shameless slut, and I love it!" He bit down on your neck, grinding his teeth and sucking at a fold of skin, making your back arch in pleasure.

Scaramouche wrapped his hand around your throat, and squeezed, grunting when he felt your walls clamp gummy on his cock. His gripe was harsh and possessive. Your hands were feverishly groping around on his back, feeling your orgasm approaching.

Scaramouche batted his hat off of your head "I only did that because I knew it would turn us both on. Even though I loved hearing your pathetic babbling as you struggled to beg me to fuck you harder, I'd rather cum inside of you while I choke you."

Scaramouche was reeling in love. "Now just lay there and submit to me like a good girl while I put my scent all over Childe's jacket. Don't worry, you'll cum soon enough, slut."

The second he cummed inside of you, he let go of your throat. "Now, stop thinking and let Childe know at the top your lungs who is fucking you better while you cum."

For added dominance, he sucked harshly on your throat while you cried out for him.

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Ahhh I love your work! Every work of yours I’ve read has been absolutely amazing, you write so beautifully. I was wondering if I could maybe request a Revali x reader headcanons of Rito mating season or heat/rut? Have a wonderful day/night as well!

Hmmm okay, I think I can give you a few off the top of my head, sure! Since we're talking about a mating season, I'm going to write reader a female/afab/child-bearing capable perspective, if that's okay. There's a headcanon I have that will involve that aspect (so trigger warning for that too btw - I'll add it in in the tags but just an fyi!) I also added a little mini fic in there for funsies lol enjoy!

It's overwhelming for him. Being with you is the first time his heat has ever truly affected him before, so the experience engulfs the poor Rito man. It's a new experience for you both.

He's scared he'll hurt you - like...actually scared. For as headstrong as he can be and how well he carries himself, he very much is still a hero - and that means no harm comes to people that don't deserve it. Especially you - who he loves so dearly and would give his ability to fly if it came down to it.

His instincts are so strong he almost can't control them this time. There's a sensation in him that needs to breed you - take you over and over until he knows he's successfully put a child in you.

Should you decide to help him, he's definitely not going to be gentle. You'll likely sustain some scratches, rug burn, and a few hickies here from his love bites. He's giving in to inhibition here, running with something more primal and animalistic than either of you are used to. But if that scares you - please heed his warning and leave! He absolutely would not hold it against you.

Afterwards, he's very cuddly and it's then you'll realize that he's made a makeshift nest out of a bunch of soft things he owned: garments, shed feathers, even all of his scarves that he's owned through the years. He'll hold you to his chest (and his heart is beating FAST), his chirps and trills are quiet but against your body you hear him clear as day. It takes a few minutes for him to slip back into a less animal-like frame of mind, so forgive him if he doesn't answer any questions or respond to you coherently right away.

Normally Revali had never had an issue with mating season before recent - without a mate to call his own, the ruts were never something he couldn't handle. However, after falling for you, the creation of an unbreakable bond of love and trust changes things inside him. His Rito DNA senses the deep affection he holds for you and ultimately alters his internal biology to reflect as such. So when mating season comes around, you're both blissfully unaware at first. Until you walk into his hut and find him doubled over. The scent of you hits him right away, and in a very rough, shaky voice he begs you not to come any closer. But you can clearly see that he's sweating profusely, feathers fluffed and tousled. He's disheveled and groaning in what sounds like pain so immediately you're thinking he's injured...or worse.

When you try to approach him again he raises his voice to leave him alone. "Please!" he begs - and the red alarms in your head are blaring because he is not one to beg for anything - "I need you...t-to leave..." his head hangs and his chest heaves as he tries to keep a semblance of his decency intact, "I c-c-can't...pro...tect you..." You look at him confused, protect you from what? There's currently no danger! Scanning the room, you still don't understand. But then you remember, from a book you'd read a while ago that Princess Zelda has lent to you (just so you could understand Rito culture a bit better) - spring always meant mating season. Your eyes connect with the foliage that peeks just outside of Revali's window - an elder tree in full bloom. So Revali was-- "Let me help you," you offer, realizing now why he seemed so pained. You didn't think about the decision, didn't think about the repercussions - all you wanted was for him to no longer be in distress. The black pupils of this emerald eyes withered to slits. His breathing picks up, a few short huffs away from a hyperventilation. With the last shred of coherent thought he could must, he exhaled out, "I'll...hurt...you..."

Perhaps it was your bravery, or maybe your caring, stubborn heart that would shrug off your coat, laying it on the ground before him. Revali watches you through his exasperated panting, the erection in his lower garments straining terribly, though he's trying to hide it. The groan he lets out sends a chill down your own spine when you move to gently cup his beak in your hands. As soon as you understood what was happening, you knew the risk of staying there. "I don't care, Revali...I know what you need..." his feather take on a more purple shade as he flushes, "...And I want to help you."

You barely have time to undo the bodice portion of your dress when your hands release his face and you turn to undress, because he almost immediately pins you down. His rush on your body has you landing a little awkwardly on your chest and stomach, but it's soothed by the sensation of long, soft fingered-feathers caressing your sensitive skin. The Rito's beak pecks everywhere he can reach, even plucking at your sleeves to release more of your skin from your dress. You feel his taloned foot wrap around your ankle, not necessarily doing anything to you other than anchoring you beneath him. His winged digits pinch your nipples to stiffness: the combination of those pulses of electricity and the very obvious hardness poking at your backside have you gasping already.

His rut makes him impatient; you know this as you already feel fingers circling your entrance, half to rile you up further, half to make sure you're ready. But again - Revali is impatient, and so up goes your dress, over your hips. There's brief shuffling behind you and then just as you brace your hand around what would essentially be his wrist, Revali is already spreading your legs and sliding between them. The pressure of him inside of you has you keening, and you're thankful for the little bit of foreplay you were given, making you just wet enough to accommodate him. The wing that toyed with your chest was now crowding around your neck, pulling your body upright and flush against his chest as he took you.

Revali is far less than gentle, the rough huffs and deep chitters falling over your skin as he held you still: one wing wound very loosely around your neck, the other gripping your thigh for purchase. His beak nibbled at whatever flesh he could reach. "Re...valiiiiii" you whined out, breath hitching mid thrust. But he could not hear you, his mind so incensed with fucking you to fullness, more avian than anything else as he slammed his hips into you. Yes, he would bed you multiple times that evening, and in multiple positions no less, spilling his seed so deep inside you, even he wasn't able to get you pregnant - he was surely going to take you like he planned on it.

------

After all is said and done, you eventually wake upon a bed of soft clothes and feathers. As you look down you realize it's shaped meticulously, as though it was made to have a form. It was then you realize his need to mate had him go through all of the motions: including building a nest for his mate. You look up at your Rito Champion, the tufts of his feathers much more relaxed than earlier as he rests. Your fingers gently stroke his beak, and the pleased chirp he lets out warms your heart. His wings wrap around your frame a little tighter; your hands waft through the down of his chest. You've no idea if this means you'll actually conceive or not - but you do know you don't mind in the least. You love Revali entirely, you wouldn't have offered if you didn't, and you're hoping that making love to him through his rut was proof enough. His beak finds your temple, carefully nibble and peck at the strands of your hair as if to preen you - it makes you giggle, his animal instincts still showing out in small ways as he settles down into sleep.

You'd assess any repercussions of his rougher handling when you awoke later, right now it just felt good to be in his arms like this.

[melodygatesauthor]

Jonathan Levy - Random Horny Thot #1 - The Girl in the Front Row

NSFW

He'd spent night after night jerking off to your videos online. He watched you, pretty legs spread wide with a vibrator plunged deep in your wet little pussy. He'd fantasized about feeling your walls contracting around his girth, squeezing his cock while you cum over and over again. He knew he could do better than that silly piece of plastic, he knew he could do better for you.

When the new semester starts, and he looks up to see his new class, he nearly drops the coffee mug in his hand. There you are, sitting with your eyes down staring at your notebook and writing your notes. Jonathan gulps, mouth slack open and breathing heavily. Is he having an asthma attack? No...no he's okay...

Professor Levy knows he has to have you, and when all the other students leave, he tells you to stay behind. When you look at him with those big, curious eyes he feels his arousal building instantly. You're so pretty, and his cock aches with a need to be buried deep inside of you. He takes off his glasses and puts them on his desk.

He says your stage name, the one only fans of your work would know about, and then watches the panic wash over your face. You start stammering, unable to get out a coherent thought, and he can see it in your expression so he stands, putting a caring hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, you don't have to worry honey, I'm not going to tell anyone," he trails his hand up the side of your neck and he brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"Professor I-"

"Sh," he puts a finger on your lips, "you've given me so much, let me return the favor hm?"

Within seconds he's got you bent over his desk, door locked, cock buried to the hilt in your warm little cunt. He shudders feeling it grabbing onto him like it doesn't want to let go. He rubs the globes of your ass with both hands, grabbing them and spreading your cheeks so he can watch.

"Oh god, look at you. Thought about this a lot but-oh-fuck-never thought I'd actually feel you sweetheart. So tight..."

You're like putty in his hands, whining and moaning over the desk, holding on so hard your knuckles ache. He grabs your waist, gripping roughly, leaving divots in your skin.

His slow rolling motions get more uneven as he gets closer to losing himself. It's wrong, fucking a student, especially one two decades younger than he is, but he can't help himself, and you feel so fucking good.

In fact, you feel so good that he's embarrassed at how quickly he's spilling his hot seed inside of you, filling you so full you're making a mess of his classroom floor. He's not going to let you go unsatisfied though, not a fucking chance.

He doesn't even care that he's going to have to wash his own cum out of his beard before his next lecture, he's on his knees behind you, lapping at your hungry clit with fervor. You're gasping, breathing heavily while he slurps and eats everything out of you.

He makes good on his promise, giving you one of the same mind-numbing orgasms that you'd given him time and time again with your films in the privacy of his home office. You were such a mess when he was finished that your makeup was running down your face and your stockings were ruined.

"Keep this up honey," he leans in, beard brushing against your ear, "and I'm sure you'll do just fine in my class."

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

Random Blurbs Masterlist

[eris-snow]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

Tags: bakugou x gn!reader, fluff, comfort, crying, swearing (as usual)

Been feeling a little inferior to those around me lately. It's something I'm sure we can all relate to, so I hope this brings comfort to those who feel like they're never good enough. Katsuki Bakugou is surprisingly good as a comfort character.

Today was just not your day. You've had these days. The ones when you would feel like you were about to cave inward. The days that you feel your strong front collapse because of the stress and pressure you exert on yourself.

Today isn't any different. Everyone in your class is constantly testing the limits, sky-rocketing past boundaries, while you...well, you...

You're just learning how to grow and improve. U.A. is a school where you need to aim for the top if you don't want to be left behind. Because of this, you feel like you're slipping further and further behind in class.

Momo is good at academics. Shoto is good at combat. Everyone is improving while you're trying so hard not to seem like a failure.

You're not bad, per se. But just seeing your classmates overcome their own boundaries and overtake you sow seeds of deep insecurity in your heart.

Today, was the day something finally snaps.

Bakugou comes over to help you study, armed with assessment books and dons thinned-rimmed glasses that make him look more intelligent and more mature. He still yells, mind you.

Every time you get a question wrong, he screams his head off while pointing out where you went wrong. He waits for you to solve the problem, and if you get it wrong again, the cycle continues. Rinse and repeat.

It got to the point when you were on the brink of tears, drawing a shaky breath as Bakugou eyeballed you write your equations with a quivering hand. You knew you'd asked for his help, even mentally fortressed yourself to focus on what you can do to improve, but...

"Dumbass, come on! This problem's fucking easy, an idiot like you can handle it!" Bakugou barks.

It's a final nudge over the delicately crafted wall that blocks out your emotions. A droplet of sorrow weasels its way past your defences, and your dam breaks.

Tears of helplessness flood your eyes as they splatter on your paper, your shaky hand pausing as you attempt to control these overwhelming feelings of inferiority gushing out.

Bakugou's still here, he can see everything, you scream at yourself...but your tears can't stop flowing. You just sit there, frozen, with tears streaming down your face and a trembling hand clutching your pencil so hard it could break.

Bakugou practically reels at the sight of you crying.

"I-I'm so sorry, Bakugou, I just," You sniffled, nose getting clogged up. "It's just...I-give me a minute," Grabbing a couple of tissues, you hastily blow your nose, trying to salvage the scrapes of dignity you have left.

"W-We can continue now, I just-" You try to clear your voice, or at least stable it to some degree. "That was just-"

"Fuck work, Y/n," He states bluntly, noticeably calling you by your first name. He tosses the book off your desk, slams his glasses on it and spins your chair to face him. "What, in the name of everloving hell is going on? Nah, don't shake that pretty little head of yours. Don't you lie to me," He snarls, words softening. "You're going through shit and you're clearly struggling, so What. Is. It."

A new round of tears hit your eyes as you choke back a sob. "I just-" Your voice is barely coherent now. Your watery eyes meet his, and it makes your breath hitch.

Bakugou's eyes were glowing with genuine care. Under those piercing, vermilion-red eyes, you can see his raw intentions laid bare.

He cares.

The words spill from your mouth as you babble, forcing yourself to admit the things you've wanted to hide, deny or avoid this entire term.

How you spent the entire lesson on Mathematics just barely grasping the teacher's words.

How hard you've been working.

How everything you do or try still makes it seem your improvement rate is put on the lowest setting of a slow-moving conveyor belt.

And Bakugou just...listens. He sits there patiently with an attentive gaze, each word you say making his eyes gaze softer and softer until it reeks of empathy for you.

He lets you explain how you feel, and doesn't say a word as you stuff your face with tissues and strewn them on the ground.

"You done?" He asks gruffly when you stop talking, making you nod your head vigorously at him. His eyes narrow on you, "Good,"

In a flash, he stands up and grabs you, pulling you into his embrace as he wraps his warm, comforting arms around you.

"Now listen here, Y/n," He says, voice hushed but holding conviction. "I'll say this once and I'll say it until it gets into that thick skull of yours. You have no right to work yourself down that hard. I don't care what words you're branding yourself as inside that blasted mind of yours, but you are not a failure."

He takes a deep breath and continues. "You are fucking incredible no matter how stupid you think you are, and you're already working even harder than most extras in our level. So can you please stop hurting my Y/n and realise how amazing you really are?"

Your breath catches.

My Y/n.

You must be going deaf or something. There's no way in a million years that he'd call you that.

"Bakugou-"

"Say it."

"I-I-" You bury your head into his shoulder, stumbling over the embarrassingly confident words he described you with. "I'm not a failure," Your voice wobbles. Bakugou raises an eyebrow. "And?"

"I'm fucking incredible." You say, heat rushing to your cheeks.

You both pull away as you wipe your tears away. Bakugou cracks a satisfied grin. "Good. Now screw this shit, we're getting a tub of ice cream in here. You need a goddamn break."

He doesn't fix your problems magically overnight. But that caramel ice cream is a sinful treat as Bakugou makes you take a nap right after the tub is finished.

It's the best sleep you've had in months.

--

When Kirishima hears about this the next day, he is adamently shocked that the both of you can so boldly claim that you're still "just friends".

Katsuki Bakugou is truly, a fucking idiot.