#I want to squeeze them in my fist until they explode

[zephyrchama]

(Obey Me! Belphegor and MC. The problem with naps.)

You were in trouble.

It had been several hours since you were able to move. Your legs were heavy, most likely numb. You wanted nothing more than to kick and stretch out your neglected muscles. The battery on your D.D.D. was running low.

Belphegor was deaf to the world, his nose buried in your naval with arms coiled around your waist. He was the world's clingiest lap blanket. Despite bending his knees, Belphegor's feet stuck out over the edge of the couch. You had tried fruitlessly over the hours to wake him, but things were getting dire.

You poked at his cheek. Slow and soft at first, but with increasing intensity until you reached a point where Leviathan himself would have recruited you for a button-mashing game.

"Belphie. Belphegor. Belphegor. Belphie. Belph. Belphegor. Hey!!"

You whacked his forehead with your D.D.D. There was no response. You sunk back into the couch cushions to create a bit of distance between your stomach and the demon's face. The next plan was to pinch his nose.

This was also futile. Belphegor clearly stopped inhaling and appeared fine, but such a length of time without breathing would cause brain damage in humans. It disturbed you. He was probably fine, being a demon and all. It was still concerning. You squeezed his nostrils until the excessive passage of time made you uncomfortable and let go. A couple of seconds went by before Belphegor breathed in with a loud snore. Any sense of relief was quickly and easily washed away by annoyance.

You groaned and leaned forward over the demon's head, placing your elbows on the edge of your knees to better cradle your face in your hands with despair. You balled your hands into fists, pressing them against your forehead, and let out a wail.

"Belphie, I'm begging you. Wake up."

Silence. You felt like you were going to explode.

"I have to pee."

You might as well have been talking to a large rock. The demon's weight on your lower stomach was not helping the situation. In an ideal world, you would have reached the bathroom over an hour ago. You leaned back once more and stared dismally at the sleeping figure in your lap. You were running out of options.

"Hear me, Denizens of Darkness. I am Master of Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth. Heed my call and do as I command. Get off of me!"

Wisps of magic curled up your arms, dancing across your neck and face. Its light made everything brighter. Traces of powerful energy - Belphegor's own energy - blew through your hair, whooshing past your ears. Belphegor was forcefully shifted into his demon form and rolled off the couch with all the grace of a baby chick learning to fly.

A deep rumble escaped his throat at the rude awakening. Belphegor lifted himself up in a daze. The fluff on his tail stood on edge as it swung turbulently from side to side. He clenched his jaw, barring his teeth menacingly. "What are you doing?"

You had already seized the chance to leap up. Only, your legs betrayed you. There was no strength to stand and you fumbled over onto Belphegor, colliding with his back. You both momentarily flailed on the ground.

"Explain yourself," he growled while you struggled to stand. Blips of magic were evaporating off your clothes, adding to the disorientation.

"Carry me!" you demanded. "That'll be faster, you've gotta carry me."

Even if you buckled your legs together to hold things in, you worried that wobbling down the hallway with jelly legs would be an impossible endeavor.

Belphegor looked at you the same way he would look at a diseased toad. With no context, he was wholly confused.

"I need the bathroom, now!" It was all you could think of. Magic started swirling at your wrists again as you began to chant, "Heed my words, in the name of the sorcerer..."

"Ok, ok! Wait!" Belphegor scrambled to his feet. He winced at the thought of being commanded again. His chest tightened, already afflicted by the start of your spell.

You had your knees locked together, digging your nails into your palm in a desperate attempt to hold your bladder in. It wasn't the best pose for being picked up. Belphegor did his best. He couldn't carry you in the elegant, suave manner he liked to dream about. Instead, he held you with both arms like an oversized bag of potatoes.

"Go, go, go!" Time was of the essence. He was slow to get a move on, so you beat on his shoulder with your fist. "This is all your fault!"

Belphegor blew a strand of hair out of his face. His expression was a sour frown. He was still cranky from being woken up. "Fine. Just hang on."

You don't get to see the demons use their abilities often. They like to play human in front of you. Unfortunately, with your head buried in Belphegor's hoodie and your mind occupied with other worries, you did not have the luxury to admire the way he bounded through the house with hardly perceptible speed. In just a few quick steps, not even five seconds later, you had arrived at your long-awaited destination.

You rolled out of Belphegor's arms and hastily slammed the door shut in the confused demon's face.

The Avatar of Sloth skulked across the hall to lean against the wall opposite the bathroom door. Now alone with his thoughts, he had ample time to get his mind in order and plan out exactly how to get revenge when you came back out.

[princessbrunette]

omggg i adore kitty!reader so much shes so !! me !!! how do u think jayj would put her in her place … i feel like whenever shes having her mini tantrums people get equally as frustrated bc she gets feisty but jj has like .. magic on him or something 💭

"⭒˚｡⋆🍡⋆⭒˚｡"

you’d been in a bad mood since coming home from work. bartending wasn’t for the weak, especially when the locals constantly harassed you and berated your drink pouring skills — which was mostly put down to being a woman. by the time you get back to jj’s empty house, the blonde sat on his messy porch with a bottle of beer when you got back — you had quite the attitude.

“if it ain’t my favourite bartender. how’s m’girl, come over here.” he opens his arms and you storm right past making his brows shoot up, lips pressed together as he adjusts his cap. “alrighty, guess someone’s in a mood.” he pushes up onto his feet, swaggering in through the open door.

“‘somethin’ happen? what’s up?” he calls after you, spotting you in the kitchen angrily opening and closing cupboard doors as you try to make yourself something to eat.

“where is my plate?” you demand, clearly frustrated. he blinks, thinking back to your special plate that you always ate off. some cutesy antique thing you found at a yard sale, a beloved item of yours. he silently winces, eyeing it sat in the sink, soaking in bubbles.

“yeah uh, so basically i ate my lunch off it ‘cus i forgot to do the dishes, uh — again. that’s my bad. i got paper plates you can use? great thing about those is that when you’re done with ‘em you don’t gotta wash ‘em. you just throw ‘em away. makes me wonder why we even buy regular plates in the first pl—”

“no i don’t want a paper plate jj j want my plate! i just want to eat my food and— and you’re here just— just—” you explode, still refusing to offer him even a glance as you continue hunting for something to eat your leftovers off.

“hey, hey— put them claws away kittycat. no need for that. c’mon pretty girl where’s that smile?”

you spin around, fists balled at your side, tears of anger in your eyes.

“dont tell me to smile! go away!” you yell before turning away with a loud huff. jj drops his head down, tongue in his cheek as he nods, thinking for a moment before approaching slowly.

“easy, alright? you’re not gonna take that tone with me, mama i’m on your side.” as he speaks, you feel the warmth of his front press to your back, an arm cautiously sliding around your waist to keep you stable. his other arm snakes around your neck, pulling you into a light headlock, just enough pressure to ground you. he lowers his head to talk into your ear as you stare directly at the cabinet, already melting a little against him. “you wanna talk ‘bout your day? y’already know i’m all ears baby. but you gotta watch that attitude, yeah? you’re home now, i’m here. just… dial it back.”

there’s some silence, and you nod — releasing a shaky breath as you feel some of the grossness from your day leave your body. “uh-huh, that’s all you needed wasn’t it babydoll? needed to be told. that’s okay, i get it.” he kisses your temple before removing his arm from your neck, using both hands to squeeze your waist and turn you around.

the gaze he receives from you is nothing short of guilty, doll-like eyes blinking up at him slowly as you take deep breaths. “now what you’re gonna do, is sit that cute lil ass down and let me fix you up a plate. you’re gonna eat that shit, then, you’re gonna talk to me about your day,” he walks you backwards until your legs hit the chair at the table and you drop down to sit in it. he leans forward, hands cupping your cheeks. “and after that, oh i’mma fuck the shit out of you. like, you’re not even gonna remember what day of the week it is— let alone what shitty customers ran their mouth at you today. that sound good?”

“yes, jj.” you respond, pupils pretty much taking up your whole eye like an entertained kitten.

“thats what i like to hear, ma’am. alright, wait there. i got you.”

"⭒˚｡⋆🍡⋆⭒˚｡"

[whalesforhands]

Hii! I have an idea ☝️😈

What about teen gojo and geto meeting future reader and they’re all baffled and mesmerized and all this fluffy stuff and reader is just like “🧍‍♀️” confused since she was fighting a curse a few seconds ago- But the adult versions of the two are busy doing whatever else so she has to deal with them until the curse wears off?

Just wanted to ramble 🏃‍♀️ Merry Christmas!

i like ur rambling, anon. guess what timeline i picked, hehe. whether or not it’s canon to main dyf au, is for you to decide. merry christmas hohoho

You practically deflate onto the ground, knees scraping against the soft dirt whilst your poor, beaten up staff was used as your sole support where you had stabbed it into the dirt, your hands sliding down the handle of your weapon as the dust settles around you.

It was rare to have you deployed on-field for an exorcism of a curse, and even rarer for you to have to deal with anything above a Grade 2.

(Mainly due to your husbands who were sorely against you having to do any exorcism at all.)

But, alas, even they can’t slay every single curse in the world; the higher-ups having purposefully kept their most powerful busy as of late.

“And you promise to abandon your mission if you can’t defeat it?” A seriousness in his tone, almost dreadful, almost domineering in nature. Geto Suguru will not take no for an answer, his hands upon your shoulders squeezing lightly, trembling just ever so slightly.

“Do not fight anything you deem above your skill level.” Gojo Satoru is wholly deadpan, your pinkies interlocked in a promise as intense eyes stare you down. You feel his pinky tighten, restless, unlabeled impatience. Absent of any semblance of playfulness. “Okay?”

You’ve taken their words seriously, only taking fights that you know you would win; only running when you know you can’t.

A jujutsu sorcerer does not give their life up so easily.

You hear a rustle from the bushes, eyes darting behind you, and ripping your weapon out and readying for another face off just as you feel a familiar, overwhelming power looming just where you had looked away.

“Now, now, now.” That familiar voice, lacking in all the more mature tones you were used to, all the gentleness that you’ve grown so fond of.

“You’re gonna drop your weapon, put your pretty hands up and slowly turn around to face me.”

(You didn’t even hear his footsteps. Was he flying?)

There’s no hesitation in your compliance, the clatter of your staff to the ground as your hands are held up. The malice in the energy you feel all stoked and ready to explode at any given moment, the tones of his voice an underlying, upset melancholy.

You’re facing the Gojo Satoru, afterall. However, there’s an issue with him, something you’ve realized all too soon after loving him for so long.

There’s a tensed silence between the both of you during the stare-down, your eyes still getting used to his slightly shorter stature, much shorter hair as compared to your highschool days and current adult age. His cheeks a tad bit fuller, but eyes dulled considerably.

He’s still so cute.

“My Six Eyes tell me that you’re (name) (last name).” From your breathing pattern down to every last speck of your cursed energy; it was undeniably you. His eyes shine with quiet grief, and gritted regret as you meet his gaze.

You feel sorry for him.

“…but you’re not my (name).” You’re a little more mature looking, a little far too calm and collected in his presence. You’re the same; yet not the one he knew. His eyes narrow as the red on his glowing hand fizzles out, his stance commanding and broad as his feet finally touch the ground before you, using his looming height as a threat. It contrasts the way his voice cracks just as he ends his words, a beating silence enveloping the both of you as your heart calms, your hands slowly going down.

“And you’re not my Satoru.” It causes a stuttering, reddish plum to his cheeks, a throb to his heart that he hadn’t expected to feel, clenching his fists, a click of realization alongside his fingernails digging into his skin, intrepid gaze holding your calm one.

“So I am in another world.”

——

This wasn’t your Suguru either. His hair is messily bunned up, the bags under his eyes darker than you have ever seen him. His lips are dry, his complexion lacking any of the usual vigor your Suguru had.

He looks far too weary, far too tired as he sits upon a nearby bench, hunched over and just so exhausted that it makes you wonder when was the last time he has had a good night’s sleep.

“Oi, Suguru!” The ‘Satoru’ that you had met is all too keen to greet the boy, his hand around your elbow and pulling you along with him. “I found out where we’re at!” His loud call only heeds the visible slump of the black-haired boy’s tensed shoulders, eyes still cast towards the ground as the cicadas call around him.

“And I found somebody to help us.” He brings the both of yourselves to a stop before the blank boy.

“It’s nice to meet you?” You’re honestly at a loss for words at the situation. For how all powerful and odd Gojo’s powers can be, you hadn’t expected this situation one bit.

It’s at your voice that this ‘Geto Suguru’ nearly whirls his head back at a speed so quick that it nearly scares you. Dry, reddened eyes widening and mouth opening, getting up on shaky legs as he extends a hand towards you.

“You—“

——

“So…” The silence is far too awkward for you to be comfortable. “There was a (name) in your timeline too, I hear?” Your fingers are twiddling with your jujutsu uniform as you sat in between the both of them, their proximity a just inching between the line of too close whilst awaiting for Ijichi’s pickup to the campus.

‘Gojo Satoru’ is the first to speak up. “Yeah.”

A pause.

“Our (name) is… Dead.” You see ‘Geto Suguru’’s hands clench at his uniform pants, bundling the fabric up so tight that his knuckles started to turn white.

Oh. You feel bad now.

“I’m… Sorry about that.”

A breath is sucked in through his teeth. “Don’t be.”

You shouldn’t feel sorry for them at all. It’ll just make it worse than it already is.

Isn’t it funny? Comical? That their (name) had to be ripped away from their hold, had to be clawed away from their reach, only for fate to place another you; living, breathing right in front of them.

So palpable, so alike, so unbearably, painfully you. It makes them want to throw up in disgust, honestly. But they can’t.

Because it’s you.

“I-I’m sure that I-“ No. “Your (name) lived a good life if you were both around, then. Please- Trust me on this.” You know. You know that any version of ‘you’ would be satisfied with their life if they had friends like them; Gojo, Geto and Ieiri.

It’s a life that no version of you would ever regret. You wouldn’t regret becoming a jujutsu sorcerer if you had gotten to meet people like them.

And it brings two broken hearts just a tinge more comfort.

——

“Um, Satoru..”

“Yes?” It was a chorus of two similar voices.

“Ah— No. Uhm— My Satoru.” You’re a bit frazzled as you nod towards your blindfolded husband, a satisfied hum coming from him as he made his way towards you.

“Just call the other one Gojo! Or you can just call for your hubby~” He’s cooing into your ear for the duo to watch on, a hand on your waist to hook you in close as a smile is donned upon his face.

There’s a beat of silence before the more intimidating white-haired sorcerer spoke up.

“No. I want to be called Satoru.” The younger Gojo had had his eyes set upon you, never letting you leave his vicinity. Then, that means that the other ‘Geto Suguru’ would be called as simply ‘Suguru’, then.

“Your blindfold’s pretty lame. Do I actually want to wear that?”

Your Gojo chooses to turn his nose up, and ignore that sneer his younger counterpart gave him. “Man, I was so angry.” You hear a sigh as you see a hand wave off the younger boy. “Do whatever you please, little me. But don’tcha leave yet, please! My Suguru’s gonna be so stoked to see this.”

Oh, speaking of your Suguru.

“Did you tell him to pick up some dashi stock for our dinner tonight? I ran out yesterday.”

“…how about we just order a pizza tonight?”

“Sator— Gojo!” Your hands are immediately upon your hips as you feel him hug you towards him, a hand going up to stroke the back of your head, as your face is pressed to his chest to muffle the incoming scolding.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t be mad at me! A wife’s scorn is a husband’s greatest regret!”

“…you guys live all together?” ‘Suguru’’s voice breaks the moment between the both of you.

You feel a rumbling of your husband’s chest as a laugh is released.

“And we got kids together too. Ya jealous yet?”

——

“Aha, this is certainly a sight.” Suguru is shedding himself of his jacket as he kicks off his shoes by the genkan, the sight of his younger self, and double the Gojo certainly jarring for him as they sat around the dining table.

“Welcome home, honey!” It’s your Gojo that skips along to press an obnoxiously wet kiss to your other husband’s lips first as you gently place the final bowl of zaru soba down.

(Minus the miso soup side dish. You’re still slightly mad, but you have guests over.

“We could’ve just ordered a pizzaaaaaa!” Your husband’s whines are ignored as you strain the noodles out.

“I’m not feeding guests a pizza, dearest idiot husband of mind.” You pat your hands dry upon your apron, turning to flick at his forehead as he whines even more, begetting a giggle before you tiptoe up to press a kiss to the area.)

“Welcome home.” Your voice greeting your husband is lost on ‘Satoru’ and ‘Suguru’’s ears as they stare down at the bowl before them. The significance of the food almost making the cursed spirit user tear up.

This was his favourite food. It— ‘You’ and himself used to eat this frequently until—

“Suguru… Are you okay?” A whispered concern from his Satoru.

“Yeah. I—“ He thinks he’s going to be sick. “I’m fine.”

“It isn’t much, but I hope you enjoy it.” His ears finally tune back in just in time to hear your voice once more. Dreary copper-amethyst gaze flicking up to meet your warm, lovely face.

He’ll eat it. He’ll eat it. He’ll eat it.

“Don’t push yourself if you can’t.” It’s this world’s Suguru that pops in, much longer hair, his older features, his broader stature and more muscled body.

(Does— He know what he’s been through?)

His chopsticks are trembling as he brings the noodles to his lips, mouth opening and slowly chewing— He stops as a realization hits him.

It’s delicious. It’s so delicious. There are tears in his eyes as he begins to gobble it up, a hack in his throat as ‘Suguru’ pushes the urge to vomit away to take in more.

(If— if this was his final time meeting you- Then he has to. He has to. But— This is strange. Even his counterpart didn’t react all that much to his and Satoru’s appearance.

It occurs to him that perhaps, they aren’t in another world. If they’re meeting their older selves, then— Perhaps they are in another timeline.

Which means—)

His gaze returns down to the now empty bowl before him, before flickering up to meet your satisfied, almost prideful face.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“You’re welcome! I’m so happy you loved it that much!”

Perhaps this situation wasn’t so bad at all, giving him the chance to see your smiling face once more.

——

“If you give me a kiss, I’ll tell him~” Is he mocking his younger self…? You just wanted him to help the other ‘Satoru’ to get back to his world. Alas, you relent, leaning over to press a chaste, quick kiss to his cheek as your Geto watched on with upturned eyes and a happy smile.

“Hey, kid me.” A joyful hum, a satisfied gait as your Gojo watches the little boy who he once was.

“You already figured out how to go back already, right? Whatcha waiting for?” Huh…? Your Gojo already knows how to get them back?! Your eyes widen as you nearly choke on your water.

“Now, now Gojo. Don’t tease them.” Your Geto is chuckling, patting your back as you cough. “You’ll make our poor wife worried. I’m sure that they have some sort of unfinished business here.”

What?! Were they both in on this? This is just getting stranger, and stranger…

“Heh. Guess it isn’t a surprise I would know myself best, huh?” Satoru lets a cocky grin overtake his features as his fingers intertwined with his Suguru’s.

“Guess I really am the strongest.”

His gaze finally stops at you. “It was nice— Y’know.” He grows shy, eyes shifty from behind his sunglasses. “Seeing a (name) again.”

‘Suguru’ speaks up. “Thank you for— Allowing us to experience it again.” He’s grateful. The most he’s ever been, the most he’s ever felt ever since your passing.

Thank you. But— It’s only goodbye for now.

“It was nice meeting the both of you!” You’re bowing politely as you wave.

(The younger Suguru is finally smiling. Even if it’s just a little.)

“We’ll see you soon! Wait for us!” A salute and a bright grin. And in a flash, they have disappeared.

…what?

masterlist

Notes:

If you don’t get it, your current Satoru and Suguru have experienced what their younger counterparts have been through.

Younger Gojo and Geto have been watching every move you’ve been making. Keep that in mind if you ever reread this, haha.

During dinner, younger Gojo and Geto decided to share a bowl together since Geto hasn’t been able to eat a full meal without throwing up. It was the first time in a while he’s eaten so much. When Gojo saw how much he was eating, he asked for a separate bowl for himself.

Geto Suguru thinks he’s pretty handsome in this world. Would…you have liked someone like that too? His Satoru certainly does. He’s seen the shifty, almost shy gaze his Gojo threw the older Geto. Maybe he will grow out his hair.

“Aww, I was such an adorable brat!~” His hands are placed upon his cheeks as he cooed, watching as his husband and yourself cleared the plates.

“Hmm. I suppose you must’ve lost all that cuteness in your youth, wouldn’t you agree, darling?.” Suguru’s cooing back at him from the kitchen with a laugh, his body turning to you to ask for your opinion.

“His younger self was certainly so cute… But I suppose my answer depends on whether he helps with the dishes today.” You’re teasing him right back as you slowly wash the plate.

“W-what? Fine, I’m coming! Call me adorable, pleaseee!”

[rcmclachlan]

civil twilight (buck/tommy)

For @dadvans, who is a dirty enabler whenever I start having ideas and thoughts. Del, here are your damn bucktommy wedding vows, are you happy now?? 🩷

+

With a smile, Bobby looks out at the congregation—one hundred and fifty people squeezed onto the Ceremony Deck of the 1909, including what appears to be every first responder Buck has ever met—and announces, “I’m happy to say we’ve come to the part of the ceremony that Buck and Tommy have been looking forward to the most. They’ve prepared a little something for each other to be shared for the very first time today. What they say now will sanctify this moment now and forever.”

Excitement and anticipation chase each other under Buck’s skin like dogs, and he can’t help but bounce a little on his toes, which are pinched like hell in the shoes Maddie made him buy. 

It took him almost a month to comb through the rolodex of his life—taking out cards from between color-coded dividers organized by year and studying each one to remind himself of exactly how he got to this point—to find the right words. He thought about them every second of every day. He filled his notes app to the point they made him pay for extra storage. He fought a five-alarm warehouse fire alongside almost twenty other companies and spent the entire time rearranging sentences in his head. 

There were nights he lay curled against Tommy’s back and practiced for hours against the heat of his skin—soundlessly, of course, although with the way Tommy snores after a double shift it’s not like he would’ve been heard—until he was satisfied. 

But the thought of Tommy doing the same makes Buck a little crazy. Did Tommy scribble half-baked thoughts on the back of a Pizzeria Sei receipt, or did he watch Love, Actually for the two hundredth time and take notes while Colin Firth gave a speech to a very confused town, or did he crowdsource ideas from the yahoos over at Harbor? Knowing Tommy, he just started spitballing at the horizon from a thousand feet above the city and got it on the first try.

Buck’s been vibrating in place for months thinking about this exact moment, and now that it’s finally here he’s going to explode all over all their guests before he even gets to say “I do.”

“Buck? Tommy?” Bobby’s voice is warm, like he knows exactly how much oxygen is feeding the fire in Evan’s belly. “Take each other’s hands and hold on tight.”

Before Bobby’s even finished talking, Tommy’s already stepping forward and reaching for Buck, which is good because Buck’s already reaching for him, too. Their hands come together with the ease of automatic doors in a department store, sliding to meet like they were made for nothing else. Their fingers tangle and lock, and Buck is thrilled to find neither of their palms are sweaty. Tommy’s smiling so hard his nose looks like it’s about to scrunch its way into his hairline, and Buck’s moved so close he’s practically stepping on Tommy’s feet. They meet in a very narrow middle. 

“Buck."

He closes his eyes and presses his lips together to keep the fireworks in his belly from erupting out of his mouth and incinerating the entire canopy. From where he's standing behind Buck, Eddie taps him twice on the shoulder with his fist as if to say, we were all forced to listen to you talk about this for half a year; you've got this, but also don't screw it up.

“You’re up first.”

Drawing in a trembling breath, Buck reaches deep down into the little gilded space where he’s been keeping the words safe all this time. He holds them for a moment, traces the familiar edges of them, and hopes every person on the deck right now is going to be able to hear him. He wants them to know.

Tommy squeezes his hand gently, and Buck looks at him, at the shape of his smile that Buck could draw with his eyes closed. It's suddenly so easy to open his mouth.

"My first real memory is of going with Maddie to the park down the street from our house so we could watch the sunset. I sat on a swing and stared at the sky until it got dark, and even then I couldn't tear my eyes away. Maddie said it looked like I was searching for something."

Like every other time Buck's brought up some random story from when he was a dumbass kid, Tommy's lips roll inward. The first time it happened, he thought Tommy was trying not to laugh at him and he wanted to crawl under a rock like a bug to escape the threat of being completely crushed. But then Tommy admitted to being so charmed by Buck's story that he had to hide the sheer goofiness of his smile so Buck didn't think he was a total psycho. It's true. When Tommy lets that particular brand of smile out, he looks like a serial killer, so whenever Buck sees the inward lip roll, he knows he's one spate of cute aggression away from being turned into a human coat rack. It's awesome.

"It wasn't until I started writing this and looked back on my life that I realized how often I did it. No matter where I was, who I was with, or what I was doing, I'd end the day with my eyes on the sky. It sort of felt like something was going to come swooping out of the clouds just for me and I didn't want to miss it when it did. I didn't really think about it until after the first time I met you, because I didn't have a chance to look at the sky that night—you took me straight there instead. I haven't come back down since."

The tail end of the sentence grows soft and tight, and his eyes grow wet and hot. Which isn't a surprise. He hasn't made it through a single practice run of this part without his taps going on. He clears his throat and squeezes Tommy's hands tightly, reassured by the strength of them, in the firmness of the grip. 

Mortified and elated, he blinks so the tears fall. Tommy sucks in a breath, then distangles his left hand from Evan's right so he can reach up to thumb them away.

"Turns out Maddie was right," he says, smiling wide and pressing into the touch. "I didn't know it, but all that time I was searching for you."

Tommy presses his lips together, but it isn't to hide a smile—it's to hide the way his mouth is trembling and he's doing a shit job of it. Buck chokes a little on a wet laugh. His chest feels sweetly sore, like a pressing on a bruise.

"That was beautiful," Bobby says. He's looking at Buck in the way that always makes him wonder at just how incredible his life would've been if he'd been Buck's dad from the get go. Which is probably a mean thing to do right now, considering his actual father is sitting in the second row, but if Bobby weren't officiating the ceremony he'd be sitting in the first, and that really says everything. 

Beaming, Bobby turns to Tommy and inclines his head. "Your turn, Tommy."

Anticipation sings in Buck's chest, and when Tommy meets his gaze, his eyes bright and clear like an autumn sky over the San Bernardino mountains, it lights the fuse on a whole new batch of fireworks under his skin. He inhales shakily and gives him what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

Tommy's expression evens out, but sweetness still lurks at the corner of his mouth.

"Evan."

Buck's eyes flutter a little. It's amazing to think he used to hate the sound of that name. When Tommy says it, it feels like sunlight.

"I spent most of my life afraid," Tommy begins. His voice is steady. "I grew up thinking I was made wrong, and I cut off pieces of myself to try and fit in where I thought I was supposed to belong. I tried finding peace in the sky, but all that emptiness did was remind me of how alone I was."

Heart pounding, Buck squeezes Tommy's hands so tightly he thinks they might meld together. 

"You know, I owe the 118 a lot. They helped me become a better teammate, a better friend… a better person. But there's no way I can ever repay them for how they changed me by bringing you into my life."

After all the time he spent thinking about Tommy simply writing his vows, it somehow never registered that he would actually have to say them out loud. In front of all their family and friends. That he'd be cracking open his chest and showing what's inside to the whole world as proof of his devotion. That he'd willingly do it for Buck simply because he loves him and wants to love him for the rest of their lives.

"Evan, from the moment I met you, you've shown me what it is to be brave. You've taught me how there's courage in loving with your whole heart and living your entire truth."

There is no way in hell he's going to be able to stand here and listen to this without gnawing on the deck railing or launching himself at Tommy to put his mouth on his bare skin. How do people do this without being charged with a misdemeanor?

"You found the pieces of me I thought were gone forever and put them back together differently. Better. You helped me make someone who isn't afraid of anything. I know we tease you about going The Full Buck, but because of you, because I know you're next to me ready to face anything that comes—" His voice breaks. "—I'm brave enough to go The Full Tommy."

Buck can barely see him through the tears that won't stop welling and falling, and if they were anywhere else, he'd wrap himself around Tommy like a snake and squeeze him until the storm passed, but because he's bound by dumb things like decorum and obscenity laws, Buck can only keep hold of his hands and try to transfer every ounce of love and comfort in his body to Tommy's by way of their tangled fingers. 

Then, suddenly, a shit-eating grin splits the gentle and earnest expression on Tommy's face, and he feels a bit like a bird right before it's sucked into a jet engine. Warning bells go off in the back of Buck's mind. 

"Evan," Tommy says, with the gravity of someone about to drop an atomic bomb, "you are the best ally I could've ever asked for."

The ugly, snotty laugh that punches its way out of Buck would earn him the respect of even the grubbiest of Jee-Yun's daycare friends, and he finally throws decorum out the window so he can step forward and bury his face in Tommy's shoulder. Between his tears and the spit he's horking from laughter, the suit fabric is definitely ruined.

"I love you so much," he wheezes. "I'd maim a thousand best friends for you."

He can't see Eddie's face, but he knows exactly what it's doing and it only makes him laugh harder. Tommy presses one of his high, incredulous laughs into Buck's hair, followed by a firm kiss to the crown of his head. 

"What do you say?" Tommy pulls back a little, but he looks so proud of himself. He looks proud. "Should we finish getting married or what?"

Buck sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth teasingly. "Or what?" 

"Or I go home and order pizza," Chim pipes up from the front row to a smattering of laughter. On his left, Hen drops her face into her hands, but her shoulders are shaking. On his right, Maddie smacks him on the arm like she's mortified, but she's grinning too hard to really sell it. It looks like she's crying just as hard as Buck is. 

"All right, all right," Bobby says, ever the voice of calm and reason, but he's very clearly fighting laughter, too. "Why don't we finish this up?"

"You ever get tired of herding cats, Cap?" Eddie asks, a grin in his voice. 

"Never," Bobby says. He lifts his brows pointedly at Buck. "Are you ready?"

Buck turns back to Tommy, and in the curve of his smile he sees the same glowing possibility that he's seen in ten thousand different sunsets, and his entire body clenches with the exhilarating and terrifying feeling of something's coming for me and I can't miss it. 

Heart pounding, he grins and holds his hands out again. They're immediately enfolded into Tommy's, like there was never a question about where they should go. 

He glances up through the canopy to glimpse the pockmarks of blue between the trees, but there's nothing coming for him. When he looks back down and meets Tommy's gaze, that hungry anticipation settles into warm fullness. He can call off the search; it's finally here. 

Buck smiles wide enough to encompass the sky. "I've been ready, Cap. Let's do this."

Now on AO3

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

how many times do i have to teach you this lesson old man

Ya know what? What if I want to be thirsty on main? AS A MATTER OF FACT:

(Genshin Impact/GFL) Stripping their S/O's clothes off

Genshin: Arlecchino, Clorinde, Chiori, Furina, Rosaria, Shenhe Girls' Frontline: M4A1, M16A1, AK-12, AN-94, Springfield

NSF-W BELOW THE CUT!

I WILL BE THIRSTY ON MAIN

Arlecchino's sharp gaze doesn't flinch as she's slowly tearing off S/O's shirt, one of her darkened fingers trailing down to their chest.

Despite how much S/O is squirming and avoiding to meet her gaze, Arlecchino pays it no mind and continues to study their body.

It was enticing to her, knowing that S/O belonged to her, and nobody else.

Which meant that there was no problem with her getting to see S/O's body with no obstructions.

One of her hands grab's S/O's face and forces it to look at her while the other quickly yanked their waist forward, making S/O yelp in surprise.

(Arlecchino) "Keep your eyes on me, S/O. I want to see all your reactions perfectly."

Arlecchino had the faintest appearance of a smirk as the hand on S/O's waist slid down underneath their pants and removing it, watching S/O flush red.

(Arlecchino) "Hm, much better."

Clorinde takes care to not rip any of S/O's clothing, lifting their shirt off slowly as both their breathing gets heavier by the second.

She can't help but admire their chest, with one hand brushing across it and just gently squeezing it with her fingers.

Seeing S/O's face, they were bright red. Clorinde doubted that she was faring much better, but it didn't stop her.

With a nervous chuckle, she meets their eyes with a smile.

(Clorinde) "I do not think I've had much opportunity to say how beautiful you are."

To make things fair, she unbuttoned her own shirt and felt her chest bounce free, knowing S/O was staring right at them.

Now that she was matching them, she leaned in to kiss their neck, hearing S/O moan positively in response.

(Clorinde) "I will match the pace we're going...If you would allow me?"

Chiori had S/O standing as she was "measuring" them, despite the fact she was missing all of her tools inside the bedroom.

It was then S/O quickly realized what Chiori had in mind, as she hugged them from behind, deftly unbuttoning their shirt and hearing her hum.

(Chiori) "As good as you look with my clothes on, you look much better with nothing on, S/O."

Her voice had a teasing air to it as she promptly lifted their shirt above their head.

S/O's body twitched from her fingers rubbing themselves all over their stomach, but one firm hand pushing lower stopped them from moving.

(Chiori) "Ah, no moving until I say so. I'm still measuring after all."

She unzipped their pants before yanking it down, a small chuckle coming from Chiori as her hands moved up from their stomach to their chest, her breath hot on the back of their ears.

(Chiori) "Good, keep still like this."

Furina took a deep breath, mostly to steady her own nerves, before moving to slide S/O's jacket off.

(Furina) "...N-No, I don't need help! I can do this!" Probably...?

Every few seconds she hesitated to continue as the embarrassment building up within threatened to explode.

...There was also the heat she was deliberately avoiding to mention while finally working up the courage to take their shirt off.

Furina stared with her mouth agape before quickly shaking her head and closing her eyes, fists clenching.

(Furina) "D-DON'T TEASE ME, OKAY?! I'M TRYING MY BEST!"

(S/O) "...But I didn't say any-"

(Furina) "I demand silence! Just...give me a moment to compose myself!"

It took a full thirty minutes for her to remove both their clothing, and somehow that made her more flustered than the fact they were both naked.

Rosaria skips straight to the main course, no hesitation or waiting.

Immediately, she goes for their pants and yanks it off, throwing it behind her as it hits the bedroom walls.

And without warning, she bites the inside of S/O's thigh, making them moan as her hands keep S/O's waist locked in place.

(Rosaria) "Quit squirming, or I'll bite you harder. Then again, you'd probably like that."

Rosaria kisses each spot that she gives a hickey to, teasing S/O by touching them everywhere except the one place they were almost begging, making her smirk.

(Rosaria) "Maybe I'll listen if you strip for me first."

If they wanted her, Rosaria was going to make S/O work for it.

As much as she loved S/O, there was some bit of sadistic pleasure knowing that they went along with her demands solely because it was her, knowing they'd refuse anyone else.

And she was going to live that fact up to the fullest tonight.

Shenhe simply takes off all her clothing, setting it to the side neatly, and doing the same with S/O under a minute.

Then she...just sat there.

(Shenhe) "Our clothes are off now, S/O. Is there anything else you wish for me to do?"

It was a little awkward. Shenhe didn't really know how to be seductive or erotic.

Yet, it was her blunt way of just instantly getting them naked that made her all the more endearing, cutely tilting her head in confusion at S/O's flustered expression.

(Shenhe) "Your face is heating up. Are you feeling alright?"

It took S/O a few minutes to explain to Shenhe what they wanted to do with her.

In which she nodded, and complied.

(Shenhe) "Please relax, I will make you feel good."

M4 reverts to her demure self for a few seconds before quickly regaining composure.

She strips down herself to match S/O, feeling her own core heat up from doing so.

M4 laid S/O on their back before giving them a kiss, her hands sliding down to the sides of their waist, feeling a slight twitch as she did so.

She smiled gently, a quiet but pretty giggle escaping her lips.

(M4A1) "You're cute when you're like this, S/O."

Leaning down, she kissed them on the nose, both of them laughing as she situated herself on top.

(M4A1) "Please, let me repay your love and kindness tonight."

M16 was surprisingly not drunk as she took off her clothes and frantically doing the same with S/O's, her hands struggling to unbutton their shirt.

(M16A1) "Damn...stupid...!-"

Pouting a little when S/O helped her, she sat by their side, dumbly staring as her one visible eye not so subtly stared below their waist.

(M16A1) "...U-Uh, right. We should get that off too, huh?"

Her usual bravado and confidence is gone, not used to sharing such an intimate moment with someone she loved.

Nor did she even expect to have someone she loved this way to begin with.

(M16A1) "Don't make too much fun of me, alright...Can...you help me take off my skirt?"

Smugly humming to herself, 12 has no issues taking S/O's clothes off, even with her eyes literally closed.

(AK-12) "Mind if I take a peek, S/O?~"

Her glowing pink eyes opened and studied S/O's body with growing interest, nothing left to imagination anymore.

12's hands teasingly brushed up on S/O's thighs, before moving underneath their pants and feeling them freeze up.

(AK-12) "Mind taking these off for me? It's getting in the way."

She could've easily done it herself as she was sitting behind them, but 12 figured it'd be more fun to make S/O do it.

And she was right.

94 nods and helps S/O out of their clothes relatively easily.

Though she is confused on what to do next, she could tell how nervous S/O was.

(AN-94) "I'm afraid I'll need instruction for whatever is next...Kiss you? V-Very well."

She closes the distance between their bodies as her small frame leans into them, slowly shifting their clothes off the bed as she does so.

Personally, she wanted to move them into their proper places in the drawer, but she assumed S/O didn't really care about that right now.

If this made them happy however, it would make her happy.

(AN-94) "I will make sure we are both satisfied tonight. A-And...thank you for trusting me."

Springfield slowly takes off her own shirt, her large bust being freed and leaning into S/O.

(Springfield) "Let's get comfortable, dear."

She helps S/O's clothes off, all the while lovingly planting kisses on their neck, collarbone, anywhere skin revealed itself.

Sitting directly behind them, she didn't have a good view of what S/O looked like in the front with nothing on, but Springfield was going to change that.

Having them lean back onto her, she could now see everything perfectly fine as she let their clothes hang off the edge of their bedframe.

(Springfield) "You look beautiful as always...Do you mind if I enjoy myself tonight?"

[star-suh]

Hardcore

Bang Chan x Male Reader

cw: idol au, dom top chan, pwp, facesitting, deepthroat, hair pulling, marking, spanking, slapping, choking, degradation, fisting, gaping hole, bit of dumbification, jackhammering, mating press, breeding, cum swallowing, hate sex, ripping clothes, cockwarming.

an: 😬 this man makes me go feral sometimes

—

yn was laying in the couch, his head hanging over one side of it. gurgling sounds could be heard in the living room, chan was there fucking the other's mouth “fuck at least that throat of yours can do wonders with my cock. you really know how to milk one hmm?” he slapped yn's cheeks and resumed his pace, forcing the other to deepthroat him. “maybe this is the only way to make you shut the fuck up for once”.

chan an yn were idols, each one from a different group, and they just began to hate each other for an unknown reason. every time they passed each other in the backstage of the music shows or year-end awards shows they looked at each other with anger plastered in their eyes, those glares were like hundreds of daggers stabbing at each other. until finally one day the tension exploded, their companies contacted them to do a collaboration (as a way to put an end to the rumors that the two hate each other's guts) and that's how we ended up here right now, chan banging the other's mouth, pulling his hair to thrust hard and deep.

with some final thrust chan came inside yn's throat clogging it with his thick cum, the other trying to swallow it but ended up spitting some of it “fucking asshole i almost choke–” not wanting to hear his annoying voice chan sat on top of yn, riding his face. chan gets up so that yn can breathe a little and sits on him again, repeating the action a few more times.

yn was stunned, there was so much happening that he doesn't realize when chan rips his shorts and underwear leaving his ass bare, “what the fuck you son of a bitch those were my favorite shorts”, “ask me how many fucks do i give” the other responded.

without warning chan impaled his thick fuckmeat on the tight hole, drawing a guttural moan out of him “you… asshole” tears rolled down his face while he punches chan in his chest “you're breaking me in.. hngh.. half.. you. bastard”..

chan positioned yn in a doggy style with the excuse of not wanting to see his face “this way i won't feel so disgusted” he mentioned. yn didn't pay attention to him since the only thing he focused on was how good chan's cock felt inside him. chan began to spank yn, enjoying the recoil caused by that and how it was slowly taking on a reddish color.

looking for a way to be able to thrust much rougher chan put his hands on the sides of yn's neck and began to choke him, also using it to push yn back so his cock goes deeper. yn's eyes were rolled back, spit coming out of his mouth, sex was clouding his mind and all he wanted now was to cum and get it over with quickly.

the room was now a mess, it reeked of sex and sweat, chan and yn have been fucking for hours. in the mating press position and he squeezed so hard that chan had no choice but to release his load inside the other. “why the fuck do you came inside.. it's disgusting coming from you” yn slapped chan but he didn't seem to like it, so he decided to do some payback, "fine, you son of a bitch, if that's what you want, then i'm going to get all my semen out of you. just don't complain later” suddenly, yn found himself in the jackhammering position. chan was being much rougher than he had been before, his cock never failing to hit that sweet spot. when he emptied his second load inside of yn chan said in a mocking voice “ow.. i'm so sorry yn i came inside you again”, “you did it on purpose you fu-aughng!!” yn cried feeling a sudden stretch, then he realizes chan was fisting him. his fist going in and out smeared with his semen "what do you think now yn? should i continue until there is not a single drop of cum inside?", yn could feel chan's fist making its way into his insides, how the knuckles scratched his prostate deliciously, he could feel every vein in chan's muscular arm "you're going to pay… for this.. augh.." he cried.

after finishing his fisting session, chan stopped to appreciate yn's destroyed hole, how agape it was and how it was clenching into nothing "it's cute how he tries to wink at me" chan joked, “i don't think you're going to be able to walk these days”.

chan folded yn and resume the fucking, but this time the thrusts were sloppier yn could feel that chan was already reaching his peak and that was when he took advantage and started scratching chan's back leaving long red and burning marks as part of his revenge, in addition to biting and twisting his nipples and punching his firm delicious pecs, "let's see how you'll cover those marks, imbecil” yn laughed with the last strength he had...

the next day yn woke up feeling sore down there and feeling a heavy weight on top of him, then chan wakes up too, realizing that they both fell asleep on top of each other with the top's cock still inside yn's ass "get off of me" yn pushes chan and when he tried to sit up he couldn't due to the pain he was feeling "hahaha deserved" chan laughs. suddenly he feels a slap on his back that hurt his wounds making him scream in pain "goddamn it… it hurts a lot”. “deserved" yn murmurs, struggling to stand up to go to the shower.

[cevans-is-classic]

18+ Only. Warnings: Semi-sexual content, language, reference to violence.

My very first Homelander fic! If you'd like to read more of my stuff, read on.

Masterlist One

Masterlist Two

Masterlist Three

Part Two: Listen To Me

He’s frustrated

He clenches his fists until the seams feel tight — ready to burst. 

Every word that comes out of Deep’s mouth brings him closer to burning right through his stomach. 

This should have been over. 

All of it.

 Everyone should be on their fucking knees for him. This whole goddamn place belongs to him — he is in charge. 

Something twists into his chest, a swelling feeling choking him. His lungs felt tight, straining with every slow breath he tried to take. They’re going to pop. His lungs are going to explode. Way to discover how he can die, don’t ya think? 

The Great Homelander — killed by his fucking lungs. 

“- I don’t think that. I know it.” Sage’s voice dragged him out of his head. At least as out of his head as he can get. 

“Homelander-” 

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up!” He hisses between clenched teeth. He felt small and cold, wishing he had someone to hang on to. 

Which frustrated him more — and left him feeling wrong inside. 

He shouldn’t want to hang on to anyone. He’s the world’s greatest Superhero. There is nothing he can’t do, nowhere he can’t go yet now everything is Up in flames.

He needs to focus on the fire and watch the smoke choke out the weak-minded assholes. 

“This is over. Done.” Everyone looks at him. He hears Ashley’s heart beat faster, skipping when his eyes turn to hers. Sweat Collects at her temple, dripping from her God-awful wig. 

Burn it off. 

He could. 

Laser her from the fake roots and down. He’d love to watch her face melt around the heat, brain matter leaking onto the floor. That might make him feel better.

On a spin, he turns away from them. His quick steps are loud in the large room. He leaves, not bothering to close the door behind him. 

The council room falls away behind him. Each step slaps against the floor. Each step, every push from his heel to the balls of his feet drags heavier, weighing down the urge to fly. 

Voices murmur through the Walls, his eyes catching employees huddled around desks and one coupling in a closet. 

He stops at his door. 

Home. 

What’s fucking home? The place that tortured him, that created him where he realized he wasn’t real; that John wasn’t real. 

This should be his home. Right here. It holds his bed, his clothes, and his secret stuffed animal. 

It should be Ryan’s home, too.

If Ryan is there. 

His son, who would rather run to Butcher — a fucking piece of shit — than be with his father. 

Home? 

Who the fuck knows what that is?

A light flickers in the back of his mind, the reminder of fingers in his air and a crooning voice on the radio. 

His frustration flares in his chest. He’s trying to remember the address — the memory hazy, lost in the clouds. 

Should he change his clothes? 

A red shirt with a navy blue jacket, jeans that squeezed his crotch, and a baseball hat. 

Home.

-

The door still had your stupid sign hanging from the same hook. It is a piece of wood painted black with blood splatter words announcing a ‘haunting’ inside. He stared at it for an hour the first time he stood at your doorstep. He ordered you to get rid of it.

You snorted and rolled your eyes. 

The doorbell is broken, no sound signaling it’s gone off no matter how many times he pushed it.

Homelander knocks after he breaks the glowing button. 

Grinding his teeth, he impatiently raps his knuckles against the wood.

He hears movement. 

Homelander knocks harder. 

He squirms where he stands, shifting from foot to foot. A tingle of anxiety trickles down his chest.

“Dammit, where are — oh.” that’s what he came for. 

Your voice.

His raps went faster. One, two, three until a line cracks the wood when he brings his fist down. That stops him, and the shuffling he hears behind the door.

“Alright,” it swings open, “Fucking hell, dude.” 

The smell of weed rolled from the house, clogging his nose. 

You pause, looking up at him. Your eyes are red, drooping as your head tilts to the side, eyebrows raised into your hairline. It’s been months, maybe a year, since he’s been here. It was before the shit show that was Soldier Boy; he remembers that. 

Your hair is different. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” You leaned against the door, propping it with your foot and resting your temple against it. You play with your hair, wrapping it around a finger before tugging and letting go.

“Yes.” He steps forehead. Your other hand coming up to take a drag keeps him still.

The smoke puffs in his face when you release it.

“Come on,” You don’t wait for him to follow, turning around and walking back into the house, “You’re always welcome here.”

Every sentence you say has an edge—something that makes his skin itch. He wants you to talk to him with respect. He should punish you for the attitude and sarcasm and keep you from ever speaking again.

He’s the Homelander. Who are you to treat him this way? 

The living room is unfamiliar. The couches are new and the set up rearranged. There are blankets and pillows scattered around the room. One deep red one hanging over the back, three pillows nestled into the edges of the couch. Another blanket, a soft black, hangs on the arm. 

A group of pillows rests on the floor, stuffed animals tucked into between them. There’s an open spot in the middle made for sitting. 

Tossed over the coffee table is another blanket.

This one is familiar. 

Another red blanket that Homelander knows feels amazing on his skin. 

“What can I do for you, John?” 

He never hears that name.

Except, he heard it from the doctors. From the ones who watched him from behind glass, who pressed buttons and laughed at his pain. 

Doctors he left to rot in the bad room.

You’d settled on the couch, feet curled beneath you. His eyes track your shorts as they curl up, showing the edge of your underwear. 

His mouth dries. 

“I-” You move, dropping one leg to the floor and stretching the other leg out. 

He aches to crawl into the space and curl up, let you stroke his hair, and call him your good boy. 

“Come here.” That drags a gasp from him, his feet moving without thought. 

The couch is deep and warm, and his knees sink into the cushions. You spread your legs more, bending your knee to cradle his back. 

“I saw you on TV.” There it is.

The voice he needs. 

He’ll swear he sees the magic swirl in the air when your words leave your mouth. It tickles his ears and dives into him to wiggle into place around his brain. It grounds him 

One sentence has his mind slowing down. The ever-spinning thoughts froze for the first time in a long time.

“Yeah?” He tucked his feet into the crease of the couch. 

“Hey, shoes off, Mister.” You popped the side of his head.

He toes them off. 

“You were in a commercial. I didn’t quite pay attention. I focused on you only. You did an amazing job, and your smile was breathtaking. You know what, though?” The hand you slid into his hair stopped. A sharp tug pulled his head back.

Oh no.

“What?” 

“You’re selfish.” 

Homelander whimper. 

He is inherently selfish. 

A selfish man who takes and takes and takes. 

They raised him, no they created him to do. Take the pain, endure the hunger, sit the silent nights with nothing but his thoughts. 

Your fingers move from his hair down his neck, over his shoulders to rest on his arm. He focused on the heat from your hand, the weight of it. It holds him down and makes his stomach loosen. 

He presses closer to you. 

You smell the same. Musky, heady, acidic. It’s uniquely you, a smell he could pick out anywhere. 

He thinks of burying his face between your legs. To lick the taste until it coats his mouth and stains his teeth.

It’s his favorite. 

“You always want things. Always need more.” The drop of your voice made his back straighten. “Did you come to me to be selfish, John?”

Did he? 

He did. 

He wants to stop being Homelander. He wants to be  — he wants—to be John. 

John is a real person  

Homelander is not. 

Homelander is a god. 

“Yes.” Always answer honestly, John, “I did.” 

You hum, repeating the stroking pattern. His hair, his neck, his shoulder, and starts again.

He hones in on the movement — how he turns into butter in your hands. 

Your voice washes over him, rolling him on the waves to drag him down. It’s warm, flowing into his chest, heated, liquid fire that wraps around. 

“Look how sweet you are.” That rocks him, spinning his mind. It mixes with his blood. The flames cause sparks to tingle his fingers, making his knees weak. His toes curl, pressing deeper into the couch.

You’re whispering over him, hand following the same path repeatedly. It makes his stomach warm, kindling the fire in his lungs. He slows his breathing, feeling his heartbeat calm. 

There’s still a rocking feeling in his head. It sways him back and forth and makes his eyes water. 

He feels safe. 

Your hand pauses, and he whines, pitiful, a pitched noise that grates his ears. When your leg moves, he turns around, sliding his hand beneath your body to wrap around you. His other arm curled up, tucking under his chin to rest his weight on you. 

You chuckle, “Baby boy.” 

Your leg moves again, sliding between his. Your knees press into his thighs.  

Homelander folds his leg at the knee. He nestles into your chest, his nose sliding along your neck. When your hand moves to his knee, fingers loosely holding his leg. 

He can feel your pulse, the rush of your blood. You breathe beneath him.

In and out.

It’s your source of living and powers your ability to whisper in other ears to make them feel.

He wonders what you’d sound like choking to death. 

It’d be easy for him to slide his hand up, dig his fingers into your throat, and watch your eyes bulge; veins bursting, tears streaming down your face. You wouldn’t be able to control him then. He’d never grapple with the fact he let you control him. 

The only person he gives himself to. 

He hates you. 

He’s lying

You kiss his forehead, a press of your lips. His heart skipped, stomach flipping. It is rare for you to kiss him. To feel your lips against him, moving with him. He’s seldom allowed to lick your words from your mouth. 

He has to earn kisses.

His core heats, sending flames down his thighs. He bites back a groan but presses himself closer to your leg. You hum again, a lower noise, letting out a sigh that dampens his hairline. 

The groan he let out was impossible to fight. 

He wants to take your breath away, suck the air from your lungs. You should only breathe for him, into him. You belong to him. 

“Want to tell me why you’re upset, Baby boy?” 

Yes.

 He shakes his head. 

“John,” your voice is sharp, sticking, icy, dripping into his ears, “What have I told you?” 

He flinches. “Liars are bad boys.” 

“Exactly. Now, do you want to talk about it?” 

The ice floods his veins. “Everything is going wrong. It’s all falling apart and I’m losing control. Every step I take is wrong, crumbling the fucking world around me. Sage is a bitch. Deep is a useless fucking idiot. I found out A-train is fucking us over. The only thing that resembles a good thing is when the ridiculous Firecracker woman revealed she’s lactating.” 

He catches his breath and opens his mouth, but stops and whines into his arm.

You gently shush him.

“Tell me about that.” Your nails scratch his ear, squeezing his lobes with a soft tug. “Did you feed from her? Suck her dry? I bet you latched on quicker than a newborn and suckled until there was nothing left. I bet,” Your voice changed, turning softer, “She murmured sweet nothing at you and cradled you. Praise you.”

Every word has his head spinning. The memory of being wrapped in Firecracker’s arms flickered to life. He could feel her nipple between his teeth, the way she rocked him back and forth. He drank for what felt like a lifetime. 

Craves more. 

“Answer me, John.” 

He notches his hips and rocks them against your leg until you’re pinching his ear and moving out of the way. He whimpers, lips trembling, his cock aching and heavy between his legs. His hips jerk forward again, searching for your leg, for the cushion, anything to give him friction. 

“Selfish boys don’t deserve to be hard.” The ice returns. It freezes him, numbing his fingers. His eyes burn, tears threatening to fall. 

He wants the warmth back. 

“Yes. Yes. I was selfish. I took until there was nothing left and have every night since. I’m sorry. I’m selfish.” He curls in on himself, tucking his legs as close to his body as he can. 

“Oh Baby boy,” It comes out smooth like silk. It drapes across his body. 

He rocks back with a moan. 

“I’m not angry, John.” It spread along him, reaching for his hands and tucking around his body. 

It’s almost drowning him.

“You’re not?” His voice is small. His mind slowed, the thoughts scattered around like blocks knocked over sliding into a box.

He thinks of sitting in the middle of his floor, legs crossed, looking out his window, and thinking of grass beneath his feet. It reminds him of the times they’d bring him outside. The rare times they allowed him to run as fast and as far as he could. The first time he flew, flying higher and higher until he swore he’d break the sky. Such few memories make him happy.

The memories he has, the ones that spin in his mind? They’re tinged gray, dark, painted in shadows. They’re all a time in his life when he realized they made him to be a tool for someone else. 

He remembers a time before he was The Homelander, Vought’s golden boy: the most powerful superhero. 

“No, Baby Boy. You sought pleasure. Why would I ever be angry about that? I want you to tell me the truth, Sweetheart. Good boys don’t tell lies, do they?” 

“No.” You laugh and it sinks into him until he lets go and floats.

You’re the only thing he can feel, smell, hear, hell, even taste. Your arms are his haven. Your voice is his drug, A secret addiction. 

This is his escape and he’ll return to it anytime he wants. Anytime he needs it. 

It’s why he keeps you safe.

Keeps you away from everyone. 

I mean, he thinks, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Save the fucking people.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Warm.” It slurred, slipping off his tongue with ease. He tastes the sweet flavor of a milkshake on his tongue. 

You chuckle again, moving your leg back down for him to rest against. He waits for his cock to ache again, to thrust forward and fuck against you 

That urge is gone.

He wants to fall asleep and listen to you murmur above him. Would you sing to him? Something he doesn’t know, but every word makes sense because it’s coming from you. 

“Will you sing to me?” 

“Of course.” Your chest rumbles, his eyes growing heavy.

He listens to the words, rolling off your tongue to drape over him. He settles into it, sinking deeper and deeper until he’s cacooned. Your singing dragging him beneath the surface to float away.

[aurorawritestoescape]

FLOWER

Pairing: post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Tw: 18+ mdni, dead dove do not eat! dark fic! creator chose not to use all the warnings, unprotected piv, rough sex, enthusiastic consent, praise, choking, heavy angst

I didn’t include some warnings so as not to spoil the fic. If you wanna know them before reading DM me🖤

Word count: 900

A/n: Thank you for the moodboard and the writing challenge @iamasaddie ❤️ Your creativity never stops to amaze me😘😘😘

Masterlist

*****

Joel’s gripping the shovel tight, scowling at the first rays of the rising sun. A drop of sweat is sliding down the side of his face while he’s working tirelessly. His plaid shirt is completely soaked and an early morning breeze makes him shiver.

It’s the second time today that he’s sweating so profusely. The first one was a few hours ago when he was fucking you on his bed. Still wearing his shirt and jeans having just returned from a shift he was ruining your tight pussy as his sweat was dripping on your naked breasts.

“Sorry for waking ya up, baby. Need this,” he growled thrusting into you. “Fuck, that’s my girl!” he praised you, his face hovering over yours, after you tilted your hips up and opened your thighs wider for him to plunge deeper into your core. Your white nightie was bunged up in his fist, the skirt pulled up to your waist so he could see your greedy cunt swallowing his cock. His other hand found its usual place around your throat. Squeezing and letting go. And squeezing again.

***

You were always hungry for him, always ready to give yourself entirely. You never minded the dull ache of the stretch when his cock was splitting you in half. You loved the pain he bestowed on you, be it from his thick member or his harsh hands. You cherished every bruise and every scratch. He kissed them all after, gliding his calloused thumb over the ever changing rainbow of his marks on your body.

You’d been together only for a few months but his effect on you was tsunami-like. He quickly became your lover, your man, your god. You were new in town and the people in Jackson told you in a hushed voice to run, to escape, to leave him. He had a bad reputation, bloody trail of his past never seemed to wash off having turned him into a recluse. Yet no one could go against Maria’s brother-in-law. “He’s dangerous, violent, unstable”, well-wishers whispered in your ear at every opportunity when he wasn’t next to you. Which was rare. He became a major part of your life, all your life actually.

***

The first time he choked you, you came all over his thick thighs drowning his cock which was buried deep in your pussy. Soon you both couldn’t get enough of that feeling. Complete submission to Joel had already nested in your soul and you longed to give him more.

He’d never tell you but just the thought of holding your life in his hands like that made his cock throb. He loved your reaction to his hand wrapped around your neck. Joel groaned when your pussy vibrated around him, your cunt kissing his length. You looked so beautiful, your eyes rolled back, mouth opened desperate for air, your walls massaging his cock. He wanted to squeeze every part of you as if you were sand running through his fingers. He loosened his grip on your neck as soon as he started coming filling you up with his warm load. The color returned to your pretty face. You took a deep breath making up for the lack of oxygen and a surge of endorphins made you explode on his cock. You were in a pleasant daze after that and when he took you in his arms and stroked your hair you felt how much he loved you.

***

Today that love turned rotten. Poisonous. Suffocating. After fucking you still half asleep he sat up and put you on his lap with your back leaning against his broad chest. He was thrusting up into you and you helped him bouncing on his fat cock with your knees planted on the bed. His fingers were twitching your nipppes and rubbing your clit until his hand snaked up to the base of your throat and gripped it tightly. Your moan got muffled midway out of your lips and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Love feeling your pulse, baby,” Joel murmured in your ear as your vein was fluttering under the pads of his fingers and your pussy began buzzing around his cock. Your hand was clenching his hair, the other gripping his forearm. You felt his muscles tighten as his fingers were squeezing your neck.

Soon Joel started shooting his cum into your womb and got lost in his high. Your pussy was making him feel so good. He missed how your hand tugged on his hair a few times and then fell on the bed. His spend was dripping out of your hole when his fingers finally parted from your throat.

*****

He stares at the ground and imagines you standing in front of him in your white nightie. You plant a soft kiss on his weathered lips and give him a warm smile. His dick twitches and he hates himself for it. He picks up the shovel and goes home.

There he doesn’t bother washing his hands. They’ll never be clean again. What’s done is done. And he’s done so many unspeakable things. Lost so much due to his mistakes.

He grabs his revolver from the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed. He thinks of all the people he lost. All the people he hurt. He thinks of you, a pretty flower crushed by his brutal hand and his eyes sting with tears.

Today he’ll pay for all his sins. Today he won’t miss.

*****

Thank you for reading!

Let me know what you think❤️ your comments and reblogs will make me very happy!

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hey congratulations🤩🤩, Steven Grant with 24&9

.⋆｡Dear Professor｡⋆.

Steven Grant x plus size reader

When Steven finally gets a job as a tour guide for the British Museum, you decide you need to celebrate him.

Warnings: established relationship, smut, unprotected sex, chair sex, little bit of role-play, oral (m receiving), praise

WC: 589

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

Knock knock.

Steven looked up from his new work schedule to see you leaning against the pillar, fist resting against the dark wood, in front of his desk. Confused, he pushed his reading back up his large nose and suddenly the breath was knocked from his lungs. 

You were wearing an absolutely tiny pleated skirt that did little more than cover the very top of your plump thighs and a white button-up with one of his ties. Steven swallowed thickly. “Wha-what are you doing love?”

You smirked and pulled at the tie around your neck. “Oh professor, I'm willing to do anything for some extra credit.” You cooed, your voice dropping to a sultry tone that made your partner freeze with arousal. 

Your wide hips swung sensually as you walked around to the other side of his cluttered desk to stand between his legs. “I know I’ve missed a few assignments but I’m willing to put in some real work to make it up to you.” Steven was barely even breathing as you kneeled before him, your hands slipping up his khaki pants to rest just centimetres from his growing cock.

“I-I.” Was all he could manage to get out before he began to whine. You winked at him and rocked up onto your knees. You placed a gentle kiss to his bulge and then took his fly between your teeth, slowly pulling it down. 

His cock springs free, slapping against his still clothed belly, leaving a small wet spot on the dark fabric. You nosed at his hot length, licking at the few veins that snaked up to his now purple tip. “Mmm professor.” You hummed. Steve bucked in your hold, desperately trying to get some much needed friction.

“P-please love, please.” He begged, fingers curling into a tight fist. He fought the urge to push your sweet mouth down onto his cock even if you were teasing him so cruelly. You smirked wickedly before finally putting him out of his misery.

Your lips closed around his tip, the delectably salty taste of his pre-cum exploding on your tongue. Steven let out a beautiful moan, his voice rising in pitch as his head fell back between his shoulders. Slowly, you swallowed down even more of him until your nose was pressed against the thick thatch of hair at the base of his pelvis.

“Holy- I- Oh by the gods.” His eyes cracked open and then immediately slammed shut. You were too beautiful, too sexy on your knees before him. The sight alone was enough to rocket him to his end and he really wanted to make this last. “That’s it, keep going. Such a good girl.” You moaned, your plump thighs pressed together to bring relief to your own aching sex. 

Unable to take it anymore, you pulled off his cock and immediately straddled his strong thighs, not even giving his length time to get cold before he was notched at your entrance and you were sinking down onto him.

“Jesus, loosen up, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He groaned through gritted teeth, his hands coming up to grip at your plush hips beneath the skirt.  You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you began to bounce atop him.

You pressed your lips right behind his ear. “I’m so proud of you baby, you deserve this promotion, you deserve to do what you love.” His cock twitched wildly within you, the praise going right to his head- both of them. “Now let me spoil you my love.”

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @km-ffluv

Marvel

@lokiandbuckysdoll @andreasworlsboring101 @pretty-npeach @luvvvjada @cakesandtom@elizabethmidnight2017 @beautyb1ade @bitchy-bi-trash @mewlingoizys @queer_poncho @everything-is-awesomesauce

[elvenlia]

Endeavor x reader

Her mind felt like it was ready to explode with everything she had just witnessed on the television screen. Endeavors oldest son, which everyone believed to have long passed, was actually the villian Dabi. And he announced it for the entire world to hear.

Her heart broke, for many reasons. For Shoto who witnessed it first hand, for Dabi - Touya for the years of built up pain and anguish and for Endeavor ...

Y/n had long since grown a bond with the Pro hero, having worked as his personal assistant from the age of 21 until now at 27. Six years of dealing with that stubborn, brash man.

Over the years she's learned to read him, read between the lines of his harsh words and lack of emotion. Once past those obnoxious barriers, he wasn't all that bad. At least not to her.

They had an odd dynamic, most thought. She was boisterous, outgoing, confident and kind. Where as he was rude, hard and emotionally inept.

She would tease him and laugh, while others would scurry away at the sight of a glare pointed their way. She wasn't afraid of him, nor intimidated.

He was her boss, she respected him of course, but she never let him treat her as if she was less than or below him. She would go toe to toe with him in any argument, never backing down.

She had even developed a bond with his family, against his will of course, at first. Though something he'd never say out loud was he was secretly grateful to her for that. She could be there for them in places he couldn't, hasn't.

Which brought y/n to where she was now, dropping everything to hop in her car and set herself on the way to Endeavor's office. She knew that's where he'd be after this whole disaster took place.

Just as she pulled onto the main road a phone call came through on her cell. Quickly she answered it, it was him.

" Hey, Enji I'm- "

" I need you .. "

" I know, I'm already on my way. I'll be there soon, okay? "

The only reply y/n got was silence on the other end before he hung up the phone. The way his voice cracked as he spoke only made her heart ache more for him.

Endeavor was know for being a bad father, that much was a fact. He was hardly a capable parent and let his greed and desire cloud his intentions when it came to his kids. Though in the past year or so he has been trying to do better, be better for them.

Y/n had stayed many hours over at the office listening to him speak about his children, so compassionate not one of them would believe even if they heard it come from his own mouth. Though she did, she believed him.

After grabbing some dinner for the man, y/n quickly entered the office building heading straight for Endeavors office and entering without a knock. They were the only two there.

"Okay, I texted Fuyumi and had dinner sent to your home for the kids. So their dinner is taken care of for tonight, they don't need to worry. And I brought you some tonkatsu, incase your hungry. "

Y/n spoke as she entered the office, setting the bag in front of the dazed man on his desk. Sliding her phone into her bag she hopped up onto the corner of his desk beside him, as she so commonly did. Though usually in work attire and not sweatpants but that didn't matter right now.

" How are you feeling, Enji? "

She asked softly, reaching a hand out to grasp his shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze which pulled him from his daze to finally notice she was there.

She was able to now get a better look at his face, the way his bottom lip trimbled mixed with the splotches of dried blood caked around his face and in his hair made her want to cry for the man.

She had never seen him look so absolutely defeated.

The look didn't suit him. She'd take his harsh glares and scowls any day.

" He's my own son and I never - "

He slammed a fist down on to the desk beside where she was sat near her thigh. Gritting his teeth so hard she could hear them scraping together as tears started to well in the corners of his eyes.

" You couldn't have known, Enji. He doesn't resemble ... he's different now. "

" He's been alive this whole time! I thought - I thought .. "

" I know, I know ..."

She shushed him as she pulled him into a tight embrace, rubbing soft circles into his back. This was the first time he'd ever allowed her to be this close to him, to show this type of vulnerability in front of her.

" It's all my fault ... I ruined him . "

She wished she had sweet comforting words to whisper softly to him, but she didn't. He was right, he did Touya very wrong and she wouldn't lie to him in sake of making the blow easier for him.

So she chose to stay quiet and allow him to weep, mumbling out incoherent words into her shoulder as she held him close.

After sometime of him staying buried in her shoulder he finally pulled away, now only a numb look reflected in his eyes.

" Let me take you home. "

She broke the silence, taking his hand in her much smaller one and giving it a gentle tug as to gesture him to follow her. She had also grabbed the bag of untouched food in her other hand as she lead the man out of his office building. Locking up as she went.

The car ride was quite, almost deafeningly quite. She had only ever drove him a handful of times, when his driver was unavailable, but everytime he'd nearly go into a fit over her driving skills. Though tonight it seemed he didn't care.

It was nearing midnight, she was hoping she wouldn't wake anyone as she dropped the man off at his home. Taking him inside, she sat him in the kitchen at the table, plating his food and once again sitting it in front of him.

" Eat, it'll make you feel better. "

She left the hero to his vices as she wondered into the living room, peeking around to see if anyone remained up. And to her surprise, a figure was sat before the fireplace, the fire long having died down.

" Sho? "

Y/n softly called to the boy, leaning over the couch to place a gentle touch to his shoulder.

" Y/n - .. "

His voice broke as he placed his hand over hers, his touch trembling.

" Oh Sho - I'm so sorry. "

She bit her lip to contain her own emotions which brewed dangerously in the pit of her stomach. Wrapping her arms around the boys shoulders from behind she gave him a tight squeeze, holding him in silence for a moment like she had done for his father.

" You should head to bed Sho, it's late and you deserve some sleep. "

He offered a sullen nod before sulking off down the hall.

Hearing footsteps coming up beside her, her attention was grabbed by arms engulfing her into a tight embrace, once again. She had noticed he had cleaned himself up and changed out of his hero costume finally.

She held Endeavor for the second time that night.

" Thank you for being here for my family and myself.. "

His once strong voice now dimmed and lower.

" You don't need to thank me, Enji. "

He shook his head slowly in reply, letting a moment pass by before speaking again.

" Please stay with me tonight? "

His question was so quiet, only meant for her ears as she took in his words. Softly she nodded, pulling away slightly from his embrace.

" I'll stay. "

It seems it wouldn't be the last time she'd be holding Endeavor close that night.

[giggly-squiggily]

Candy hearts

Platonic Ler! Draken, Lee! Baji, with ticklish hiccups (I think Baji would be so embarrassed)

Adore

Be Mine

Always and Forever

AHH! *explodes in glee* YESH! I wanted to write Lee!Baji something bad! Thank you friend! I've gotcha covered!

CW: Swearing

Adore: "I haven't even touched you yet!" + Be Mine: "Oh that's it- Come here!" + Always and Forever: "Look how red you are! How cute!"

“I haven’t even touched you yet!”

“I knohohohow! Fuhuuh-juhuhust doohoho it!” Baji cried out, hands balled into fists as he half hid behind them, his snickery laughs echoing through each breath. “Drahahahken!”

“Wow, someone’s pushy. I don’t take orders from anyone outside Mikey.” The blonde laughed, watching his friend giggling like a child beneath him. “Too bad for you, he’s not here. You’re on my time now-”

An unexpected yelp cut him off. Then another. Draken gaped, then grinned.

“Did you just hiccup?”

“Noohohohoo! Shihih- HIIC! Shuhuuhuht uhuuhuhp!” Baji cried out, covering his face with his hands as another dastardly hiccup escaped. “Dohohohon’t-HIC!-lohohohohk at mehehehehehe!”

“Oh my god, look how red you are!” Draken was laughing now, delighted at the sight. “And I haven’t even touched you! That’s it- we’re getting to the bottom of this, come here!” He grabbed the long haired teen beneath the ribs, squeezing rapidly. The reaction was near instantaneous.

“AH! Ahehahahhaha, fhhuhuhuhuck! Shihihihihit, shhiihhihiiht, shhehahahahhhahaha! Drahhaahahken!” Baji cried out, his hands grasping Draken’s as he flailed and squawked in mirth. All this hooting, but no hiccups! “Doohoohohohohn’t, you ahahhahahass!”

“Hmm..where are they?” Draken moved targets, ignoring Baji’s grip on him as he poked and prodded around his torso. Ribs got him titters and armpits made Baji howl like a beagle. Where…

When he drummed his fingers against the brunette’s stomach, the hiccups came back relentlessly. “Found it!”

“Nohohohohoho-hic! Hic! Stahahahahap, wahhahahahait, Drahahha-hic-ahahaken!” Baji squirmed like a worm beneath him, cheeks bright red and hair falling into his smiling face. “Gehehehehet ohohohoohoohff pleahhahahahse!”

“Hmm…alright.” Draken grinned as he pulled back, rolling off his friend as he watched Baji groan breathlessly in the grass. “I guess you’ve had enough. Man, wait until I tell Mikey!”

“Dohohon’t you-hic! Freahahahaking dare!” Baji tried to scowl, but the damn hiccups were here to stay. “Greeheh-hic!-at! Yoohohu got them  st-hic!-arted!”

“Ah, I did huh. Want me to fix it?” Draken leaned forward with wiggling fingers. Baji scrambled back with wide eyes.

“Ohohoho no! S-st-hic!-ay over the-hic!-re! Drahahhaken!”

Send me a candy heart and I'll write a dabble for it!

[flailypichu]

Everyone collects themselves after that near death (not even near death, they watched him die and reform) experience and decide to put off the trip to the moon for at least a day, just to breathe and process. And make sure Ashton doesn't explode again. Like, really make sure.

Fearne doesn't make eye contact with him, each clop of her hooves sounding deep in his body as she gets further away. She links arms with Imogen and Laudna, who glance back at them with twin worried and frustrated expressions. Ashton doesn't think he burned any bridges today, but a few of them are heavily singed to match the rest of him.

FCG and Chetney help them up to their rooms, where Lord de Rolo has banished them to recuperate, Lady Allura still stunned behind him while he gave the order, face blank as she processes what could have happened. The smaller members of the group aren't honestly that much help when it comes to his movement, but if FCG could be pale, they would be, so Ashton lets them hold his hand and appreciates the warm flow of healing still being pumped into him.

And that leaves Orym. Quiet by nature, Ashton is disconcerned to find him near silent. He appears to have retreated into some sort of training, because even though he can see Orym moving slightly behind him, the halfling makes no noise. It's not until they reach the room Ashton was sharing with FCG that Orym says "I'll take them. I bought some healing potions before this, that I can use if we need to. You two get some rest, that took a lot out of you, Letters."

FCG pushes one last burst of healing into Ashton and squeezes their hand. With a firmness rarely heard, they say, "we are going to talk about that later. When I've gathered my thoughts." Ashton wants to bring him in for a hug, but the body language says he wouldn't be welcome. Tomorrow, maybe.

The two of them transfer his care to Orym and Chetney gives a small wave, pulling a lingering FCG into his room. Ashton can hear him muttering something to FCG but doesn't try to make it out, focus narrowing to the small figure standing like a statue in front of him.

Orym also hasn't met his eyes once since he opened them. Ashton waits.

With a hand on his thigh, Orym pushes him into the room and shuts the door. The silence presses in on them, and Ashton almost breaks the silence, but knows any words he wants to say need to take a back seat to whatever is brewing in Orym.

"What was that." Orym's voice comes flat like a bit of flint, wanting to be struck. Ashton chooses his words carefully.

"The stronger I am, the better chance we have to win this fight. The shard made me stronger."

"The shard made you dead." And Ashton does flinch at that. A tiny convulsion of muscles he doesn't have, at the pain in Orym's voice that's seeping into the coldness. "You exploded, and you reformed, and we watched while only two of us could do anything at all." His fists shake by his sides and with effort he flexes them and sits down on the bed. Ashton doesn't sit next to him, but on the floor in front, forcing himself to look up into eyes that swell with tears. Ashton makes an aborted movement towards Orym's hands, stopping themselves at the last moment, only for Orym to close the gap and squeeze.

Tears begin to slip silently down his cheeks and Ashton doesn't regret his choice - he's alive, he has more power with which to help his friends - but he regrets that it caused these tears. "I'm alive, I made it. Orym-" and he rocks back with the force of Orym throwing his arms around them. Long buried instincts kick in and he lifts his arms to return the embrace. Orym has always been careful with his touches, especially with Ashton, and the intensity of this one gives him pause. Orym pulls back and runs his hands through his hair, making it stick up with sweat.

"You idiot -" and suddenly Ashton is being kissed for the second time that day. After the shard settled he'd felt warmth flood his body, and then recede to a gentle simmer. It comes rushing back with the feel of Orym's chapped lips pressed to his, and he rests his hands on Orym's waist, unable to do anything more than helplessly kiss back.

And as soon as it started, Orym retreats and is halfway to the door before Ashton stands up with some notion of stopping him. But Orym stops at the threshold, turning back to say, "I don't know if what I'm feeling for you is going anywhere, but you dying before I can figure it out isn't going to help anyone. Stop throwing yourself into danger, Ashton. Please." And with that he's gone.

Ashton stands stock still, lips buzzing, new arm tingling. "Well, fuck."

[bleachedjuice]

'To Whom The Bells Toll'

Warnings: mentions of warfare, angst, and a special supirse at the end MWAHAHAHAHHA

Enjoy~

Warmth.

That was all you craved. Wanted. And now, now here you where knee deep in swamp lands with goop containing the gods only know what. The smell was sulfur like and gritty, not like the smell of fresh dirt at all. It was putrid, puffy, thick, and strong. It was like a sickly sweet after smell, sticking to your lungs in their shallow breaths as they desperately squeezed any remnants of this damned air out of them and into the cold world with a puff of smoke billowing out of your body like a dragon.... your face was bitterly numb as your muscles ached... you've been sitting at this nest for what seemed forever.. your comms were silent and still as ever as you trickled against the cold air beneath your thick clothing and as small droplets dripped onto your Luke warm body.

"Fucking hell...."

Soaps voice called out behind you, he was your backup, left up here to help you out in case it was foreshadowed and needed that someone or a group had found your little nest and decided to get a dog fight between you two and them. Price had decided that it was safer leaving the Sargeant of his group up here with a commander than to risk both lines of command entirely. And you bit your teeth back as you scowled as the rain came down harder.

"Don't worry Soap, they'll be out soon, they gotta be."

"Fuckin better"

He mumbled, and then something shining caught your eye.. or well reflected off of your scopes' lenses. Stifling your muscles, you creened into your gun like you two where one...melded together even.

And then you saw a head..narrowing your eyes yoru nostrils flared in anticipation....not one of yours nor 141. You then lulled the trigger into a stiff pull and watched as the body fell.

"Soap, I give em... not even five more minutes until we scope closer in to see what the hell their doing down there."

"Your the boss."

Stifling a groan at the comment, you then shrugged some rain off your body, feeling it seep into your now darkened sky...the stream lights pouring into the area around it..that base... you then huffed and went to roll into a crouch to get yourself up and moving, until you heard the comm static....and then gun fire...and then a yell. Simon... loud bang..then nothing.

You then looked at Soap before you scrambled to your feet and stared ahead, and made your way down the mountain side...but before you two could even fathom touching the bottom a whistle spooked through the air...and then you ran pike hell as a grenade exploded behind your two now racing figures...hoping your dark clothing would seal you both into the darkness and rain as it snuck unto the cold night around it... and it did... the only thing you both heard as your own heartbeat and adrenaline pulsing into your veins.

The forest surrounded you now, both close and tight knit figures, as you spoke hushly into the comms.

"This is bravo 0-2 with bravo 0-7. What is going on down there?"

Nothing...pure static.

You motioned to Soap as you two crept closer and closer... and then you spoke hushly. "Your going to go through that side area that's open, see it?"

"Yeah.. but what about you?"

"I'll be going through the hatch up there,"

Cutting yourself up you pointed to the hatch near the roof area...where parked truck was just below it.

"I'll climb up that truck and make my way in. It'll be more heavier guarded than the area I'm sending you in. Soap.. be careful."

"Will do commander."

And with that and a simple fist bump and nods. You both went you separate ways... you trickled down the now muddle hill side as the ground below you swallowed your boots and the rain that piujddd down onto your now moving figure. Stinging your skin as you moved... until you then leaped and landed at the base of the mountain. And you took off running until you approached a covered area of the gate...and wire cutters gripped your hand as you snipped a whole into the fence... and weaved your way into base... before you hugged the walls and left the watch towers alone, not being in the mood to alering the entire base that there were intruders amongst its walls.

You then coddled the shadows like a babe until you saw the coast was clear to make a sprint for the truck..and you did. Climbing up its side with such urgency had your ears ringing with nervousness..

And then you hoisted yourself up the upside of the trucks bulging metal stomach and landed on its smooth silver roof. You then slowly slid on your stomach and scooted toward the opening, glad to have avoided the gaurds that were now perching your shadowed area without a fuss or an issued sound or incident.

You then slid toward the opened hutch of the grated window side and went in legs first, sliding you but in a scoot like manner as you held your breath before letting go of the truck behind you and descended in a sliding manner down the thick glass window and into darkness with a slight thump of your boots.

Fuck. You then looked around before whispering into your comms.

"I'm in Soap, any updates?"

Silence...than static....

"This is Soap, I'm in, I found 141, and some of Kortac, Your teams also in position out of the range awaiting to be back up to pick us up...but Königs not here..."

"Copy that....eyes peeled for Jolly green giant. Got ya. Get everyone else outta here... and remorse my words to my team, await my command on via comms to take off even if I'm not out. "

Prices voice shouted through the comms...pissed.

"But-"

"No buts. No use to risk three whole teams for two people. When I say go, they'll take off with your two and mine In tow."

"Roger"

Bitter and resentment of Haltering words broke out into the comms from Soap as Prices muffled mumbling baked into your mind through the comms.

"Fuck..."

Muttering to yourself, you then looked around in the greenish lit area, noticing how dull and sickly it looked, like a horror movie. You shifted quietly through the halls and then whipped around a corner to find a door at the end...and two rooms on each side with unopened doors. Shuddering your sniper rifle and puckering out your hand gun and blade you crept silently and turned into the two rooms farthest from the last three first...clear...and then the next...clear...before you stood in front of the door....and with a silent prayer you swung the door open to see a mangled looking and heavily breathing König his eyes wide on you like a frantic stallion.... and four men... three bullets left your gun... two down for good..one injured..and the other barreling you into the wall like a bull. And then your head cracked harshly against the wall, and your body felt numb, and your vision went blurry as you felt yourself get thrown into the desk occupying the area, your body skidding across it and it's holdings with a crash as you hit the floor dazed.... and you heard König shout...no...

Roar.. as your body staggered a moment before you whipped your hand around for your blade...fuck... you then saw a pencil...that'll do...

You then heard a click...and then a glint in your non blind side.. and then the pressure.

"One wrong move, and I'll muster your face to mangle into a more fucking ugly look."

[the-iceni-bitch]

Shaped and Molded

Kinktober Day II: Latex Kink

Pairing; Jake Jensrn x fem reader (Jake and Khaleesi)

Words: ~1k

Summary: Jake just loves everything you do.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (over the clothes stuff, some dirty talk) discussion of sex work, Jake is adorable, fluff, they’re in love, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: They’re so fucking cute you guys!!!!! I really need to write them more! And get Jake as a boyfriend because he is perfect 🥹

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!

Jake was so fucking nervous, his leg jiggling no matter how much he tried to control his thoughts as he stared at your front door. It took him a good three minute before he was finally able to raise his fist to knock, chewing on his lip and he thought about exactly what he wanted to talk to you about.

“Jakey!” As soon as you opened the door he felt himself melt, meeting your warm smile with a dopey grin while he thought about selling everything he owned so he could buy you presents. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work this weekend.”

“Couldn’t do it, not when I knew you were all by yourself… oh my god.” The moment he stepped inside and set eyes on you he could have fainted, his eyes drinking you in as he almost dropped everything he was holding. “What are you wearing?”

“Hmm? Oh!” You beamed at him when you turned around after he stopped in your doorway, turning around slowly and running your fingers over the slick latex that was clinging to your body. “I’m trying out a new routine and wanted a new outfit for it. What do you think?”

What he thought was that he was going to have a stroke. On a normal day, you were already so beautiful and perfect he would be willing to let you use him as a sidewalk if he thought it would make you happy. But now? With every inch of you covered and absolutely nothing left to the imagination? He wanted to touch every inch of you and feel the soft curves of your body mold to his fingers as he slid his cock between the swollen valley between your legs until he exploded.

“Jake?” You were still giving him that gorgeous smile that had him wanting to fall to his knees and worship you, and all he could do was blink at you like an idiot while he tried to get himself under control. “You like it, muffin?”

“Ahem, yeah.” He cursed himself when his voice cracked, immediately forgetting about his embarrassment when you stepped forward and pressed your body close to his. “You… you look great.”

“You think so?” If you kept smiling at him like that he was going to propose right then, leaning forward so he could rub his nose against yours and feeling like his heart was about to burst from his chest when he finally put his hands on you. “Not too revealing?”

“I mean, definitely not something you should wear on a trip to the grocery store.” He chuckled when you pinched his hip with a playful snarl, pecking you on the nose as he kept sliding his palms over your body. “But I’m guessing it’s for your job, and it’s perfect for that, sweets.”

“Thank you, muffin.” You bit your lip when he cupped your tits and groaned into your mouth as he squeezed them. “You wanna see my routine?”

“Maybe later.” He couldn’t stop touching you, the way his fingers slid over the latex and the latex slid over your skin was making him obsessed. “You feel incredible.”

“Mmm, Jakey.” You purred when he gently pinched your nipples through the jumpsuit, sliding your hands over his shoulders as you batted your eyelashes at him. “You know, it feels even better when it’s wet and slippery and sliding over your bare skin.”

“Oh?” So, you were trying to kill him today, that was it.

“Yeah.” You grasped one of his hands with both of yours and drew it up to your face, kissing his palm before slowly dragging it down your body so his fingers could fit in the warm cleft at the apex of your thighs. “It’s been rubbing against my wet pussy all day, muffin, making me so fucking needy.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” His resolve snapped in an instant, the hand between your legs giving you a soft slap that made you yelp while his other curled around your neck so he could smash your lips together. “I love you so much, you little freak.”

You squealed with delight when he wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you off the floor, pressing kisses all over his face as he struggled to undress himself with one hand. Jake murmured thanks against your lips when you helped him remove his shirt, nipping at you with a teasing bark when you started to undo his jeans.

Then he had you exactly where he wanted you, your gorgeous body splayed over the couch in a way that made you look exactly like the masterpiece you were, his leaking cock fitting perfectly into the outline of the crease of your pussy lips. He growled when he gave the first tentative grind of his hips, his shaft easily sliding over the latex as his precum started smearing all over your stomach when he leaned down to mold his body to yours.

Every sound you made as he rubbed his cock over your cunt was utterly lovely, soft and breathy and full of need, and he swallowed each one greedily as he brushed his lips over yours and gazed into your eyes, at least until his rolled back in his head as he felt himself starting to lose it. The feeling of your fingers running through his hair and your softly murmured ‘please’ sent him over the edge, his hips jerking against you as he exploded just like he knew he would while you shuddered and arched your body to meet his.

“See? Didn’t that feel good, muffin?” You kissed him tenderly when he collapsed on top of you with a deep sigh, beaming at him when he pulled back and rested his chin in his hand. “And it’s so easy to clean! Oh, you didn’t even get to tell me why you were visiting!”

“Hmm? Right!” Jake gave you a sloppy grin as he gazed at you lovingly, so happy and fucked out he didn’t even care about building up to it. “You wanna move in with me?”

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ october 2023

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: my writing tracker spreadsheet says 21 543 but a lot of that was just rewriting The Gemini Heist in preparation for nano so does that really count

projects worked on: The Gemini Heist

proudest accomplishment: i was actually able to make a decision about what to do for nano weeks before november and i haven't changed my mind yet, although there are still 12 hours before november so who knows, really

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

sooooooooo i don't remember if i mentioned it yet but Andromeda Rogue is on a bit of a hold at the moment because editing was making me miserable and i think i need some time to step back. sorry to anyone who wanted to see it published sooner than later but i was struggling lmao.

anyways, i'll be doing gemini heist for nano!

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (draft 0)

i'm gonna try to get the shittiest draft of this wip done for nano because it's been dragging on for sooooo long (i've had the idea simmering in my head since spring 2022 and started drafting in summer 2022) and i feel like if i don't just dew it i'll never get anywhere with it.

also because the longer it stays in that nebulous unwritten state the more i tweak with it and the most likely it is to break. i think i've broken it a few times already and had to restart lmao. if that makes sense.

anyways i'm hoping to at least get the general structure of the story down by writing the shittiest draft imaginable, an at least taht way i have something concrete to build on.

i did cheat a bit in october tho and rewrote the beginning chapters of gemini heist that i'd already written. partly to get back into the feel of this wip and partly to fix some stuff that simply didn't work anymore after nearly a year of tweaking, and it was driving me insane to know those discrepancies existed.

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

because it's halloween and because this update is kinda short, here's a treat: a slightly longer excerpt! this is before Illiana joins the Sirens on their mission, and she is not having a good time.

[Illiana] yanked on the handle. The door opened, and she stumbled into her musty-smelling motel room. Two plasma shots greeted her. Illiana dropped to the floor just in time to avoid getting the top of her hood singed. She blindly flung out her arm towards the silhouette standing over her bed. Heat pooled in her palm, exploding into a gust of violet light that struck her attacker in the thigh.  But they were not to be deterred. Charging at her with barely a limp, they thrust a weapon— they were moving too fast for Illiana to be able to make out what kind of weapon it was exactly— and fired again. This time, Illiana aimed for their hand, reaching out with her power, creating a brilliant arc that wrapped itself around their wrist. With a flex of her fingers, she tugged at the light like a cord as hard as she could.  The assailant stumbled forward and bumped their head on the corner of the scuffed up dresser. They let out a high pitched yowl, the weapon falling to the floor with a clatter.  Illiana was only able to catch a glimpse of the symbol stamped on the blaster’s side before she kicked it under the bed and out of her attacker’s reach, but it was enough for her to recognize the diamond crest of the House of Dyonas’ special guard.  Up until that moment, Illiana had been operating on an automatic fight response, but upon seeing the symbol, panic shot through her body. Disarming them was completely pointless, she realized.  The attacker proved it a second later as they slammed a glowing purple fist into Illiana’s chest. For an agonising moment, her ribs and lungs and heart felt like they were both blazing hot and freezing cold at once. It took a monumental effort to take in a single breath, as if a giant invisible hand were wrapped around her, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. Through the haze in her mind, she managed to focus her own energy into her chest and explode it around her like a bomb, releasing her from their grasp. By Fiolsgadd, Illiana thought wildly, stumbling backwards into the doorway once the suffocating feeling passed and she could gasp for air. Kalen’s fiolsridder have found me.

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

general taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @onomatopiya @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

gemini heist taglist:

@florraisons @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @nicola-writes @memento-morri-writes @antique-symbolism @rose-bookblood @afoolandathief @pepperdee @avi-why @zonnemaagd @chazzawrites @analogued @enchanted-lightning-aes @innocentlymacabre @kahvilahuhut @celestepens @cilly-the-writer @extra-magichours @onomatopiya @outpost51

🎃👻HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!🍬🦇

[cevans-is-classic]

18+ only, please. Sexual content, sexual thoughts, and language.

My Masterpost is here

And Sebby is here

It always starts with his lips.

They brush over yours, leaving fire trails down your throat, pulling back to bare his teeth.

He nips at your collarbone, making you moan and jerk beneath him. His hand travels from your hip, over your ribs, tracing a line beneath your chest. He makes you gasp, silent, a drop of your jaw.

You do whimper when his fingers pinch your nipples, mind swimming with the dual sensation of his lips burning you up and his teeth latching on.

It makes your head spin.

He takes you apart one lick, one flick, one nip at a time until he changes the pace. He pauses for a beat, licking your nipple before tilting back and blowing on it. You moan, a shaky sound, and feel him moving down your torso, kissing over your ribs, dipping into your belly button, being sure to stop and suck bruises into your skin.

Here, you notice the stubble on his cheeks, how it scrapes along your hip and lower belly. You twitch, shift, and he grins at you.

“Stay still.” His voice is deep, rumbling, dragging from his throat. You want him to say more to grumble your name. The need it would cause to hear filthy words drip from his tongue.

Fuck his tongue.

You cry out, stifling the sound with your fist, and Seb takes that as an insult. He pulls you closer and drags you down the bed to push harder against you. His tongue licking you open, fingers digging into your thighs, that damn stubble turning your skin sensitive.

It makes you a jerk — little zaps run up and down your thighs. They collect in your stomach it has you notching your hips knocking into Seb’s chin.

He moans, hand slipping from your thigh to lift your leg higher, pushing it to rest against his shoulder.

Those fingers.

That tongue.

Your body trembles, whimpers falling from your lips, and he’s slipping them inside you. His tongue presses against your clit and he curls them.

“Fuck-fuck!” Your hip snaps, pulling away from his face.

Seb makes a sound, a deep groan before he holds you tighter, spreads your legs further, and goes harder.

“Shit. Shit.” Your fingers curl into the sheets, twisting, tearing trying to hold yourself still.

Those little zaps are exploding inside your stomach, thighs tightening, body jerking trying to move faster but failing.

It’s right there.

Right fucking there.

“What do you think?” Seb lifts his mouth, your slick dripping from his chin.

“Uh-”

“Are you okay?” Your vision swims and a hand waves in front of your face.

Oh.

Seb is frowning at you, his brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

Your cheeks burn, red hot, stomach swooping deep as embarrassment sinks into your chest.

Oh, God no.

“I’m sorry. I think I zoned out. Uh, can, uh, you say that again?”

Seb blinks for a moment before nodding. “Figured we could do some shots later in the day. It’ll add to the ‘changing of the seasons’ vibe.” He shakes his phone and your eyes dart down to the table.

His fingers curl around the device, tips pressing into the screen. He squeezes them once, twice, and then sets the phone down.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry.” Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. He leaned closer to knock his elbow against you. It drags your eyes back to his - his eyes blue screen your mind.

“Did you get any sleep?”

Your heart beats faster.

Sweat collects along your collar and you remember your fingers between your legs. The buzz making you twitch making flashing lights explode behind your eyelids. The memory of Sebastian’s voice in your ear driving you closer and closer - yeah, you didn’t get sleep last night.

“Not, uh, not really.”

“I understand that. I don’t sleep well when I’m on a project.” He leans back in the chair and stretches his arms above his head.

You swallow the noise that rises and choke on the sudden pressure in your throat. The first cough drops you forward, fist banging against your chest, throat aching.

“Woah.” Sebastian reaches for you, hand sliding along your shoulder blades to pat at your back.

A flash of his hand in the same spot pushing you into the mattress.

Oh God.

“I’m okay.” You wave him off, “So, uh, what were you thinking about the shoot?”

The dip in his forehead comes back, eyebrows drawing together. He cocks his head to the side. “I think we can call it for the day.”

“What? It’s only noon?”

“Yeah, and this is my idea. Go get some sleep, okay?” He touches your knee, fingers wrapping around the bend, squeezing once, twice and your body stiffens.

“Thanks.” He doesn’t move his hand.

Neither of you move

“You can stay here if you’d like.” You look back up at him, watching his brow raise.

It feels like you’re going to choke again.

“Yeah,” You croak out, “Yeah, cool thanks.”

Seb smiles and squeezes his hand again before lifting to his feet. The space helps you breathe, letting oxygen rush back into your lungs with dizzying speed.

Holy fuck.

The clack of plastic jerks your head up. Seb leans against the sink, a bottle of water dangling between his fingers. His eyes are dark, head tilted to look at you

And you can see him grab your hair, tipping your head back to mark your neck. His fingers gripping your thigh to keep you up, keep you open for him.

You see him roll his hips and ache to feel the slide of his cock. How hard it’d feel between your thighs, pre-come leaving trails when he thrusts forward.

When he slides into you — fuck, God — the way it’d fill you up and leave you empty all at once.

His eyes would darken, his hand holding your head in place to watch as he fucks into you. Watch how his hips snap against your ass and the sharp smack of skin on skin.

You know he’d be gorgeous like that. His skin slick with sweat, heated where it touches you, his mouth open with a pant.

Fuck.

“Watch.” He’d squeezed the fingers in your hair.

“What are you thinking about?” There’s a snapping noise, louder than the slide of your bodies together.

You blink, shaking your head to see Seb looking down at you.

“Uh-”

“Was it me?” There’s a glint in his eye. He cocks his brow.

“What?” You twitch, your arm hitting the table, and Seb snorts.

“Was it?” He lifts his chin, bringing the water to his lips. His eyes never break from his and it burns fire in your stomach.

“Uh, if — if it-”

The bottle crinkles when he sits it down, his feet whispering against the floor as he steps towards you.

There he is.

You lean back as he leans forward, bending until his hand holds the chair and the other palms the table.

“It was me.”

You can count his eyelashes and notice every pore and the twitch of his eye.

He smells amazing.

Strong. Heady.

“It was you.” Nothing but a whisper.

Seb bites his lip and tilts back for a moment before swinging forward to catch you in a kiss. It knocks the chair sideways, making you drop.

Seb goes with you, dropping to the ground with a pained grunt. His lips never stop, hands following the path of your shirt down to your hips. The drag of his thumb over your lower belly makes you shiver.

“What was I doing?” He lifts your shirt, smiling when you pull it over your head. He doesn’t hesitate to drag you back into a kiss.

There’s a moment, a single moment, where Seb winces and flinches away. Your brain catches up to flash your eyes open.

Sebastian is kneeling, teetering back onto his heels, then forward. His left knee knocks on the floor with a thud.

“Well, damn.” He huffs out a laugh.

His cheeks are flaming red, eyes shiny with embarrassment.

You tug your undershirt off, pulling at your shorts before standing up.

Seb’s eyes follow you, but he doesn’t move.

The shorts pool around your feet, catching on your ankle when you step forward. He reaches and lifts your foot to pull the fabric away.

“You want me to tell you?” He rises to his feet with a nod.

“Please.”

Your hand moved to his pants, tugging at them until the button pops “Come on, then.” Hooking your finger into the waistband of his briefs, you drag him out of the kitchen.

“Come here.”