#YOU SLIPPERY SLIPPERY FUCKING EEL

[britcision]

Y’all I already hated their existence but godfuckingdammit the fucking white supremacists are gonna make me say nice things about TRUDEAU

Fucking Wonderbread himself and now cuz THEY hate on him for stupid shit I gotta “no chucklefucks that’s a good thing he did”

Like he’s dropped the ball so many goddamn times there’s so many reasons to say “fuck Trudeau”

BUT RECOGNISING SCIENCE AND NOT JUST EUTHANISING THE DISABLED BY POLICY IS NOT ONE OF THEM

Ugggggggggh

[hirudou]

before i start getting ready for bed:

jade works the employees at the mostro lounge very hard. there is no leniency there even if most of them are volunteers. not that he doesn't work hard himself! he does-- he maintains a lot of the lounge( if not the majority of it )very well. and manages to juggle a myriad of different tasks and schedules at once. the very least he expects the other employees to do is deliver on what they've signed up for. if you slack off, or play around-- there will be consequences..

yes. he does let his brother get away with skipping shifts. and even covers for him in the event he really cannot convince him otherwise. but at least he pulls his weight when he does show for them. jade's favoritism when it comes to floyd isn't anything new--- they're siblings, it's whatever. if azul wants to get on floyd about it then that's out of his hands.

[geezmarty]

we all know that wyllstarion goes crazy as hell but you really have to think about it from Wyll’s perspective. You’re the most fairy tale brained man on earth whose life is a continued sequence of romantic and heroic ideals set up to fail. You want to be a heroic duke and save your city but wind up making a pact with a devil. You want to use that pact for good and are almost (or straight up) tricked into killing an innocent. You go on the most princely quest of all to ask a dragon for his help and we all know how that ends. And then in comes Astarion jangling like the most weaselly evil court advisor, a vampire no less and you’re like actually fuck it this slippery eel is where it’s AT. and this time you actually do get a happy ending with it. it goes crrrrazyyyy

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: broken bones, masturbation, slightly bratty pillow princess reader, oral, fingering, penetrative sex.

Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, thanks 😁

W/c: ~3200

You wished you had a cool backstory, an epic tale that involved maybe saving a dog from being run over by a truck, protecting an old lady from a mugger, or helping stop a horde of ninjas taking over Hell’s Kitchen, but no… the reason that both your wrists and most of your hands were currently wrapped in rigid plaster casts was the result of just being a little bit too tipsy. It wasn’t even really your fault if you dug right into it, it was Karen who had invited you out to Josie’s while Frank was out running rooftops with Matt for the past week or so. You were bored and just wanted to relax and have a bit of fun. It wasn’t fair (or your fault) that you didn’t possess any super senses or were particularly competent in any useful skill other than downing the infamous ‘eel’ (or probably more like ‘worm’) contained in the disturbingly cloudy bottle of tequila in the aforementioned bar, and if the pavement had been uneven (again, not your fault) and you tripped over, flung out your arms to brace yourself and stop yourself from falling right on your face then…

Frank wasn’t impressed. Barely sympathetic when he heard your pained complaints as you sobered up late the next morning, making you wince and swear blind at him as he checked out both your swollen and bruised limbs to confirm, “Yep, you’ve broken em.” he said in a grouchy ‘it’s your own fault’ kinda way. Boo.

Unfortunately, this time your comfort method had backfired spectacularly. You woke up in the middle of the night hornier than you’d been for a long time. The wrong-sized sweatpants were bunched up between the apex of your thighs rubbing against your clit as you tossed and turned in your sleep, the crotch of them was almost drenched with how turned on you were and now you just wanted nothing more than to get off.

You huffed in frustration, you’d gone to bed last night like every other night for the past while, alone. With Frank away until the early morning you usually slung on one of his t-shirts and sometimes a pair of his sweatpants so you could snuggle down to sleep with his scent around you.

You reached down with one hand, slipping your few free fingers under the waistband of the soft fabric to slide them between your slippery folds as you let your knees fall open with a soft sigh. You squirm around as you teased yourself a little, Frank's shirt riding up and exposing your stomach and the undersides of your breasts. You try tweaking and pulling at your nipple while you rubbed your finger over your clit, but no matter which way you try to move, you couldn’t get your arm in the right position.

You reach the other hand down and gather up some of the slick wetness at your entrance before pushing your first two fingers inside. It feels good and you start to moan as you slide them in a little further and speed up the ones that are circling your clit. Or try to. With the knuckles of your fingers almost all covered by the cast you’re not nearly as dexterous, you can't flex your wrist or move them and play with yourself the way you usually do, or the way Frank does…

Shit. Nevermind, you could still fuck yourself, couldn’t you?

All your sex toys are battery powered and all the fucking batteries are dead and you keep forgetting to buy any more, because ‘Frank’s always gonna be there to make sure I’m satisfied, I’m never gonna need another toy again’. The drunken boast you made to Karen a few nights ago not sounding quite so true now…

You shift about trying to reach further with both hands, desperately trying to curl the fingers that are inside and stimulate that spongey spot that nearly always makes you soak Frank’s hand, try to make the tight, fast circles around your swollen clit that have your toes curling. But it’s no use, you can’t reach the angle, you can’t get the speed, you can’t push yourself over that edge that you so desperately wanna fall over.

You have an idea, grabbing Frank’s pillow from next to you, pushing it down between your thighs and squeezing them tightly together as you try to get yourself off by humping it. Again, you creep a bit closer but it's not enough, you can’t finish, you can’t make yourself come.

Thinking about his thick fingers and his talented tongue isn’t helping. Thinking about his perfect, cock ramming into you and splitting you open ISN’T HELPING.

“FUCK!” you almost scream, working your hips, trying to get leverage, probably looking like a dog in heat. You don’t care, you are a bitch in heat, you need to be fucked. Where the fuck was Frank, shouldn't he be back by now?

“God…DAMMIT!!!” you yell as you fling the pillow across the room and go back to trying with your fingers again. Tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, you just want to have a nice orgasm and go back to sleep and then maybe Frankie will slip into bed beside you and everything will be okay.

You could call him. He had always said ‘only if it’s an emergency.’ Well, this is a fucking emergency Frankie. You reach for your phone, awkwardly holding it in one stiff hand and jabbing the screen with the other. It rings out.

Wait…

You hear a vibrating buzz coming from the next room, He’s left his fucking phone at home.

Vibrating…buzz?

Maybe you could put it in a sock or something and-

No.

BLEEP-BLOOP.

Yes. Its a fucking emergency after all. You get up and retrieve the phone, quickly setting an alarm to go off in the next minute before slipping it inside a clean sock and clambering back into bed, holding it in your hand, pressing it into your clit.. You’re a genius, you think to yourself as the alarm silently goes off and our clit gets buzzed delightfully by the regular rhythmic vibrations. It’s not long until you’re nearing that precipice again, pleasure building and building. You wish you could change the settings to make it faster, make it extra vibratey but it’ll do, it’s fine, it’s good, oh it’s so good, fuck, you’re almost… almost-

You throw the phone and sock across the room to join the pillow in the realm of failed improvised sextoys, groaning as you squeeze your thighs together to try to relieve the persistent ache there.

It stops. You're panting, quickly pulling the phone out of the sock and pressing on the side button, Nothing. You try again… nothing. The battery has only gone and fucking died. You could cry.

Then, there’s the sound of keys in the door lock.

Holy hell your sinful prayers have been answered! He’s home!

You sit up on the bed on your knees, Frank’s ruined sweatpants long discarded on the floor, his shirt too long and draping over your spread thighs as you wait in anticipation for him to come in and take you hard.

He almost stumbles over the pillow and clothes littering the floor. “Aww jesus christ babygirl,” he whispers under his breath, “why is all this shit-” He looks up, realising you’re awake and sitting there staring at him like he’s cake.

He’s quiet, probably not wanting to wake you up thinking you’re fast asleep, not dripping wet and desperately rabid. You listen to him piss, wash his hands, face, and brush his teeth before he makes his way into the bedroom.

“Hey, what’re you still doin’ up?” he asks, leaning across to switch on the bedside lamp.

It’s then he clocks the absolutely wild look in your eyes as you clasp around his arm as best you can.

“Couldn’t sleep. Too horny.” Your staccato response has him raising his brows as you’re still tugging at his arm and trying to get him into bed with you. “I need to come!”

Crinkles appear in his forehead as he tilts his head in confusion. “Why didn’t ya have a lil playtime sweetheart? You know I’m usually not back home till early. ‘Sides you’re usually out cold snorin’ next to me after a couple of orgasms.' he chuckles as your mouth turns downward in a frown.

“Oh yeah, wow, didn’t think of that!" You snark. "I can’t get myself off Frankie,” You hold up your forearms. “i've tried everything! Stupid casts won’t let me and your stupid phone that you left here ran out of battery or it woulda made a half decent vibrator!” you pout.

“Say what now?" Frank starts to laugh. "Oh damn. That’s some shitty karma right there ain’t it honey? Hah!”

You make a growling sound that sounds ridiculous even to your own ears as your pouty face becomes even more extreme. “It’s not funny! I’m actually dying, I need to come and you've gotta help me!”

Frank gently shakes free of your grasp. “Don’t think so sweetie, this is what’s called ‘payback’. A lil lesson in why not to get stinkin’ drunk on wormrot at that fucking dump of a bar.”

“Just ‘cos you don’t know how to have any fun! Big, grouchy, fucking ass! You know you want a piece of this.” you drawl as you turn around baring and shaking your naked ass and glistening pussy at him. “Huh? C’mon Frankie,” you whine, “Fuck me.”

"Now that… that's just rude, baby." Frank shakes his head distractedly as he shrugs off his canvas jacket and sits down on the bed, his back leaning against the wall. "Not gonna ask how it went tonight, if I'm alright? Coulda been injured or somethin'."

You turn your head and look him over. "Are you injured?"

"No." He grabs the scruff of the t-shirt you're wearing and pulls you back against him. “Jesus christ.” he grumbles as you almost fall into his lap. “S’that my shirt?”

"Is that so?" Frank barks out a laugh as he finally cups, kneads and squeezes one of your breasts in his hand making you moan. He grips one of your wrapped up wrists with his other hand. "Sweetheart, this is gonna be an extended lesson, so pay attention."

You nod, sighing as his big hands start to run up your sides, rucking up the fabric and just barely brushing over the sides of your breasts. “Mmn, I was wearing your gray pants too, but I kinda messed them up. In a way, it’s your fault I'm horny so you should really be helping me out.”

You tip your head back so you can see his face, your eyes wide and dark in the low light of the lamp. "Don't need a lesson Frankie, just need your dick, your mouth, your fingers, god- just anything!"

"Nah. You gotta ask nice baby, or you ain't gettin' shit." Frank growls and it sends a shiver through you as he stares you down. You love it when he takes control and gets a little mean and you encourage it. But, you still just want him to take care of you so you change your tactics.

"Okay I won't get stupidly drunk, fall over and break both wrists ever again if you do this for me now!" You grind your ass against the crotch of his jeans and he hmms and places a soft kiss on the side of your neck that only makes your blood run hotter.

"You're a little minx." He counters, unmoving.

"You can do better than that princess."

Your mouth drops open with a degree of mock offense. "I'm in a great deal of distress, you can't leave me like this, it's cruel!"

You huff and he smiles, still waiting patiently for you to break. Fine.

"Pleeeeease Frank," you begin to beg, wriggling in his arms. He lifts his gaze up to the ceiling as if in deep consideration. You're so extremely frustrated, wound so tight, you can't deal with his teasing mood right now.

"Frankiiiie, please, need you…" you keep begging, turning in his arms, pawing at him all pathetic and awkward with your cast wrists, your eyes wide and shining. "Only you can make me feel soooo good, just please, please..?" You pepper soft kisses all over his face and lips until he fixes you with those deep brown eyes. "I'll make it so good for you too," you purr, scratching your nails through the short fuzzy hair at the back of his neck that never fails to make him give in.

"Goddamn… shit. Has Red been givin' you negotiating tips on the sly? Alright sweetheart c'mon," he eases you up off his lap, laying you down on your back and you watch as he reaches behind grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it off over his head in one movement. When he's kicking off his boots and starts unbuckling his belt you feel the butterflies awaken in your belly, coyly drawing your knees up towards your chest, suddenly so submissive as he strips fully naked and prowls to you. He wrenches your legs open, wasting no time in burying his face between your thighs, tongue dragging right up the very center of your cunt as his strong hands grip your flesh. Your body snaps up off the mattress as he sucks hard at your needy clit, you're trying not to smack your hands off the bed which would potentially cause you even more damage so you settle for clawing at the sheets instead as Frank groans along with you, the vibrations of it pushing deep into your throbbing core as he takes you so quickly all the way up to that sweet edge you've been chasing all night.

His eyes flutter closed at the sensation. Fuck yes, you've got him.

Your eyes shut tight, the back of your head digging into the pillow and your back arching up off the bed as he's utterly relentless in his mission to make you come apart on his tongue. It's not long till he succeeds, you've been ready for it for what feels like hours, giving yourself over as the pure pleasure of an orgasm finally hits you like a truck. You moan loud, likely waking the neighbours as the thick waves of long-awaited bliss judder through your body, whimpering incessantly as he doesn't stop there, kissing your clit as he eases two thick fingers inside your pussy. He curls them, rubbing the sweet spot you were unable to reach, fucking them in and out of you and relishing in your clipped gasping cries as you feel yourself coming all over again in a matter of minutes. It's quick and powerful and Frank palms his crotch as your pussy walls contract around his fingers.

"Fuck yes, god, please just- ahhh!" The sensation of him sliding in and slowly stretching you open, no matter how ready you think you are, always makes your eyes roll back in your skull. And when he's fully sheathed inside as close as you both can be, his forehead resting softly against yours, nothing can ever compare.

You feel him move over you before you open your eyes again, his hips shifting between your legs as they fall open, the head of his cock bumping against your inner thigh as he lifts one of your legs higher to give him access.

"Hey princess," the thick, dark honey of his tone seeps right down into your bones and raises your skin in goosebumps. "You still good, baby? You still want me, huh?" He checks in, holding his cock in his hand and wetting the fat head of it in your copious arousal.

He fills your senses, his solid strength around you, his familiar scent tinged with that of the streets he's been patrolling, mixed with a bit of stale sweat, and the tang of fresh blood from the tiniest split in his lower lip. You stick out your tongue to lick over it, smirking a little as he hisses at the brief sting. Then he presses back, his lips against your lips, his tongue slow, sure and sinful as he kisses you properly and you can't help but melt into it.

"Yeah, there you go," Frank coos as he snaps his hips fast and hard making you whimper. "You gonna give me one more, make it good f'me?"

When he eventually pulls back the look in his eyes is soft, but then he starts to move and it's not gentle. You asked him to fuck you and fuck you is exactly what he's gonna do.

You can only breathe his name as he quickly coaxes you to yet another soaring high. You can't hold onto him the way you're yearning to with your stupid casts in the way, but you try your best, your fingers clawing up his broad back while he ruts into you. He feels so fucking good, always so good, and whether he's tender or brutal with your body his immense love for you is always so clear. He'd do anything for you, even if you are a fucking idiot sometimes.

"Fuuuck, attagirl baby, that's it, y'gonna come f'me?" He has his left arm braced by your shoulder, the other hand with fingers splayed across your throat just where it drives you insane. You didn't think you could after the intensity of the first two orgasms but when you whimper and nod he slides his hand down between your hot bodies to focus his attention on your swollen clit. He knows just the speed and pressure you need along with the way he's fucking his cock in and out of you with long, deep strokes. He swears, low and sexy as you clench and come around him with a high breathy moan, his rhythm rapidly faltering as you bring him to his end too and he unloads inside of you with a gorgeous moan.

"Mmhn… Frankie!" You warn him that you're close as he pushes your thighs back towards your chest, almost folding you in half as he pounds you into the bed.

You stay in each other's arms for a time, until you feel too gross and sticky. Frank helps you have a quick shower without getting your casts wet, bundling you up in a fluffy towel while you sleepily enquire about his evening's exploits. You listen as best you can about the low level gang of assholes that had their asses handed to them by him and Red that night, tracing your fingers gently over his brow where you discover another little cut and bruise you'd hadn't noticed before now.

"Y'told me you weren't injured," you gently scold, your eyes heavy.

"It ain't nothin' big, not like this." He says, tapping your wrist before gently kissing the little scowl off your face with a sly chuckle.

"Yeah okay, thank you, I've learned my lesson, no need to rub it in mister…" you try to stifle your yawn and Frank reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp and cuddles you close to his chest.

"You feelin' better now sweetheart?"

He smiles to himself and kisses the top of your head as your soft snores come as a reply. "G'night princess."

[scribespirare]

If you're still open to flowerfang requests can you give us some more a/b/o with courting? Thanks so much. 🫶

baby i am ALWAYS open for flowerfang requests gimme gimme

So there's this guy.

Well, a villain actually, and he's slippery as hell and keeps wriggling his way out of Miles' grasp (seriously, there's an entire eel theme going on and quite frankly he doesn't really wanna talk about it) every time they meet. And since Miles is dealing with finals right now, he really can't spend that much time trying to chase this dude down. It's just not at the top of his priority list, ya know? Especially since he can usually stop the attempted crimes and send eel guy back to whatever rock he crawled out of. Or...swam. Whatever.

The point is, Miles gets the shock of his damn life when eel guy lands at his feet, trussed up like a present but without the bow one fine weekend afternoon.

Miles, in costume and having previously been enjoying the scenic view of the city from atop one of his many haunts, stares down at eel guy in pure shock.

"You're welcome," Miguel says from somewhere to his right, and Miles whips towards the sound.

"Huh?"

But the Alpha is stepping into a yellow portal, back turned, and Miles can only gape after him. "What the fuck?" he mutters, mostly to himself.

The man on the ground responds anyways. "Man, I have no goddamn clue. He came outta nowhere, said something about Omegas, and then clocked me."

Omegas!? If this is some dumb ass Alpha power flex then Miles is going to skin that man alive. Even if Miguel has at least a foot of height, a decade's worth of experience, and probably a hundred pounds on him. And also there's the fact that he's extremely hot. Like. Wildly fucking hot.

Whatever.

Fucking Alphas. Thinking they're hot shit just because they have chiseled jaws and biceps bigger than his head and amazing scents...

Miles spends the entire time he's taking eel guy to the police station grumbling about them.

Eel guy wisely stays quiet.

oOo

School lets out and the summer is sweltering where it gets trapped in all the concrete and gleaming metal of New York. Miles is given (mostly) free reign to do as he pleases and he does. There's nothing quite like swinging around the city to cool off.

There's just one problem.

Fucking. Miguel.

He keeps swooping in and taking down Miles' bad guys for one, even the tiny pipsqueak ones. And to make matters worse he's leaving shit in Miles' bedroom too. Money, some new Jordans, a spiderman suit that Miles will never admit looks way cooler than his current one and that he stuffed deep into his closet never to be seen again because fuck that guy.

Seriously, what the fuck is Miguel's problem? He hadn't thought Miles' being an Omega was that big a deal when he'd sicced hundreds of spider-people on him. Hadn't held back when he'd slammed Miles into the side of that train, all barred teeth and rage.

But now, all of sudden, Miles apparently can't wipe his own ass without an Alpha's help.

It's just his luck (which is to say, good) that when he decides he's done with Miguel's shit and is going to rip him a new one, Miguel drops a villain at Miles' feet and actually deigns to stop for a moment and chat.

Somehow the man laying between them is eel guy again. They both ignore him.

"What the actual fuck do you think-" Miles starts, at the exact same second Miguel says, "I wasn't sure if we should talk to your parents-".

Both of them stop, clearly confused by the other. Miles gets over his surprise first, shaking his head. "My parents? What the hell do you want with my parents?"

Miguel blinks down at him, face unreadable. "Well, the next stage of courtship usually involves speaking with the Omegas's-"

"Courtship!?" Miles' voice comes out so high and squeaky he feels like he's hit puberty all over again.

Another blink. This time Miguel's features tighten a little, and if Miles didn't know better he'd think the Alpha looked nervous.

Good thing he knows better.

"I...yes? I've been courting you since the start of summer," Miguel says. "I thought..." he trails off, brow knitting in manly angst that very much is not attractive on him, not at all.

Miles for his part just flaps his jaw in disbelief. Everything clicks together for him then: all the bad guys (fucking gift wrapped!), the shit Miguel kept leaving in his bedroom, the way he'd linger sometimes as if to catch Miles' reaction but ultimately still fucked off back to whatever universe he popped out of. Traditionally Alphas aren't meant to interact much with an Omega until they've declared their intention to the parents or guardian of said Omega. This is preceded by gift giving to see if the Omega is even amenable to being courted at all.

Here's the problem. A: that shit was common like a hundred fucking years ago. Nobody courts like that today unless they're richer than god and have been for generations. Old money are just weird like that.

B. Miles never gave any indication of being amenable.

...did he?

"Fuck you're old," is the first thing that pops out of Miles' mouth, because he'd rather talk shit than think about how he feels about Miguel trying to court him.

Miguel immediately tenses all over and takes a step back. "I'm sorry, I thought the age gap-"

"What?" Miles cuts him off, because he recognizes the look of a man about to run. "No, I meant you're old as hell for trying to court me traditionally."

The age gap is most definitely not a problem the Omega in Miles says. He ignores it.

"Oh," says Miguel, but he doesn't relax.

"Nobody does that shit anymore," Miles continues, "so I didn't recognize what was happening. On top of that, you didn't fucking say anything so how the hell was I supposed to know!?"

"I wrote you letters," Miguel argues back. Then, a little softer like now he's unsure of himself, "Written correspondence is an important part of a courtship."

"Did you leave them in my room, like the other stuff?"

"Yes?"

"Well there's your problem. You've seen my room, do the math. Bits of paper aren't gonna stand out."

Miguel runs a hand through his hair and sighs, shoulders slumping. "So you're telling me that I've been trying to make romantic overtures for over a month now, and not a single clear message has gotten through?"

Miles' heart does something weird and uncomfortable in his chest at the words romantic overtures. But he just nods. "Looks like."

Looking skyward as if for patience, Miguel mutters something under his breath and then huffs, puts his hands on his hips, and makes direct eye contact.

"Dios mio, fine. Clearly my preferred way of doing this isn't working. So let's try this instead. Miles, can I take you on a date?" The words are said so matter of factly and with such little emotion that they take a moment to process. When they do Miles immediately feels his face heat.

"Uh," he says intelligently.

Yes says both his dick and his inner Omega.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," are the words that actually come out of his mouth. Miguel looks pained though and Miles winces. "I mean...I'd love to? I think. I dunno, I'm kind of in shock right now. I have no clue what's happening."

That finally has Miguel relaxing and a ghost of smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Of course that look is just as stupidly hot on him as all the others. God, who did Miguel have to kill to get cheekbones like that?

Any and all thoughts of Alpha attractiveness scatter from Miles' brain when Miguel steps closer, right up into Miles' personal space. He smells...well, fucking amazing. Wild and sharp, like steel and ozone before a lightning strike. And he's leaning closer, tilting Miles' chin up with one finger.

"What's happening," Miguel says lowly into the space between them, "is that I'm interested in you, Miles. And I'd like the chance to show you exactly how interested."

Miles swallows hard and his knees nearly buckle under him. "Y-yeah, okay," he says, trying to ignore the heat of Miguel's body, how good it feels to be pinned in by his bulk and strength. He's failing.

"Good," Miguel replies, ruining all chances Miles had of trying to keep his cool because the Alpha leans down and kisses him.

It's not Miles' first kiss, but it is his first with someone who actually knows what they're doing. Miguel's mouth is hot and confident, nearly bruising in its intensity as he guides Miles' into parting his lips so that Miguel can sweep his tongue inside. Miles makes a surprised, pleased sound that immediately embarrasses him because it's so incredibly Omegean.

Miguel laughs against him, more felt than heard, and finally pulls away. "I've been wanting to do that for a while, cariño. Sabes tan dulce como te ves."

Miles yanks him back down into another kiss before he can say anything stupid.

"Uh, guys?" says eel guy from somewhere on the ground. "Hello?"

oOo

They don't end up talking to Miles' parents by mutual agreement. Miles isn't even sure why Miguel would want to considering Miles is still fifteen, but over the course of the conversation he starts to realize...

Miguel is a hopeless romantic. That's why he'd gone for traditional courting. Soft, gooey hearted, marshmallow fluff romantic.

Miles laughs until his sides hurt. He only stops when Miguel pins him down and kisses him until Miles can barely breathe.

It's really fucking great.

...Miles still forces Miguel to promise not to fight anymore of his bad guys though.

[froznwater]

im so sorry this is incredibly random but if i dont write alenoah i WILL die but i cant think of anything to write. do u have any simple ideas. ignore if not

HI!!! tysm for your ask <3 i hope you can find something to write amongst all the ideas. These are a bunch of ideas have written down in my notes/google drive/tumblr posts and have not got gotten around to. I still might at some point in time but feel free to use them. I will still do my own take if I get the time/motivation. There's simply so many, why not share and inspire some fics :)

----

General ideas:

Noah knows/learns spanish. Bonus points if Alejandro isn't aware until the perfect moment.

Alejandro thinks he can get away with flirting with Noah in spanish. Noah starts shit talking in spanish. Noah learns so he can hear all the little comments Alejandro keeps making under his breath. etc. so many possibilities.

Now that the show is over and Noah's off to college, he realizes he’s missing something in his life. Maybe it’s his friends, maybe it’s a lack of ever-looming danger, OR maybe it’s Alejandro. Who fucking knows. He’s too busy trying not to be in love with Alejandro to figure it out. 

Their group project is failing, horribly. There’s one thing Noah knows for certain: Alejandro's to blame. At what point does slippery eel turn into a term of endearment?

They have never ever fallen asleep next to each other. Let alone in each other's arms. Never.

Time loop where Alejandro is stuck on the episode where Noah gets voted out and sticks himself to falling in love because he can’t let go of his pride long enough to simply let Noah stay in the game and move on.

Noah loses his contacts and starts wearing his glasses more often. Alejandro notices. Everyone notices Alejandro notices.

Alejandro and Noah team up to get their friends together (insert whatever ship you like) and end up together in the process/the other two were trying to do the same thing for them.

A commentary timeline on how Alejandro's charisma turn into exploitation, how Noah's patience turned into indifference, and how they parallel each other. (I've written a few hundred words for this one lol.)

Each thinks the other doesn't like them. Cut to third party POV that watches and witnesses them completely a mess for each other.

Noah, once voted out in I See London, learns about Alejandro's family. Who have been very vocal since the show started airing.

Exploration of how Alejandro tries really really hard. Yes, He's at the top of the class, but so is Noah. Noah who sleeps through classes and doesn't turn in homework and shows up late or simply not at all and is still right up there with him.

“I would kill to be like you. To just absorb all the information fed to me. If I were you I might actually- “(beat my brother) “Might actually what?” “I told you. I don’t want to talk about it, Noah.” - "Do you know how long I studied for that test? Hours. And you- You got a 96 with no effort at all." It was a 98. But this seems like a bad time to correct him.

Dialogue one-liners prompts i've written down:

"If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."

“Why do I feel like I cant say no to you?”

"I know you don't actually care about me, but thank you for trying to pretend that you do." (Said by Noah is joking. Said by Alejandro is bitter.)

"You can't win against someone who has nothing to lose."(Alejandro OR Noah angst.)

Soulmate aus:

My big two: Telepathy/Mentally linked.(imagine this one as a wt rewrite omg) And Whatever you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate. Matching tattoos.

First words on each other. (I've done this one already here. but feel free to do it as well!!)

Communicating through dreams. (If you know cardcaptor sakura; like that.)

General AUs:

Until dawn AU.

Gakuen Alice AU.

My Babysitters A Vampire AU. Zombie Apoc AU.

Harry Potter AU. Reality Dating Show AU.

Infinity Train AU!!!!!!

Veronica Mars AU!!!! (i wanna do this one ALOT noah is sooo veronica LMAO) OBLIGATORY IDEAS:

seven minutes in heaven.

wrong number.

trapped in a closet.

movie night. noah is sitting under alejandro and lol they are physically, platonically touching for awhile. (leads to finally getting together).

one gets injured, the other fixes them up in the nurses office :P.

short "prompt-ishs" i've started writing:

“What the hell is your problem, Alejandro?” And this time, the tone was so disgusted, so bitter, that something snapped, deep in Alejandro’s chest.

Fuck it.

“What’s my problem?” He asked, incredulous. “What’s my problem? You’ve got to be kidding me, Courtney. I almost died. I almost died, paralyzed and alone, and the only friend I thought I had didn’t give a single shit! The only person who cared was Noah, of all people. I quite literally come back to life and the only thing you can do is whine about your girlfriend problems.”

Courtney takes a step back.

“I was stuck in a robot for months, my legs barely work, my family moved on- actually, I don’t know if they ever actually even noticed,” He laughs, broken, “- and you have the audacity to ask me what my problem is?!”

Alejandro is over playing nice. He’s had enough.

-

this one is a rivals team up to get out courtney blurb

little idea about Alejandro getting into zodiacs.

moments where alejandro questions why Noah is so attractive

-

SEND MORE ASKS IF ANYONE HAS ANY QUESTIONS ON ANY OF THESE IDEAS!!! / IF THEY HAVE ANY IDEAS OR CONCEPTS TO ADD OR EXPAND ON :)))

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies! Mostly about weird dicks and ehh having kids I guess…

characharing asked:

''Is Ruggie's grandma packing?'' OF COURSE SHE IS, ANON, GILF RIGHTS

Yesss!! POWERFUL GRANDMAS OF TWST!!

Anonymous asked:

Somtimes i feel like when I leave this blog for a few days, idia gains like, 270 new kinks

Exactly, now imagine how Idia feels. Every new day should feel like a holiday, but he sure is struggling lol

Anonymous asked:

Yesss, Riddle gets to savor all the exotic dicks whether he likes it or not as the Queen intended. Wonder which one he'll like the most? I feel like Deuce might also join in but probably by accident

I am a romantic at heart, so I would assume that Riddle’s favourite one would be the long, supple and slippery eel one. It just sounds right. 😌 It’s also probably the most unpredictable because it moves, and Riddle hates unpredictability, so we get a perfect match.

Deuce would definitely join in by accident, and he would probably feel kind of guilty for enjoying the exotic dick so much… maybe because of how much adrenalin and panic he felt when he experienced knotting for the first time, but his body reacts very strongly to Jack now. And experiencing one of the tweels would feel so weird that it would actually fry his brain for a couple of hours…

Che’nya should visit NRC more often. For no reason in particular, he just should.

Anonymous asked:

On the topic of parents, I was asking myself who would be the most likely to raise a kid together in canon in the future, and I think that if Kalim has kids he will definitely rope in Jamil, no matter the kind of relationship they have. His life would be even more at risk as the head of the Asim, so I can imagine he would try to get someone he can trust to become the legal guardian of his child/children in case something happens to him, and we all know that there is no one he trusts as much as Jamil. "And when I'll die you'll take care of them" "When!?". I don't know, it's just kind of funny to think about how even without Kalim, Jamil would still be stuck with the kalimlings (who probably don't even get along with da-, I mean, uncle Jamil)

Oh there is absolutely no chance for Jamil to get away from nurturing another Kalim, even if the first Kalim hires 10 nannies for the kid. For the sake of protection too.

“When I’ll die” lol so ready to kick the bucket and leave Jamil with kalimlings…what a word 😭 Jamil’s entire life is Kalim. Even if Kalim is gone, Kalim is still there. Maybe Kalim will do what his father did and leave 30+ kalimlings behind just so uncle Jamil doesn’t get lonely.

Anonymous asked:

out of the twst cast, who do you think would selfishly ~baby trap~ their partner? like tbh i don’t see floyd as the type, if anything a baby would make him fuck off lol

Yeah, a baby would absolutely make Floyd fuck off lol Which is ironic, because while I don’t see Riddle as someone who would necessarily do it, he gets pretty unexpectedly unhinged sometimes… I don’t see it, but I don’t not see it if that makes sense. It wouldn’t be a premeditated decision; it’s more like a crime of passion. If he manages to make a baby with magic somehow… the chances are super low, but considering how unstable Floyd can make him, never zero lol

To answer your question properly, I can’t think of many options to be honest, but two characters who came to mind first would be Malleus and Azul. My reasoning for Malleus: lay an egg => demand attention.

And Azul would do anything to tie a person to himself if he needs to; a baby would bring a lot of unnecessary expenses, but if nothing else works, putting a bunch of eggs inside his lover’s body is always an option. Wow, both of them are egg related…

We are talking about the boys here, but I feel like even if Azul was a lady, he wouldn’t want to get pregnant herself. The world would hear the most menacing “I’ve already paid the surrogate, Idia-san” ever.

Ortho could do it in a yandere scenario, I think. Sebek and Kalim are also suuuuper not likely, but somehow more likely than the rest of the boys.

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (14)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 1.2k Summary: Florence Fucking Nightingale

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

She’s passed out when he comes back with the gear he’s salvaged. Not a one of them assholes was carrying more than basic first aid which makes them ignorant as well as useless in his opinion. He’d drug the bodies a fair distance away, rolling them down a hill into a nearby ravine. Hopefully it would be enough to keep the scavengers away.

There was already too much blood in the air.

Dropping the things he’s found to the floor he stirs up the fire, hoping the smell of it will cover her injury. Then he digs in her pack, searching for what she bought from the trader. There’s a couple more packs of Rad-Away, and the bottle of Rad-X.

“You didn’t buy any damn stimpacks?” he growls, glaring at her from the corner of his eyes. “What kind of idiot-”

He stops himself before he can go further. Maybe he should have paid better attention at the trading post - maybe they hadn’t even had any stims. He’d been too caught up watching for trouble he’d barely paid attention to them.

“Looks like we’re doing this the old fashioned way.”

He pours antiseptic over a pair of needle nose pliers and unstoppers the bottle of rotgut he finds with his teeth. Crouching next to her he pulls his gloves off and gently tilts her face up, pressing the bottle to her mouth.

“This is going to taste like the south end of a northbound mule, but you’ll thank me later.”

She splutters but he manages to get a good amount down her throat before she refuses to take any more. He lets her lay back down then cuts at the dress near her waist, exposing the wound. It’s jagged, likely not a recycled bullet, and has all the makings of an infection.

“I am sorry about this,” he tells her before settling one hand on her stomach to hold her still. The hand holding the pliers wavers only a moment before he digs in.

“Son of a-”

“Hush,” he chides softly, barely glancing up at her as he applies more pressure to hold her still. “I gotta get this outta you before it festers.” She lets out a whimper and what’s left of his heart turns over. “Talk to me, darling, keep your mind off the pain.”

“About what?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Anything you want.” Whatever she was shot with isn’t coming up easy and he resigns himself to having to dig. “Why’d those boys call you Daisy Mae?”

“Daisy Mae Jackson, Hollywood’s Honeypot.”

He freezes, tilting his head up at her. Now that she says it… “You look a bit like her.”

“I look a lot like her.”

Daisy Mae Jackson was before his time, she’d been an elderly matriarch off the stage when he was still coming up, and her movies weren’t the kind he was much into. But he remembered the films, the gossip that had surrounded her six marriages, the ignominious end in Palm Springs.

“She your grandma?”

“Something like that.”

“What do you mean ‘something like that’?” He asks it more sharply than he intends but he finally found the damn projectile and it’s slippery as a fucking eel.

“I’m her clone.”

The thing slips through the pliers once again and he curses under his breath, wiping at the wound with a cloth and glaring, barely listening to her. “Never knew she had any kids.”

She laughs and he looks up at her face, frowning. “What’s so funny?”

“Not related, same person. Kinda.”

The words finally sink in and he gawks at her. He’d thought she’d looked kind of familiar when he first saw her. But now - she’s a dead ringer for Daisy Mae Jackson in her prime.

“Vault?” Is all he can think to ask.

“Kinda, more of a… facility.”

“Lot of you down there?”

“Off and on.”

He finally catches the edge of the thing and slowly retracts it, breathing a sigh of relief when it comes loose entirely. It’s a bit of scrap metal, ringed red with rust and blood.

“You’re liable to have some trouble from this.”

“I’m always in trouble,” she jokes weakly, giving him a wane smile.

He drops the pliers to the side and reaches for the antiseptic. “Don’t reckon I’ve met a clone before.”

“Well I’ve got a few sisters if you want to go look.”

A thought occurs and he glances back at her, “Thirteen perhaps?”

She nods, holding her hand up and putting her thumb and forefinger almost next to each other. “Missed unlucky thirteen by this much.”

“What happened to the others?”

“Can we not?” She asks suddenly, reaching for the rotgut. Before he can say anything she takes a massive swig, spluttering at the taste before taking another. “I’m gone from there, I’m not going back.”

He can’t help but wonder how badly they might want her back. Say, 5,000 caps worth?

There’s no more talking while he bandages her up, taping the edges down and frowning at his work. It doesn’t look like it’s going to hold for long - he’ll need to keep a close eye on it. She continues to drink like a fish while he cooks up a bit of bounty hunter. She’d never said anything off about the bits of man-jerky he’d been feeding her - and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Here,” he passes a piece to her, his back propped against the side of the cot, “you need to eat something.”

She chews slowly, cracking an eye open to look at him. “I wanna kiss you, you know.”

“Oh?” He tries not to sound too interested. She’s three sheets to the wind and as liable to pass out as give him state secrets.

“Yeah,” she drawls the word, making it take several seconds.

“Why don’t you?” he asks, not looking away from the fire.

“Can’t. Not ever.”

Suddenly her hand is grasping his shoulder in a viselike grip and he nearly falls over in shock when she sits bolt upright. “Darlin’ I-”

“Promise me. Promise me you won’t ever try.”

“I…” Her eyes are wide with fear and he covers her hand with his. “I swear it.”

She nods in return, falling back to the cot. He frowns at her and searches for his pack, tucking it under her head.

“Anything else you want me to-?”

A delicate snore interrupts him and he snorts. He shifts so he can check her bandage, worried she might have aggravated the wound with her theatrics. He ain’t no doctor, it might have been better to leave it exposed, but with things the way they were it just felt like keeping the dirt out of it was the best course. Anyway, it looks good.

Real good.

He frowns and touches the edge, near the open wound. It had been a bit bigger in his memory, big around as a brass button. Now it was no larger than his thumbnail.

A clone of a Hollywood star who healed almost as fast as he did?

“Who the fuck are you?”

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[juanarc-thethird]

Jaune meets... his "Nemesis!" (Roman & Neo)

On the outskirts of Vale, a crime is committed in a Dust store.

Shop Owner: Someone stop that man!!!

The store owner yells as two individuals run with their loot.

Roman: Uwahaha! Good luck with that old man! No one has ever caught Roman Torchwick and his cunning henchmen Neo!!! Uwahahaha!!

The police near the scene try to catch them but they are slippery like an eel.

Meanwhile

Jaune and Nora are walking through the streets in the same city.

Nora: *Holding a large bag full of marbles*

Jaune: *Disappointed* How could you take all those marbles from those kids?

Nora: Hey! They knew the rules of the game and they lost.

Jaune: *sighs* What am I going to do with you?

Nora: You're just jealous I have marbles and you don't.

At that moment Nora begins to shake her bag so roughly that it broke and they all fell to the floor.

Nora: Oops

At that moment, in one of the alleys close to them, Roman and Neo appear without paying attention to the marbles that are in the way.

Roman: I hope you remember this day as the day they almost caught the legendary Roman torchwiiiiii...!!!!!

Roman and Neo had slipped on the marbles, making them fall on their heads. Everything they had stolen was scattered everywhere.

Roman: *In pain* Ohhh... What happened?

Neo: *On the floor unconscious*

Before he can react, the police caught up with them and jumped on top of him so he wouldn't escape.

Police: Roman Torchwick you are under arrest for robbery, trespassing, and endangerment to others!

Roman: What?!!!

Police: You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.

Roman: That?!! But I'm Roman Torchwick! Nobody could catch me!! *He looks around* Who was responsible for this?!! I'm going to finish them!!! *He then looks at Nora and Jaune* You two!!!

Jaune: (Oh shit! Come on Jaune, make an excuse, quick!!) Um..

Nora: *Pointing at Jaune* He did it! Jaune Arc! He threw the marbles on the ground so you would fall down!!! Did I say his name is Jaune Arc? Because his name is Jaune Arc!! He set you up, all by himself! Without anyone else's help!

Jaune: *Looking at Nora petrified*

Roman: I will remember your face Jaune Arc!!! And when I escape I'll kill you!!! You hear me!!! I'll kill you!!!!!

The police put him and his henchman in the car and drove away from the scene.

Nora: *Sighs* That was close.

Jaune: NORA WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

[bolithesenate]

Soap gets loose in the Temple, Dooku and Sifo have to go find him (with the help of Temple guard?) Master Komari's first lesson with her Orange One?? The story behind the adorable domestic blorbos picture????

"Cin!," the door to Cin Drallig's office got thrown open and a face he hadn't seen in a while appeared. "I need you to lend me a Guard uniform! Now!," Sifo-Dyas informed him, storming towards him.

"Is this a vision thing again?" Cin took a step back from the Seer. "Because Yan said I shouldn't encourage those."

Sifo-Dyas actually managed to look indignant at that comment. "It is not a vision thing, I'll have you know. Not that it's any of Doo's business anyways."

Well then.

"So what is this about?," Cin looked at the older Jedi, quipping his brows, "I would like to have an actual reason for letting you dress up as one of my guys, Sifo."

"...Do you have to?"

"The way you ask that makes the answer a definite yes." Crossing his arms, Cin tilted his head. "So, out with it."

Sifo-Dyas looked conflicted with a good minute. Then, very faintly from down the corridor, a crash could be heard. Followed by some sort of claxon starting to blare. The way the Seer immediately turned and paled at that, immediately told Cin there was something going on here.

"Sifo," he asked, "What was that?"

"Uhh," the Seer's gaze was still fixed to the open door.

Patience. Patience was a virtue. "Lemme rephrase the question: Was that the reason why you are asking for a Guard uniform?"

"Uhhhhhh..."

Well, that answered that. "Why was that the reason you need a Guard uniform?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...!"

"Out with it, Dyas, or I'll toss you out." Not that he'd actually be able do that, Sifo-Dyas was a slippery as an eel when he wanted to be, but the threat was as good as a gesture as anything.

Luckily, the Seer cracked. Folding his hands in front of his face, he looked at Cin imploringly. "Please don't get mad," he said - and that was probably the worst way he could have started this negotiation, "But... remember that, uh, exotic animal in Yan's care that we should, technically, have relocated to another planet about a fortnight ago?"

Migraines. Migraines these idiots were causing him. Sorrows and migraines. Cin was going to go grey prematurely. "You mean the Serennian Force dragon??"

Sifo-Dyas made a pathetic little noise.

"That thing is barely fitting through the corridors anymore!!," Cin threw his arms out, "How-?!?"

Another crash, this time closer. Maybe there were some actual shouts now, too.

Sifo-Dyas in the meantime had returned to staring fixedly towards the direction of the clamor. A sudden calm seemed to have come over the man. "Do you think," his voice was all quiet and soft now, "It's already too late to discreetly get her back down to the lower levels without anyone noticing?" Then, he turned, looking at Cin like he was hoping for him to actually argue against that.

Cin wasn't going to.

Actually, Cin wasn't going to do anything anymore. Fuck this. He was gonna quit.

"Out." He said, pointing towards the door. "Out and get that Force-damned creature under control! Now."

"Soap isn't a crea-"

"I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ITS NAME! REMOVE IT FROM THE FUCKING TEMPLE ON THE FUCKING DENSELY POPULATED CITY PLANET!"

[pianocat939]

Pleeeeeease more mud dog content I love all of them

You can do Drabble headcannons blurb I kinda just wanna see them

Buuuuuut I was wondering if you can give headcannons (yandere and normal) with a darling who has sharp teeth and won’t kiss them because they’re scared to hurt them

I know this is random I’m sorry-

I AM ASHAMED. WHAT DIGNITY DO YOU HAVE LEFT AFTER THIS? BARE WITNESS MY EYES HAVE GONE THROUGH- /hj

Tw: drugging, breaking-in, manipulation, unconsented dental changes (?)

Leonard.

Bro actually is a whiny needy bitch and wants his kisses. So if you continuously deny him without telling him why, he'll just try to get a kiss somehow. Somehow. Whether it's crawling into your bedroom when you're asleep or trapping you within his limbs, he will get his kiss.

As soon as you explain it to him, he literally stands there, mind blank before acting completely confused. "How are your teeth a problem...? I'M A FUCKING OGRE- FUCKING SHREK!" Then prepare yourself for his attack of begs, because you must kiss him or he will destroy your home on accident.

Danny.

Danny isn't like Leonard, and won't actively be physically affectionate. So when you don't try to kiss him, it doesn't confuse him all that much. He only notices when he does try the rare occasion to kiss you.

He'll just plainly ask, you answer, and he shrugs it off. After all, he has those big honker rat teeth. The thing that makes him...not normal though is he'll slowly manipulate you about your teeth. Nothing bad (not the manipulation part), just trying to gaslight you into thinking your teeth aren't a problem.

Mickey.

I'm sorry but this mf is a slippery eel. He is probably gonna have terrible fish lips to kiss with. And honestly, you will cut his lips. Just because he's a fish, and it's easy to cut him. So just from there, it's just a cautious situation for both of you.

If he feels daring enough, he might try to saw down your teeth a bit when you're drugged up on anesthesia.

[new-berry]

Going to give one last shot at Spain three. But with INTENT. I have cleared my calendar. (Lads and leafs hitting dim form sort of clearing it for me)

NSFW not even the warning should be over the line. Please take that as a warning.

Frank Lampard / Rio Ferdinand

Non con and period disregard of consent. I’m not sure how else to phrase it? People used to talk right over the top of “no” all the time. Little bit of gaslighting?

This is former lovers and one lover completely ignores what the other person is saying. I feel like this was the blind “what the fuck is consent?” That was pretty common 25 or more-ish years ago when this was set.

More from Rio’s POV than the frank centric Spain one and two. And again: consent issues warning.

….

Something about being on holiday gives Rio vivid dreams. He’s not going to dream about trees, he’s going to dream about a jungle full of parrots and monkeys or whatever. Probably being here in Spain, it’s so fucking hot even the locals look fed up.

He’s dreamt about sex before. Someone sexy who’s not exactly faceless. Like the hot Spanish girl he was dancing with last night, yesterday? In his dream he can’t quite hang on to her face. There’s a hint of beer in his dream that he doesn’t remember on her, she had a slippery glossy mouth and tasted sweet. Strawberries on her mouth and orange juice on her tongue.

Rio’s name had sounded so good in her mouth “Reeee-oh.” A little breathless, he should have taken her home. He’s still turned on but the dream is fading, that weird moment between being asleep and awake. He feels weighed down and anchored in.

He’s nearly awake and tries to flip the stiffing blanket off but there’s a soft noise of protest and he’s awake then, properly, Pressed against and anchored down, his dick is hard even though he never got that far with her. A looming ache in his ass.

When his eyes slide open he looks down to Frank’s mouth around his cock. Fingers slippery as eels wedged inside him. His mouth is dry and he’s trying to blink himself awake. “Ohhh.” It comes out like the second part of his name in her mouth, high and breathless. But it’s Frank’s name that comes out next, and he looks up, big eyes looking bigger than usual, all pupil in the low light, eyelashes fluttering.

It’s too much instantly, from the thought of it in a dream to Frank sucking too hard, fingers beavering away between his legs, sliding two in, slithery wet digits in shallow, pressing down trying to find his prostate.

Frank yanks his mouth off, so fast there’s the burn of teeth and Rio gasps. “Yeah baby.” Frank says back. His voice is wrecked either from the too harsh weed they were all smoking or from sucking Rio’s cock like he’s going to find god if he keeps doing it.

There is no good way to move, Frank’s fingers just slot further into him when he moves his hips, and his brain is catching up with how close to coming his dick is, heart racing as much from being shocked awake as his impending orgasm.

Rio shoves at Frank’s shoulder and when he doesn’t move his forehead. Frank uses the hand that isn’t two knuckles deep in him to put Rio’s hand in his head. “You can pull baby.” He says. Rio shudders as much from the brief respite to Frank sucking too hard on the top of his cock , as from the warm night air cooling the spit left behind, as Frank calling him baby. It’s gross, sleazy what they calls the girls before they take them back to the hotel then shove them in a taxi home. Or at least away.

Frank fumbles he find his prostate and rubs his fingers over it, too hard and sloppoy, Rio’s hand twists in his hair without meeting too and Frank gives a hum of satisfaction and that enough to have Rio almost shouting, biting his lips to hold it in in the quiet still night probably suffocating Frank with his hand pulling his head down and his cock filling Frank’s mouth with come.

Franks just coughs a couple of times and then laughs. Rio stares up, then at the window, wide open, grubby white curtains hanging limply in the lack of a sea breeze. Franks spits on the sheet and then nuzzles across Rio’s thigh. His stubble is rough on the skin inside Rio’s leg and his ass is burning where Frank hasn’t taken his fingers out.

In fact he’s nudging them further in, lying on Rio’s thigh, cheek smooshed and hair a mess from Rio’s hand when he let go after he came.

“The fuck? Frank?” The words are separated by rough mouthfuls of breath. He can’t move, Frank practically lying on his leg, too hot, hard dick on his leg. “Get the fuck off me.”

Franks grins at the protest. Pulls his fingers out to rest his ring finger at Rio’s ass with the other two resting just inside him.

“You wanna be on your stomach?” It’s like fucking Frank to pretend nothing is wrong, that this is like in the past when they would hook up. “No I want you the fuck off me you fucking nutter.”

Frank’s smile slides away and he looks petulant. It was cute the first few times Rio saw it. Now it’s fucking annoying. “I said it was over.” Rio shoves Frank’s forehead again, Frank stuffs a finger in him in retaliation and it’s so sudden that Rio clenches up and pants desperately.

“Fuck Frabk.” He gasps roughly. “What part of no more don’t you get.”

Frank smiles, his sharp little canines peeking out. Frank kisses up his leg, slurps at the sweat lying greasy on Rio’s stomach.

“You say no more but you never stop me.”

“I was sleeping.” Rio’s head pounds he gasps in gratitude when Frank’s fingers slip out of him.

“You were hard,” Frank nuzzles into Rio’s neck goes straight for the bottom of his ear which he knows is a weak point for Rio. “Moaning my name.” It’s bullshit, Rio’s knows it’s bullshit and Frank knows he knows, his head thumps again and Frank goes on “you’re the one who told me ‘“like old times,’ you’re the one with slick in your bag.”

Rio can’t make sense of the memory that Frank brings up. Laughing so loud they are about to be chucked out, football players spending big and attracting girls or not. Rio’s head rings, trying to get the night in order. He’d been swapping kisses with the girl with strawberry flavoured lips. Then she was gone and Frank was pressed to his side. Eyes too bright and voice too loud.

“How was I supposed to know you didn’t want this, kept your arm around me, cuddling me all night. Kept squeezing my leg.”

“I was drunk.” Frank hmmms “sure thing.” He bites on Rio’s collarbone when Rio puts his hands on Frank’s hips to shove him back. “Keep it down.” Frank mumbles around Rio’s nipple “you’ll wake the lads.”

That sends a cold fizzle down Rio’s spine. The house they have rented has four bedrooms but at any point one of them is usually sleeping or passed out in the living room and that’s only a door and half a hall between the couch and the room Rio claimed.

“No more Frank.” Frank switches sides, lo ks his nipple and ruts against Rio, “don’t be selfish.” Frank says “you got off. Don’t be a dick. Leading me on with all your ‘like old times’ and you wanna kick me out when only you got to come.”

Rio looks at the door ajar. “Keep it down.” He hisses . “Can you be quiet?”

Frank grinds into his leg, “yeah I’ll bite when I come no one will hear.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Frank rolls his hips, “come on I’m so wound up from how pretty you sound, how good you feel, it’s only going to last a minute.”

Franks dick is leaving little snail trails of come behind, and experience has thought Rio he’s really not far off coming.

“Just rub one out.” Rio says finally. Heartbeat calming, thigh protesting when Frank’s weight is holding it out and down.

“Let me fuck you.” Frank’s voice is needy and too loud. There aren’t even cicadas making a sound tonight.

“Keep it down.” Rio whispers but Frank stubborly keeps his voice a regular pitch. “Come on. Wanna screw.”

Rio sighs and relaxes against the bed. Frank’s grin is triumphant and he climbs off Rio’s leg to lie between them, the shape of his body opening Rio’s legs further. “Wanna be on your stomach?” He’s at least whispering, voice the kind of low intent that gets girls going.

He’s holding lube in his hand, a type Rio has never seen before and he shakes his head.

“Just don’t take forever.” Rio’s face screws up at the drip of cold lube on him. “This is a one time thing. Last time.” Frank nods and kisses Rio, gentle and reverent, ignoring the foul taste in Rio’s mouth, may not even notice it over the taste of Rio’s come.

“Go easy,” Rio doesn’t add it’s been a while, doesn’t want Frank putting together that the last time was Frank as well.

“So good.” Franks slides in inch by inch, fingers running over Rui’s shoulders and arms, soothing him through getting opened up on his dick “no one else is this good.” Frank rests his forehead down, mumbles into Rio’s neck “I love you. I always have.”

Rio doesn’t clench up at that because he was expecting it. It makes his heart drop as Frank starts a slow smooth rythum, it won’t be over in a minute Rio thinks. Then he just thinks ‘shit fuck no’ as Frank mumbles he loves him again

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Cockwarming Marc Spector

“I have something for you.” Marc whispers. 

He’s tugging at your PJ bottoms. You do your best to focus on the film you’re watching.  You’re cuddled up in bed, at the messy, book laden apartment. And Marc is not settling in for a cuddle. He wants more. His cock is hard in his joggers. “Baby, I am trying to watch the film.” You muss. “I know.” Marc replies. But he peels down your PJ bottoms all the same.

His blunt nails scrape over the lacey fabric of your panties. 

“Lift your hip a little.” He murmurs. You huff, not very pleased that he is distracting you. “C’mon baby.” Marc growls. He presses a kiss in your neck. “Marc.” You whine. “Yes baby.” Marc smirks against your skin. He tugs your panties down the globes of your ass.  You lift your hips up minutely. “Good girl.” Marc murmurs. He slides your panties down further. The tips of his fingers stroke gently over your hip and ass. 

“Your skin is so soft.” He whispers. His breath fans over the shell of your ear. You shudder. You feel your focus on the film waining. Marc knows exactly how to touch you. His hand slips from your hip to your thigh. His index finger teases your folds. You can’t help a little moan. “You want it.” Marc growls. He bites your earlobe. You whine softly. “Yes you do.” He purrs.

He rubs you, slowly and gently. He does it so well. You can’t help the moans from tumbling from your lips. Just went you start getting into it good, Marc’s fingers slip away. 

He shimmies down his joggers and boxers.  His hard cock slaps against your ass. You can’t help a little squeal. “You like that?” Marc growls. You try not to respond. But Marc grabs a handful of your ass. You whimper loudly.  “Come on, tell me you like it.” Marc murmurs. He kisses on your neck and grinds against your ass.

He seeks out your clit and starts rubbing. You press your face in your pillow to stiffle a moan. “Don’t hide.” Marc growls. He continues rubbing you, as well as grinding into your buttcheek.

He carefully tilts your pelvis a little and tests your wetness. “Slippery as an eel.” He murmurs. He lines up his hard cock, inching in slowly. You whimper loudly. “Good, huh?” Marc murmurs. “Y-yeah.” You whimper. 

Once he’s bottomed out, though, Marc gets comfortable. And he does not move a muscle. He fills you up so well. But you expected him to fuck you. “M-marc?” You mutter. “I thought you wanted to focus on the film.” Marc teases. You flush, opening your mouth to protest.  But Marc makes a shushing sound. “I want to follow the movie.” He says.

He stays still inside you.

His mind wanders back to the tellie. And you feel so bereft. How dare Marc just push in and do nothing.

You grind your ass against him, trying to goad him into a reaction. But Marc only grabs you firmly by the hip. “Lay still.” He murmurs. You huff and pout. You want more from him.  “Please.” You pout. “No.” Marc says firmly. He is determined to be a bit hard on you tonight. Serves you right for being a bit hard on Steven last night. You can always count of Marc on bringing things back around like that. 

For a little while, you obey, just cuddling while Marc holds still inside you. 

But you of course can't stand that for long. You can't have him go soft after all. You clench your inner walls down on him. Marc groans softly. "Be still." He warns, nipping your shoulder in warning.  But his hand goes down your belly all the same. He finds your clit. He starts off slow. You moan softly. Marc knows exactly how to touch you.

"Your pussy is twitching on my cock." He growls against your neck. "Then fuck me." You huff. "No, not yet." Marc replies.  He wants you to cum first.  He keeps rubbing you steadily. But he does not give you more pressure. Your orgasm builds gradually but slowly. "You are gushing baby." Marc growls. "Please let me cum." You whine. Marc tuts softly. "Be patient." He murmurs. He know this is hard for you. 

"Please please. Marc, please." You whisper. But he is unbidding. Instead he stops. He stays perfectly still. You whine loudly. "Marc, don't be such a hard ass." You pout, even though he can't see your face. Marc chuckles. "Maybe you should be patient." He murmurs. "I can't." You whimper. "Yes you can." Marc murmurs. He presses a soft kiss behind your ear. "You're so strong and good for me, I know you can." He murmurs. You wriggle against him. You want to cum so badly. You need him to fuck you. 

"What do I have to do to make you fuck me." You whine. "Just wait." Marc replies. You huff loudly. "Are so mean today." You pout. "I know." Marc confirms. He gently strokes your hip and kisses at your neck. "Then at least let me cum." You whine, tightening your inner walls on his cock. Marc groans softly. "Not yet. I want us to cum together." He murmurs. 

He waits for you to calm down.  And then he waits another while, simply cuddled up against you.

Then he begins to ever so slowly rock against you. You moan softly. "Do you like this?" Marc asks, his voice a teasing purr. "Y-yes." You whimper. "Good." He murmurs. He kisses at your neck and still again. 

"If you beg like a good girl, I'll let you cum. And if you cum propperly, I might just fuck you." He growls, biting at the lobe of your ear. You swear under your breath. Why must he tease you like this? "What was that?" Marc growls. “Nothing.” You mumble. “That was not nothing.” Marc tisks. 

“I think I am not going to fuck you. And you don’t get to cum either.” He purrs, nuzzling at your neck. You whine loudly. He is so cruel today! What have you done to deserve that? “Marc please.” You whimper. “No, not today.” He growls wickedly. “Why not.” You pout. “You’re being a bad girl.” He says. “No I am not.” You feebly argue.

You want him to fuck you so bad, But you realise you are digging yourself a deeper hole with everything you say. You can’t stop yourself. You are so needy for him. Marc senses this. It is like blood in the water to him. And he exploits it to the fullest extend.  “Beg.” He growls, biting at your neck. You cry out in pleasure. “Why are you being mean.” You pout. “I am not being mean, I just want you to beg.” Marc replies. 

He gives your clit a light tap. Your inner walls clamp down on his cock. “Please.” You whine. You are so desperate for him. You need to cum. You need him to fuck you. “Please what?” Marc growls. It is so sensual that you are brought even closer to an earth shattering climax. “So close.” You breathe. “No, not yet. You only get to cum when I tell you to. When you cum without permission, I will not fuck you.” He growls.  But he rubs your clit ever so gently. You moan loudly, rocking into his touch. “Fuck, you are getting wetter and tighter at the same time.” Marc snarls. 

He might be biting off more than he can chew. But he is commited to it. 

“Please, please, please Marc, please.” You whine. You push against him as close as you can. You can feel him throb deep inside you. “Please let me cum, please fuck me.” You do your utmost to convince him. And you clench your inner muscles on him. Marc groans loudly. “Don’t.” He hisses sharply. “Don’t want?” You cooe. He lands a spank on your ass. You moan loudly. “Please baby, fuck me.” You whine. 

“You are so pretty when you are desperate.” Marc smirks against your neck. He grabs you by the hip and keeps you still. He is not moving either.  “Stop being a bully Marc, let me cum.” You huff. “Or what?” Marc smirks. He nips at the back of your neck and you grow even more desperate. He’s playing you like a cheap kazoo and it’s no fun. He has best give you some good ass pay off. Or you will make him pay. You know how to do this, too. But revenge is a dish best served cold.  And you need to cum so badly right now. You need him to fuck you and to let you cum.  “Or what?” Marc repeats. “You’ll find out.” You reply angelically. It is probably getting you deeper into shit, but Marc is fishing for it. 

“You are all talk, beautiful.” Marc murmurs. 

Slowly you pull away from him. Marc huffs at the loss.  “What are you doing?” He demands.”Hush.” you whisper. 

You grab him by the shoulders and turn him firmly onto his back.You are no longer taking his BS. You are going to take what you want.  “Babe?” Marc growls. But you shake your head. “Don’t you babe me.” You tell him. His hands find your hips. “What have you planned?” He asks.  “Nothing you did not call down upon yourself.” You smirk at him and sink down on his cock again.  Marc can only moan lewdly, surrendering to your charge. 

[be-your-coffee-pot]

they hate each other and there's just one bed - part 1

A/N: So good god agentrry is finally here. Don't worry my loves this is just part 1. I had a a lot more written but word erased like 2k words I think ugh I'm sad. enjoy this anyways

Pairing: Agent!Harry Styles x Agent!Reader (female)

Word count: around 3.6k

TW: none much just swearing lots and lots of swearing, pretend wives and husbands mentions of killing trash acting jealous harry and one bed

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 Harry wants to kill her. Might just do it today.

“Stop glaring at each other, for god’s sake! This is supposed to be a pretty simple thing. Please don’t end up fucking killing each other before the mission is over.” Nick stated, raising a single eyebrow in a very matter of fact and totally Nick manner.

Nick Jamison was the captain of the Special Forces unit of SWAT, kept securely in the shadows (a bit like S.H.I.E.L.D. if you ask me, just much smaller), of which both Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles were part. They worked seamlessly together except for one bump on the road.

Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles hate each other.

Plain and simple right there.

The reason, you ask? A plethora of reasons. Y/N thinks Harry’s “way too motherfucking cocky” and that he should “get his stupid curly head out of his British ass.” She thinks all his niceness is just for show, and that he’s a total fake.

Harry Styles has the same things to say. According to him, “who the fuck does she think she is? Running around like she’s a goddamn saint.”

Nick’s hot take on the matter: “those two morons didn’t develop past their primary school phase where you push and pull the person you like because you don’t know how to deal with feelings. Plain and simple right there.”

I guess you know understand that even though they’ll work exceptionally together, they won’t willingly do it but they’re great together, so they have to you know.

This brings us here.

There was a slippery drug cartel that needed to be busted, but the unit had been struggling with getting the owner for months, and now finally, there was a way in.

“Dominic Vasquez is an eel. Snaky, slippery, and awfully hard to catch. We’ve been trying to find a suitable opening for a long time and finally have one.” Nick briefs Harry and Y/N, who is sulking in their seats.

“What opening? Please just spit this shit out, Nicky. I don’t really have the patience for your dramatics right now.” An annoyed Y/N remarks for the first time after entering the meeting room. As usual, both had been called in, not informed they would be doing a mission together, and the complaints and whining had begun. All they had done after acknowledging (scowling) each other was roll their eyes while glaring at each other through their director’s words.

A slight noise of agreement comes from the other agent in the room. Nick heaves a heavy sigh as he gestures vaguely at his prize pupils. “Look, you two, it’s paining me to breathe in all this sexual tension. Get a lid on it or go fuck it out. Please don’t drag me in it. Let me fucking finish.”

Their attention has been successfully piqued, all their pissiness vanishing as irritation and slight embarrassment settle on their features.

After an eye rollTM, the director gives all the information to the agents, who’re now listening as promptly as they’re ignoring each other. “His annual gala is next week, and that’s really the only opening. You are supposed to be new members, so you’ll be informed of that soon. You both will go in a day prior, get settled in. The whole thing is held at his mansion in Milan. You must find his office, grab evidence, and get out while being under the pretence of visitors. Simple.”

Harry is the one who speaks up this time, a sceptical eyebrow raises to accompany his words. “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to this?”

Nick sighs again like it’s hurting him to just breathe. “You’re going in as a married couple, Mr Andrew Jackson and Mrs Amelia Jackson.”

Y/N and Harry erupt in groans and protests of “why does this always happen” and “why do you always do this” in reference to the fact that they’d been in a few assignments previously where the both of them had to play a couple.

(Nick won’t say this out loud ever, but he thinks they’d make a damn great couple, so he keeps trying to push them together invisibly. Besides, they have great chemistry, so it really makes everything more believable.)

“Stop whining and get to it, Jesus Christ.”

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“Can you shift your fucking elbow?” Harry grunts in anger at his companion. Without looking up from the magazine in her hands, Y/N raises a single eyebrow at him, making absolutely no move to adjust her position.

Scoffing at the reply he received, or the lack thereof, the man shoves her elbow off the hand rest prompting an eye rollTM and an irritated groan from the agent beside him.

Surprisingly, Y/N doesn’t push him back because she’s too tired to deal with his shit at 6 in the fucking morning. Besides, it’s bloody December, so she just agitatedly pulls in her arms and continues to skim through the pages.

The next 2 hours or so are filled with glaring, under-the-breath grumbling and all sorts of gestures to annoy the other, but they thankfully make it out of the plane and to the hotel in one piece.

Harry shamelessly winks at the receptionist who’d just asked what name the room was under as Y/N rolls her eyesTM. “Jackson. Andrew Jackson sweetheart.” The girl blushes and giggles, quickly retrieving the key card.

“Jesus at least pretend like you have a wife,” Y/N mutters to her man-whore of a partner once they get inside the elevator. Harry’s lips tilt up in response, that infamous smug smirk coming out to play as he taunts her. “Why wifey, not getting enough attention, hmm? Jealousy isn’t that good of a look on you, sweetheart.”

“Please you’re too self-involved. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep it in your pants long enough to not fuck up my mission.” She scowls. Harry has the decency (or gall, whatever you will) to look offended at the comment. “Our mission and oh please miss goody to-shoes you know as well as I do that, I’m clearly the more responsible one out of the both of us. I’m not stupid enough to jeopardise our mission just because I wanted to get my dick wet.”

Y/N retorts just as the elevator doors open. “Aren’t you though, dear?” With his mouth gaping and the doors closing, he realises she just snatched the key card out of his hand.

The brunette hastily moves to catch up with her while she opens the door. Nick had actually booked them a suite and “it has two big beds, I swear!” However, the suite in question was slightly different from what was promised.

One single, king-sized bed stares back at them from the centre of the luxuriously decorated room.

Y/N breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

A deep groan emits from Harry as he rubs his eyes annoyedly.

“Screw you I’m taking the bed.” Before she could even think of saying something, Harry deposits himself on the bed, all gangly limbs as he sighs in satisfaction. She clenches her teeth and marches over to the bed, glaring at him with her arms crossed. He turns and grins up at her infuriatingly, “Can I help you with something, wifey?”

She shifts gears and gives him a saccharine smile. “Yes actually. How about you cuddle me to sleep, dear?” Harry’s brow furrows in mild disgust and he doesn’t even get a word out before Y/N is beside him with her arms wrapped around his lean body, fully flopping on top of him. He flails around like her touch burned him and knocks her over to the other side of the bed where she snickers at him. With a swift kick, Harry’s on the floor and Y/N has spread out starfish on the sheets.

He climbs back up to try to take control of the bed again, but Y/N just won’t let that happen. They wrestle each other and she’s just about to punch Harry when the doorbell rings. Her hand freezes a few inches away from his scowling face, both of them scrambling to fix their rumpled clothing. She stumbles off where she’d planted herself on his abdomen and opens the door while Harry shifts around to make it seem like he was just relaxing on the mattress.

The bellboy is standing in the hallway, holding their bags as he smiles at her maybe a little too amicably. “Hey yeah you can put them in here.” Y/N leads him inside the room. He puts down the suitcases and glances up to find an intimidatingly handsome man lounging on the bed, watching him with narrowed jade eyes.

Without taking his gaze off the boy, Harry calls to Y/N who was turning on the electric kettle at the side of the room. “Baby, can you come here for a second, please?”

“Yes, honey?” Y/N replies as she comes to stand at his side. She should get a fucking Oscar for how great she played along right there. Her ‘husband’s hand comes up to rest on her thigh as he lazily smiles at her. “Tip the boy darling, then can we please take a nap, hmm?”

With her back turned to the steward, she raises her eyebrows at his antics, quickly moving to retrieve her temporary husband’s wallet. “Sure honey.”

Harry’s scowling at the bellboy as he leaves.

“If you need anything mam, I’ve been Aaron. Don’t hesitate to call, I’ll be right here.” Y/N quickly shoos him away rolling her eyesTM at his attempt of shooting his shot. Harry is still scowling. “I’ve been Aaron. Don’t hesitate to call, mam.” He mocks in a high-pitched accented voice.

“Look who’s jealous now, dear. You seriously felt threatened by a bellboy, Styles? That’s how weak your ego is?” The agent scorns the notion, switching the subject smoothly.

“Fuck that. Grab a chair, we’re running over the plan.”

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                                                                             .

Y/N is just about ready to stab him with the fork in her hand.

“If you don’t stop smirking and start acting like a goddamn husband, I swear to god I will rip out your carotid,” Harry smirks, of course, he does.

“Gonna use your teeth, sweetheart? Never would have taken you to be that kinky.”

He should be thankful the waiter arrives right that moment or he would have ended up one major artery down.

The waiter looks at Y/N, completely disregarding the man with her as he asks for her order. “Good afternoon mam. What will you be having today?” He very sweetly asks to which she gives him a tight but polite smile. She can just barely hear Harry mumble under his breath, “Definitely none of your bullshit.”

“I think I’ll just go with the mushroom risotto. Thank you.” Harry clears his throat, finally gaining the waiter’s attention. The guy has the nerve to look irritated at Harry’s intervention, which piques the agent further.

“If you’d be willing to pay attention to me, I would like a cheese ravioli, thank you.” Upon receiving death eyes from the man, the waiter quickly nods and runs but not before flashing a smile at Y/N.

An eyebrow is already raised when she fully turns in her partner’s direction. “Seriously, Styles? Again?” He rolls his eyesTM, scoffing at her insinuation and yet again opting to ignore her remark.

“Shut up. Give me your hand.” She grouses at the sheer duality of the statement, lips curling in annoyance.

“What? Why would I ever do that?”

“Shutting up or giving me your hand?” Harry mutters with a boyish grin. The dimples alone make it seem like he was just flirting playfully. “Come on, wifey. Pay your husband some attention.”

It clicks to Y/N suddenly that they’re supposed to play pretend and she’d somewhat lost track of the notion. She huffs quietly and slips a hand into his ringed one, watching as he brings it up to his lips.

A strange shock goes through her as Harry’s jade eyes meet hers and his lips softly brush over her knuckles like he was glad to be allowed this close. He laces their fingers together, giving her a moony smile, she would’ve swooned over him if he wasn’t a douche. She returns it with just as much sentiment.

“I have never wanted to end your existence more.” “Trust me I feel the same.”

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.                                 .                                 .

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Fortunately, the waiter made it out alive.

Harry is not a violent person generally but after today Harry swears, he has never longed to put a bullet in someone’s head more.

During the one hour or so, Y/N and Harry spent at the restaurant, that damn waiter kept making passes at Y/N while ignoring Harry’s presence at the table. So much so that he made her uncomfortable. Now Harry may hate her guts but that does not mean he’ll sit and watch a moron try to objectify his companion. Moreso make her uncomfortable as she sat with her husband?

So, when he interrupted their sweet moment to present their meals and make a comment about how the madam looked much more ravishing than the food, it’s safe to say Harry may have lost it a teensy bit.

I’m not saying Harry got up under the stance of gonna run to the loo real quick and whispered in the waiter’s ear to dare and make one more remark on my wife, or that he’ll gut you like the fish on that table. I’m not saying that he sat and glared at the terrified man with satisfaction or smirked when Y/N told him to keep it in check. I’m also not saying he replied I’m your husband baby it’s my job.

But then again, I’m also not saying he didn’t.

“Jesus Harry, that poor guy was petrified. Did you really have to?” Y/N gets out in a fit of laughter as they get in the hotel elevator. Harry titters along with her, shaking his head and announcing in an overly posh British accent. “I’m your husband baby, it’s my job!”

She collapses into giggles again but for some reason this time, Harry stands and stares with something akin to fondness at her glee. She wipes under her eyes, raising a questioning brow at his gaze. “What? ‘ve I got something on my face?”

“No, nothing.”

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“Fuck you, Styles.”

“You wish, Y/L/N.”

She huffs and stomps and smushes his face into the pillow in her hands in a failed attempt at asphyxiation. He chortles.

“Let me take the bed, Styles, don’t be a dick come on.” Y/N tries one more time, but the man just turns, sighs, and goes spread eagle on the mattress.

After lunch, they discussed their plan some more and went around Dominic Vasquez’s mansion to scout out the area. Nick had given them a blueprint of the property so that they could mark down possible exit routes and things like that. That is what they’d spent the rest of the day doing but now it’s 11 and they really need to sleep.

Upon receiving zero replies from the man spread on the bed, Y/N sighs heavily. She was stubborn as fuck sure but then again, she wasn’t gonna keep fighting and risk having him blow up uselessly.

Turning off the lights, she tiredly crawls onto the stiff couch. Harry’s already snoring, and she can’t even get comfortable.

She tosses and turns as the clock tick’s midnight, but sleep is a fever dream. She chucks her pillow onto the carpet, quickly following after it. The floor might be a better option than the couch.

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   .

It’s been 1876 seconds and Harry snores 4 times every minute and it’s been 30. The floor is hurting her back.

Y/N gives up on sleep altogether, getting up and turning on the one lamp placed on the oak table in the room. A warm buttery light surrounds that corner of the room. She looks over her shoulder to see if it disturbed Harry but he was still snoring.

He looked almost adorable like this. Messy curls strewn over his forehead, chest rising with soft subdued breaths. His features were relaxed, free of that furrow he gets in his brows when he’s ticked off.

Her lips quirk up the tiniest bit but she doesn’t indulge in it any further. Y/N gently pulls out the chair with a sigh, plopping down on it and flipping open the case files. Might as well work.

“Y/L/N. Y/L/N wake up! Wake up, Jesus.” Y/N can just make out a deep, accented voice mumbling and a hand shaking her shoulder gently. “Y/L/N come on you idiot.”

She rises slowly, groaning out a sigh. She tips her head back to find Harry standing above her, sleep smeared over his face.

“Why the fuck are you sleeping on the table?” She learns that Harry’s voice becomes much deeper and raspier when he wakes up and she doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge.

“I-I was sleeping on the couch first but then I tried the floor cause the couch was very stiff but then like the ground was stiffer so I tried to do some work and I think I might’ve fallen asleep? What time is it?”

“Oh yeah, no shit Sherlock. It’s around 1:17 something. You can-you can uh come sleep on the bed. It’s large enough for like 3 people and we both need sleep so you can take one side, I guess.”

Y/N raises her eyebrow. “You’re sure? You know what, I’m not even gonna question it. Get outta the way, motherfucker.”

Harry mutters something along the lines of why did I let her sleep in my bed but does nothing as she wriggles under the unmade side of the bed. Y/N’s eyes are already drooping as he gets under the covers on his side.

“Stay on your fucking side, Y/L/N. I mean it please.”

She hums out an unintelligible response.

Harry doesn’t remember when he fell back to sleep but the last thing, he did remember that night was his partner’s arm extending away from her face where it had been previously and landing next to his, their pinkies now wrapped together.

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He feels warm. It’s not the fuck I’m burning it’s too much kind of warmth but rather the toasty welcomed kind. The one where you’re curled up under a blanket watching a movie with your cat at your feet, a fire cackling gently by the side, sweet candles burning, and an even sweeter girl in your arms.

Harry’s emerald eyes blink open heavily. There’s a weight in his arms and it’s 4 am. The weight shifts. It also sighs and cuddles closer to Harry. He finds the weight is actually a person. The person is Y/N and it’s pleasant.

Harry falls back to sleep.

.                                                                    .

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.

She feels warm. It’s not the ah it’s burning kind of warmth but rather the welcomed toasty kind. The one where you’re snuggled up under the covers watching a movie with your cat at your feet and there’s a fire cackling gently by the side, sweet candles burning and an even sweeter boy, holding you in his arms.

Y/N’s eyes blink open heavily. There’s a weight on top of her and it’s 8 am. The weight shifts. It also sighs and snuggles tighter around Y/N. She finds the weight is actually a person. The person is Harry and it’s very unpleasant.

Y/N squawks and throws him down.

“What in the Jesus Christ-” Harry gapes from the floor, having been woken up suddenly. He looks up and there she is holding her pillow like a weapon. Is she serious?

“Why the fuck were you cuddling me?”

“Why the fuck would I cuddle you?”

“I do not fucking know! You were the one on top of me!”

“You were the one on my side!”

“Well, someone crossed over!”

“You did!”

“Oh no, you were the one who started it!”

“Shut your bitch ass up, you started it, Styles!”

“Oh, please Y/L/N, you are the last person I would want to snuggle with. I may be a touchy person but I’m not that desperate-”

“Oh, you’re a man-whore so you better jus-”

Someone’s phone rings.

It’s Nick.

There’s silence.

Then there’s scrambling.

Y/N snatches up the phone and answers it.

“Hey yeah hi. Good morning, Nick, how’re you doing this fine morning?” She awkwardly asks her director and Harry just crouches on the floor, his head in his hands.

“Y/N what did you do? It’s not even 9 yet. Why are you answering Styles’ phone? Did you two finally fuck it out or like-”

“Nick! Please. What do you want?”

Harry leans against the bed like he’s in pain (might as well be) because he can very well listen to the conversation going on, on the phone.

Nick heaves a sigh on the other side. “I just wanted to ask you two how it’s going and inform you from where you’d be collecting your clothes for tonight.”

They straighten up and look at each other. Down to business.

“There’s this cute boutique downtown, owned by a sweet lady called Juliana. Now, she is doing me a big favour by entertaining your asses-”

“Oh, now come on that’s not fai-”

“Shut up Y/L/N and let me finish. Have no manners I swear to god.”

Before Y/N can open her mouth to complain some more (she always whines like this but Nick never says anything, not to her) Harry snatches his cell back and clears his throat.

“Now movin on. You’ll go to her no late than noon and take your pick from whatever options she has. Don’t bother her too much.”

“You sweet for her, Nicky?” Harry snickers, sneaking a look at Y/N who’s doing the same.

“Sure like you are for that wife of yours, huh Styles?”

Nick ends Harry and the call.

[leggerefiore]

Primal Thrill

cw: 18+ content, AFAB reader, eelektross Emmet, monster fucking, eggpreg, light predator kink, biting, water sex, cunt and pussy are used as descriptors

pairing: Emmet/Reader

words: 1554

another mermay addition. I should probably write a version without eggpreg haha

There was nothing quite like the thrill of the chase, you thought.

Your boyfriend seemed inclined to agree to that notion as well.

Swimming was something that you had adapted to since beginning your relationship with Emmet, an Eelektross hybrid. It was also what you were currently doing. Summer had rolled in and so had your ability to bear the ocean's waves, which meant more time spent with your beloved boyfriend physically.

And, well, more time for sex.

The water splashed around you as you swam desperately away from the hybrid. He was hot on your trail, and you could even feel moments where his hand reached out and grabbed your leg, careful not to throw off your strides. A glance behind you to him, showed a terrifying visage of the giant eel man pursuing you much like he would his prey. Those beautiful metallic eyes of his laid with slit pupils that were nearly invisible, and his grin was haunting, what with all his razor sharp teeth exposed.

Your heart raced from it, and you tried to move faster to get away from him. This was, however, not you in danger. No, this was the thrill. A predator chasing after its prey to do whatever it pleased afterwards. You almost let you a scream when his frigid hand once again grasped on to your ankle. He held on to it tightly, lead to you slowing down. Gazing back at him, you realised just how far you had gone out from the shore.

His grin grew to something between teasing and giddy as he quickly moved to hold your body against his, tail playfully wrapping around your leg. You shivered when his lips came down upon your nape, lightly biting and sucking at the flesh. You felt the urge to rub your thighs together, but were unable to due to your leg restraint. The pleasure that the thrill brought was almost embarrassing to admit.

You felt his groin press flush to yours, the slippery skin foreign to your own human texture. Your swimsuit was just in the way, but skinny-dipping did not see so appealing. Emmet let out a soft whine as he moved to rut against you. His dick was still hidden within its sheath, yet you could tell he was getting excited from his expression. You wrapped your free leg around him, alongside your arms around his neck. A few more nibbles at your neck followed before he pulled away with lidded eyes.

“… Darling,” his voice was like a purr in your ears, “I want to consume you…” His lips quickly pressed to yours. Only for but a moment, chaste, as his terrifyingly sharp teeth came to bite at your lips teasingly. You parted your lips as he sucked your tongue into his mouth. His hands came to grope at your ass as he continued to rut his hips against yours. A moan escaped from you and was swallowed by him.

His dick slowly began to press out from its sheath, long and wriggling. You swallowed as your brain rushed with feelings of pleasure that the appendage had brought you in the past. The kiss was broke as you gasped for air, Emmet's gills moving quickly, too. “Verrrry sweet,” he cooed, “You are the sweetest prey I've ever had.” You felt his thumbs lock under the waistband of your swim bottoms.

They were pressed down with slight manoeuvring of your free leg to expose your pussy to the apex predator's sight. His grin twisted into something perverse, while his eyes darkened into a cooler iron. A hand grasped your thigh easily while the other pressed a lanky finger between your folds. Another joined it as he spread you, eyes eagerly taking in the sight of your swollen cunt. A coo left him. His other hand was brought over, he pressed a finger into you. The intrusion left an excited coil in your stomach, but little in the way of actual pleasure.

Another soon joined it, Emmet's tongue pressing out from his lips as he began to scissor you open. A small groan left you. Locking your arms tighter around his neck, you moved in time with his hand's thrust. A giggle came from him, betraying the role he was playing. His hand that had been spreading your lips moved away to help support you again. For a moment, you were fucking yourself on his fingers, with him adding another somewhere in there. His thumb had come to rub against your clit, drawing out more pleasure from your body.

His fingers came to hit a perfect spot inside you, causing your toes to curl. A cry left you as you buried your face into his neck. Emmet immediately took to abusing it, working your easily into cumming on his fingers. Your moans were absolutely music to his ears, better than any song a Primarina could sing. Your walls clenched around his fingers desperately.

He slowly removed them from you, enjoying how your expression twitched with pleasure. They were brought to his mouth. His tongue circled around them. Your sweet flavour continued to send him further and further into the madness of lust. The twin wanted you. Bad. His lips pressed to yours again, quickly spreading your lovely taste into your mouth.

Emmet's hips had taken back to rutting against you once more. His brain demanded he take you, to appease the growing need in his gut. When he broke the kiss, your lidded eyes peered deep into him. He swallowed. “Emmy…” you whined, “More, Emmet, please…” You moved alongside his ruts desperately, “I want you!” With that, he let his instincts take over entirely.

Your leg was freed by him as he positioned you into a better position. The tip of his dick pressed into you; it being the thinnest part of his tendril like cock. A soft moan came from you as he pressed his way into you with relative ease, already stretched and wet from his fingers. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your head rested on his shoulder. The stretch of the base was always so filling. For a moment, you both stayed completely still in the stirring waters.

This, however, passed with Emmet finding a fast and hard pace. His thoughts were little more than to fuck and keep your head above water. Your nails dug into his back, the sting perfect in his mind. The odd feeling of his cock wriggling and twitching inside you elicited unfamiliar pleasures from you.

He found his face buried into your nape again. Teeth soon buried themselves into your skin once more as soft growls and groans escaped him. You felt the pain mixing with the pleasure of him fucking you so ferally in the water. His dick hit the entrance of your womb and caused a loud cry to escape. The teeth only dug in deeper, the surprise feeling of your walls tightening around him catching him off-guard.

You felt yourself growing hotter and more desperate. Hips moving with his, you cried out, “Emmy, more!” He easily granted your wish, hips rutting roughly. His cock pressed so deep inside you while the wriggling and massaging grew in intensity. You sobbed out as you found yourself cumming hard against him. He held on to you tightly, sharp nails digging into the softness of your thighs.

Emmet fucked you through your orgasm, causing your brain to feel a bit fried. He did release a few unexpected shocks, too, in his excitement. You could only moan and take the pleasure as he continued to rut into you.

When he finally stilled, he was buried into you as deeply as he could be. You swallowed at the feeling of the tip of his dick pressed to your cervix. The swell at the base of his cock was not an unknown one, but you could feel yourself shiver in anticipation. It travelled down his tentacle cock and came to a slow stop at the tip.

Another shock quickly surged from him, causing you to whine. The next feeling your body understood was the small eggs rolling inside you with a fluid. You nuzzled your face into his neck. Emmet supported your body with ease, strength most apparent. Another egg swell quickly followed. You curled your toes.

More and more pushed their way inside you. Another orgasm ripped from you at the third one. With every egg, you found yourself completely lost in the pleasure once more. A distension became visible in your stomach as he continued to pump his eggs into you. Emmet pecked light kisses to your temple while giving soft coos when you let out a cry.

By the time he was finished, you felt unsure if you could swim back to shore, a bit brainless from pleasure and unadjusted to the eggs. He pulled out slowly as his cock retracted back into its sheath. His arms stayed tightly around you.

“Heehee, now a real predator could catch you easily,” he teased while beginning to wade back to shore.

“... And get eel caviar?” you sassed him back, nuzzling into his neck.

“On second thought, I'd kill them!” Emmet corrected himself and began to swim faster. You chuckled at his reply.

“Mmm, love you, Em,” you yawned.

“I love you, too, darling.”

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Lambden 💕💜?

Here ya go!!! ❤️😁

Trying to pin the Cat was like trying to keep hold of a damn eel. Lambert wouldn't let it be said he wasn't giving it his best try though, even if he had lost count of how many elbows and knees he'd received to various body parts. It was all in good fun though - nothing like a friendly tussle before dinner to burn off excess energy when there were no monsters around.

He let out a triumphant "Hah!" When he finally succeeded in pinning Aiden to the forest floor. All of his weight centred on the Cat's torso as he practically lay on top of him in an effort to keep him still, his hands holding slender wrists as the other Witcher squirmed looking very put out, his breath ghosting across Lambert's face with every irritated huff and snarl from where their noses were practically touching, "Gotcha, you slippery little fuck!"

Had Lambert not been so busy gloating, he would have noticed the smirk making its way across Aiden's face.

"Maybe you should try not fighting dirty next time? Might actually get somewhere other than-" Lambert froze when Aiden suddenly closed the distance between their faces and pressed a kiss to the end of his nose with an obnoxious "Mwah!"

What the fuck...?

That was the scant opening Aiden needed, using Lambert's momentary lapse in concentration to free his wrists from the Wolf's suddenly lax grip and flip their positions.

"I dunno. I think my way works quite well." He said innocently with a wink as he leaned in close, drumming his fingers against Lambert's chest and laughing at his dumbstruck expression as he stared up at him.

That snapped Lambert out of it and he grabbed onto Aiden's forearms as he surged upwards intending to....he didn't know - lick him or something equally childishly gross. He felt fully justified in being petty right now.

Unfortunately his mouth collided with Aiden's face just as the Cat moved his head slightly, causing him to miss his original target of the others cheek and catch Aiden's bottom lip instead, instantly ceasing the laughter.

They both froze, mouths still slightly open as Lambert's brain supplied a very helpful loop of 'shitshitshitshit' before suggesting that he should probably move away.

Aiden however seemed to have a very different idea as he gently pulled on Lambert's top lip with his teeth, causing any further thought to catch fire and die before it had even fully formed. He watched as the Cat's eyes drifted closed, his tongue flicking out to briefly meet the tip of Lambert's in question - or possibly invitation - and yup. That did it.

Lambert tilted his head, letting out a pleased hum alongside Aiden's when their mouths slotted together properly. His own eyes drifted shut as Aiden's arms found their way around his neck, fingers lightly scritching through his hair as Lambert's own hands explored a toned back and fuck the Gods, why hadn't they ever done this before?

Even Witchers need to breathe though and they both parted gasping.

"Still think fighting dirty gets you nowhere?" Aiden asked with a grin, pressing another, sweeter kiss to the tip of Lambert's nose.

Lambert shrugged with a smirk, "Undecided." He said, reeling Aiden back in for another and laughing into it as Aiden turned it almost as dirty as his fighting had been.