#just a more subtle bird guy

[applestruda]

*redesigns my grian the night before the new hc season*

[adobe-outdesign]

The trick to understanding the DHMIS trio’s dynamic is to know that Duck likes Red Guy

Red Guy likes Yellow Guy

and Yellow Guy likes Duck.

it is because of this dynamic that none of them are happy with their current situation yet none of them can live without it. and also why they kill each other with chainsaws sometimes

[strawberrysturniolo]

need a sub chris asap. giving you creative freedom but major sub/mommy vibes

wet dreams //sub!chris

summary: you decide to please your boyfriend when you see him experiencing a sex dream. sub!chris. mommy kink. male!receiving. use of vibrator on male.

Sleepovers at my boyfriend's house are nightly at this point. I practically live with him. I have a toothbrush here, a caddy in the shower filled with my necessities, a drawer of extra clothes, a few pairs of shoes, an extra charger. There’s even some decor that is mine. 

People are often surprised to find that me and Chris don’t technically live together. I just spend so much time with him, and he insists that he sleeps better with someone else in his bed. I have been told by his brothers that he’s tired of him trying to cuddle them while he sleeps. I’m here to fill that void. 

I woke up earlier than him today. That’s never surprising. I may not be a true early bird, but compared to Chris, I’m up at the crack of dawn. 

I put on some clean clothes, walking around the bedroom and watching him stir in his sleep. His mouth started out parted slightly, but every so often, a soft gasp left his lips and forced them open more. When his mouth wasn’t open, his lips were pressed together. 

I found myself watching him as he made subtle sounds. As time went on, he turned to his stomach, and my stomach dropped, knowing what was happening. 

His soft moans turned into low grunts as he started pressing his crotch into the mattress, his hips shifting ever so slightly. His toned back flexed as he moved, his briefs tight around his ass, and I only imagined the sight of his dick begging to be freed from the fabric. 

I swallowed harshly as I watched him, standing in shock. I knew he had sex dreams. He had told me about them before. He had them frequently. Maybe it was a guy thing, or maybe he was just horny all the time. I just had never seen it happen before my eyes. 

I made small, careful steps to the bed, making sure not to wake him. I want to see how far this will go. 

A sharp gasp left his throat, making me freeze. 

“Fuck,” he muttered before turning his head to the other side. His hand clutched a pillow, gripping it tightly. I was dying to know what he was dreaming of. What we were doing. How we were touching each other. 

I was struggling to keep myself together as I watched. I lowered myself to the bed, sitting down softly and moving next to him, watching him up close. 

His forehead had a small bead of sweat dripping from his skin. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut as his desperate sounds of pleasure seeped out of him. 

It went on for a few minutes before he turned onto his back. He was still asleep, but his dick was throbbing inside of his underwear. I could see it twitch as his dream went on. A wet spot lingered on the gray fabric, growing by the second. 

An element of our sex life that had been discussed was the idea of consensual non-consent – an idea of us being more than okay with the other person waking us up with a sexual act. I had always been hesitant about the idea. I didn’t want to wake him up and have him complain about being too tired throughout the day just so we could have sex. 

But this was different. He was obviously desperate. He was practically fucking the mattress begging for a release. I had to help him. He would want me to. 

I carefully traced my fingers on his left thigh, feeling the soft hair that decorated his tan skin. He twitched a little more in his sleep, and his sounds of approval were enough to encourage me to go all the way. 

I placed my hand over his bulge, the wetness seeping through finding my palm. My heart is racing as I wait for him to wake up. He lets out a gasp at my touch, bucking his hips harshly. 

He’s still asleep.

A few minutes passed. My hand continued to stroke his dick as his moans grew. I expected him to wake up at this point, but everything I am doing is probably just pushing into his dream. He has no reason to wake up because he is getting everything he needs while he sleeps. 

A loud moan leaves his mouth, making my eyes shoot open. I carefully peel down the waistband of his underwear, watching as his tip leaks. I spread some of the pre-cum around his tip with my thumb before licking over his slit. 

“Please, baby,” he whines. “Please.”

I take him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around his length. As his moans grow, I shake him by his shoulder while I suck him off, waking him up so he can bask in what’s real rather than his dream. 

His eyes open softly. He looks groggy and confused momentarily before he realizes that this pleasure is real. His head falls backwards and he lifts a hand to my hair, pushing my head down on him. 

“Fuck baby,” he groans. 

“What were you dreaming about?” I ask, pulling off of him and stroking him instead.

He shakes his head. “Don’t stop.”

I grip his balls, making him gasp. “Tell me.”

“You were bouncing on my dick,” he breathes out. “You held a vibrator to your clit. You were writhing on me, clenching like crazy. But every so often the vibrator would hit my tip. It was so much.”

I’ve never used a vibrator on him, but now I’m more tempted than ever.

“You want me to use a vibrator on you?” I ask.

His eyes widen. He nods frantically.

I spit on his tip. “Are you gonna speak or act pathetic for me and struggle to get words out?”

“I’m gonna talk,” he promises. “Please. I wanna try it.”

I nod, sucking his tip a little bit more before I lean over to my nightstand and grab my bullet vibrator. My theory is that starting small would be a better option for him before we use one that is bigger and could work on his entire dick. I want him to feel comfortable with this first. 

His dick is twitching relentlessly as he waits for my touch again. I love seeing him like this. He’s always dominant during sex. I never get to see the submissive side of him. It makes me feel powerful, and I crave control of him in this area of our lives. 

I turn on the vibrator, letting him hear the sound of the buzzing so he can decide if he wants to continue. His stomach heaves. 

“Please,” he whines. “I need you to touch me.” 

“Yeah?” I tease. I lick a stripe up his cock again. “How bad do you need me to touch you?”

“So bad.”

I lean my body over him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his mouth. “You gonna be a good boy for me?”

Something in his eyes changes.

“I’ll be so good for you, mommy.”

Oh hell.

I slide back down to his dick, jerking him slowly with one hand before I trace the vibrator around his tip. His hips buck hard before I press them back down to the bed. 

“Don’t you dare,” I warn. 

“I’m sorry,” he cries out. “Ohhhh fuck. Please. It’s so good. Oh my god.”

The sounds he’s making are unlike anything I’ve ever heard from him. He’s whining, whimpering, panting, begging for me. It’s taking everything in me to continue to tease him, wanting to edge him from his high.

“I can’t- Fuck. I need to cum,” he says. “Please. Please, I need to.”

I shake my head. “Not yet.” 

He lets out a desperate cry. “Please!”

“Gotta be a good boy, baby,” I remind him. 

“I’m being so good,” he whimpers. His eyes are full, tears almost pouring out as he struggles to hold back.

“I know baby,” I nod, knowing he needs that praise and validation right now. I drag the vibrator up and down his cock before pressing it to his tip again as I stroke the area. 

“Fuck!” he shouts, his hips raising again with no control as he cums, catching us both by surprise. My eyes widen before I look up, meeting his eyes. He’s shaking his head like crazy as he continues to cum. “I’m so sorry, mommy. Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please.”

I let him finish before I remove the vibrator, tossing it to the floor. I press soft kisses from his stomach up to his lips before peppering his face in kisses. “It’s okay, baby. Did so good for me, hm?”

He nods breathlessly. “Thank you for waking me up, but now I really need to go back to sleep. I’m exhausted.” 

I smile. “Let’s go shower and get back in bed, okay?”

He nods, pressing a tired kiss to my cheek before pulling himself out of bed. 

@freshloveforthefit @lacysturniolo @mattitties @floofparker @javalakers @creamoncreamoncream2 @heebiejeebiezz @sturnswrites @runupthathillgirl @gdsvhtwa @666hellokitty420 @runupthathillgirl

[rinbowaman]

Baby Fever

Warnings: breeding kink, rough smut implied, smut-ish stuff, some minor choking, smut talk (breeding smut talk...if yk...yk). MDNI this is only for the grownups (18+).

Authors note: this drabble is canon to the HHP storyline > : ) I had this in mind for a few days and wanted to quickly draft it for yall to hold you guys off until the treat comes out this weekend 😉

What a gorgeous morning it was; the sun beaming brightly and the fresh, crisp Spring air filled with the chirping of birds, and the newborn flowers blooming in greeting. You woke up alone, figuring Heeseung was downstairs in the kitchen, considering the minor commotion you overheard from the bedroom. You got up and figured that on the first day of Spring, what better way to greet your lover than to wear the dress that he absolutely loved seeing you in. It was a purple mini floral, rather form fitting despite the subtle empire waist line, which gently showed a hint of your curves. The front had a stringed, lace front that tied the scoop neck line together, cradling your breasts and proposing the faint curves of your cleavage. It was both sexy, and pretty, especially when paired with sheer, black, thigh-high stockings, edged with a beautifully elegant damask pattern that subtly hid beneath the hem of your short dress. Your hair was left freely down, since that was the way he always preferred you wore it. He loved your hair.

Every single night, he would run his fingers through your strands, rubbing them together to savor the silkiness of the texture. He never cared to use a brush because it took away the pleasure of feeling that softness of your locks. The way he would drape the length of your strands over his knuckles and rub it against his cheek, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo, which always ended with him leaning in to suck on the back of your neck. If anyone should think that his behavior with your hair is absurd, you wonder what they would think when he looks into your eyes, or take his time to feel your skin...guess that will be saved for another story.

After conducting your morning hygiene, you walk down the stairs. Gripping on the ball tip of the large banister, you playfully swung your way around to face the open view of the kitchen and dining area, immediately making eye contact with Heeseung.

He smiles as he stands on the opposite end of the large kitchen island, with his palms plastered on the surface top and leaned over just slightly over a mug, more than likely containing his favorite coffee drink. He was dressed all in black, a black fitted tee, lightly tucked in black fashionable fitted cargo pants, with a black hat. The lines located at the corner of his lips was all that the bill of his headpiece would allow you to see as he smirks upon seeing you enter the kitchen.

"Oh, y/n! It's so good to see you."

Shocked by the voice from the side, you turn to view over shoulder and saw Steve, one of the frat tenants that lived with Heeseung and the other roommates.

"Hi Steve. When did you come back from vacation?" you ask with a delicate smile as you greet him, when a young woman appears from behind him with a small bundle locked in her arms. "I got back last night, it was so late and I didn't want to wake anyone so I stayed at a hotel. But, let me introduce my sister, she just had a baby two months ago and was in town so I decided to bring her over to meet everyone."

You smile gleefully as you greeted Steve's sister. "Oh nice to meet you." you delicately spoke as she does the same. "It's nice to meet you, your y/n, right? Steve was just introducing me to Ethan and mentioned you, it's so good to meet you."

Your peripherals caught on to Heeseung remaining stagnant in his stance, eyeballing you, Steve, and his sister, Lauren. He takes a sip out of his cup, his eyes never breaking away from you.

"How far along in college are you?" Lauren asks, in which you respond sweetly as you both continue talking about college life. Heeseung remained as he always did when around other people, a bit standoffish and quiet, glaring over and keeping an eye on you. At least he was being a bit more pleasant since he knew Steve, being roommates under the same roof for years now. It was typical, everyone, including the frat tenants, all knew that Heeseung "Ethan" became a walking malice since he began dating you, and it was evident that he cared for no one or anything other than you...you wonder what they would think if they ever knew that there indeed, was an "Ethan" entity that was more than just an english version of his birth name.

"Would you like to hold the baby?" Lauren gains your attention back as she presents her bundle of joy. "Oh...um sure." Cradling the small child, you held him tightly as you cupped him against your bosom. "Wow, you're so good with him." she remarks surprisingly as she straightens her dress and heads to the bathroom to freshen up.

That was to be expected. With all the time spent babysitting for your neighbors while in high school, you were quite used to holding and handling a newborn baby. You sat down on the dining chair and laid the baby against your chest, gently patting and rubbing his back, all the while he drifted off with his head nestled against the crevice of your cleavage.

"Looks like you're ready to be a mom." Steve joked aloud, meanwhile Heeseung kept sipping on his coffee, occasionally eyeing you from the corner of his sharp gaze.

"Noooo." you chuckled out. "I used to babysit for my neighbors, they had a baby that I would look after often." You explained, keeping eye contact on the baby's soft head as you gently palmed the back of it, rubbing the tip of your nose against it.

After some time went by, Steve and Lauren departed to spend a day in the old town, leaving you and Heeseung alone in the frat house. With all the other tenants away to enjoy the ongoing Spring festivals, the house was completely empty, and would be that way for the entire day.

"Can we go out for a walk?" you ask as Steve and Lauren walked out the door. Heeseung gently sets down his cup and issues a subtle nod. "Okay, I'm going to get my phone." you smiled out as you walked up the stairs, with him slowly following close by. Guess he needed to get something from upstairs as well.

He opens the door for you, a traditional habit, and allows you to walk in first. Halfway in the room, you barely caught your breath as you felt a sudden shift in motion with a firm lock around your waist. Nearly levitating you from off the ground, Heeseung swooped, and flung you on his bed, following suit and hovering over your body as you turn to face him. You stutter out a gasp from shock as your hair lays in a massive spread, with a few delicate strands across your face. There, you were met face to face with the devil.

His eyes dark, and his smirk was devious, but you could tell by the minor shine in his iris, he didn't swap over to his other side. The bill of his hat kept the shadow to grace over his face as he stares down. With one hand gripping your shoulder, the other reaches up and starts to pull the string tie at the front of your dress. He pulls, dreadfully slow as you feel the flap of your scoop neckline coming undone; one by one, he pulls each string until the opening was completely loosened. Your nipples peek from beneath the expanded laced string as your dress holds its remaining form. The hem was rolled slightly up from the swing of his strength when he threw you on the bed, exposing those thigh high stockings in full. Chuckling deeply, he pulls the last string on your dress as he spoke out in a shallow tone. "Does my girl want to be a mommy?"

You shook your head subtly. You were just being helpful, there was no way you thought about having children, besides, it was far too early considering you were still in your first year of college, not to mention you were still on birth control.

"N-no..."

"Mm...I think you do." he responds in an antagonizing manner and gently shifts the pieces of hair away from your face. He props himself steady with his palm plastered on your collarbone, and raising his body to rests on his knee caps. There, he takes advantage of your already spread thighs, and reaches in under your dress to scoot your lace panties off to the side. Once you were completely exposed to the cool air, he reaches in and with flickering fingertips, he tickles the sensitive flesh in between your plush folds. You gasp and moan out soft giggles, as did he. With a dark chuckle and biting down his lip, he remains propped to display the full sight of his abdominal region, where you admired the view of his hand reaching down, gently unzipping his black trousers, and his strong veiny hands fishing out the massive and swollen muscle that caused you to gasp at the mere sight of it. You reached up, grabbing onto his forearm as he remained on your collarbone, feeling his thumb swiping over the contours of the bone. Anticipating for what he was going to do, you felt yourself riddling with a burning sense of desire and passion.

You watched as the girth of his shaft and the bulbous tip disappear under the material of your dress as he leans in, and feeds it through, piercing your fleshy barrier until it finally makes its way in. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin, "no more taking birth control."

"Uh...uh huh...."

"I wanna hear you say it."

"I-I'll get....get off it..."

"Let me take care of you....let me fuck you."

"Mm...mmhmm..."

He raises his form and once more, he props himself up by the extension of his forearm and palm planted beside your head on the bedspread. With his strong hand, he raises it as the tips of his fingers drag along your skin. Gently, with his fingers gracefully wrapping around your throat, he gives a faint squeeze, just enough to make you gasp a separate moan. With a dark and devilishly handsome smile, he gleams under the shadow of his hat; there it was...that eerie and rather handsome smile of malice and passion formulates on that face of his.

"Ready?"

You nod somewhat hesitantly. Bracing for intense pleasure, you knew all too well what was about to come, especially when feeling the throbbing sense of his tip as it barely lies inside you. "Y-yes...yes daddy..." you whispered, grabbing hold of his wrist as you prepare for a momentum that is unlike anything this world could replicate.

"Yeah?...come here, let’s do this, mommy."

> : )

[darkaviarymc]

Imagine Grian eating like. Super spicy food all the time. Extra hot sauce, stuff loaded with peppers, just straight up peppers.

And because this is Hermitcraft, other hermits try to one-up Grian by eating more and spicier things in front of him. But while Cub is shoving his face into a bucket of milk, Xisuma is gasping and crying on the ground, and Scar is stripping down and jumping into a cold ocean, Grian is just sitting there with a smug grin chomping down on ghost peppers like they're candy.

It becomes a game among the hermits to try to find a pepper or a sauce that will make Grian react. Doc's "Spice Hybrid Inovation Technology" initiative has produced peppers that can't even be measured on the Scoville scale.

But Grian? Never once do his eyes even tear up. His cheeks never turn even the subtle shade of pink.

One day during a meeting, Bdubs looses it. He starts screaming at Grian demanding to know what trick Grian has up his sleeve, what sabotage he's doing to their efforts to find something spicy enough to make him sweat.

But during Bdubs' tirade, Pearl burst out laughing. They all turn to her and accuse her of being in on the conspiracy. Once she finally calms down, she simply says,

"What? It's not my fault you guys didn't know."

"Didn't know what!" Bdubs demands.

And for some of them it clicks. Their are groans and facepalms throughout the group, but just as many confused looks.

Grian takes a sip from his bottle of Atomic Destruction. His face finally cracks, but this time its because he's the one bursting into laughter now.

"Hello?" Pearl says and points at Grian’s wings. "Parrot hybrid?"

Through the tears of his laughter, Grian finally comes clean.

"Birds can't taste capsaicin."

[fkinavocado]

in which your husband and Harry’s wife dragged you both into a situation you didn’t want to be in, but as it turns out, everything happens for a reason

Loved, heard, seen- Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings 

Part One/ alternatively, read on wattpad

Part Two (word count: 3.4k)

“Hello?” Harry brought his phone to his line of vision, making sure he’d actually picked up the call, “Uhm,... hello?”

“Hi. Is this a bad time?”

Harry racked his brain to place the person’s voice, the fact that he didn’t have the number saved in his contacts made it even more difficult. It sounded awfully familiar, though… “Oh! It’s you!”

She never did give him her name. And neither did he, come to think of it. He only gave her his number before she got out of his car after he drove her home. Just in case.

“You remember?”

Harry sighed heavily. “I wish I could forget everything about that night,” he chuckled nervously. “No offence.”

“... I can't forget, either. You were right.”

“Oh?”

“Listen… would it be too… upsetting, if we met up? You’re the only person that’s been in my shoes that I feel I could open up to about this. It’s been… very lonely, eating at me… Maybe talking would help make better sense of it…”

Harry didn’t have to ponder. He’d wanted the same thing all along. He was glad she reached out to him, since he couldn’t contact her. “Name the place.”

*

Harry wondered if he looked as broken as she did but had just gotten used to seeing his miserable face stare back at him in the mirror every day. It’d been close to a month since the… circumstance that had brought the two of them together. Admittedly, he hadn’t paid close attention to her appearance back then, but, seeing her now, he definitely recognized some changes, albeit subtle. She appeared more frail, her under eyes darker, the polish on her nails chipped off, her lips chapped and bitten, her clothes wrinkled. He observed her over the cup of coffee he was sipping on on that rainy afternoon as she talked about how it’d been like trying to move on from that night.

“You were right. I did know, even then, that this was going to ruin us. But I kept lying to myself, thinking I could just pretend it never happened. Hoping that he’d gotten it out of his system and that things would go back to normal. You know I even dared to believe things would get better? I thought maybe this would put things into perspective for him and make him realize what a good thing he’s got going at home… Was I naive or what?”

Harry furrowed his brows compassionately, “You and I both. Believe it or not, I also hoped for the same. But, assuming things went for you guys the same way they did for us… it wasn’t quite the case, was it?”

She shook her head solemnly, staring into her cup of coffee. “He never asked me how things went on my side. He doesn’t even know I never went through with it. The following morning, he called me at around 11am. That’s… extremely late for him. He’s an early bird, chronically so. He’d been clearly… distracted. So when I told him I’d already taken an uber home he didn’t question it. He then came home and acted like everything was normal. He didn’t talk about it, I never asked him any questions. He didn’t care to ask me any, either… I wouldn’t say we’re pretending like nothing ever happened, because that’s not it at all. This… unspoken, huge thing that happened is always looming over us. Now whenever he’s late from work, he doesn’t even tell me why he’s late. It’s like… I know why. I don’t have to ask. He doesn’t have to tell me.”

“Jesus…”

The woman nodded, fidgeting with the corner of her paper napkin. “Things are better at your end, then?”

Harry almost laughed at her assumption, “To tell you the truth, I don’t even know which of us has it worse. When I got home after I dropped you off, I called her again and it went straight to voicemail for the hundredth time, so I texted her letting her know I went home and to call me to go get her if she didn’t feel like ubering. She never called for me to get her, thank god, but when she walked through the door and I asked her how her ride was she told me the guy had driven her. I was speechless, she’d actually disclosed where she lived, what else did she share with him? Aside from the obvious… Like, was this gonna be a thing now, between the two of them? I had so many questions, but then I couldn’t really say anything, could I? Since I offered to drive you, too. I’m fairly certain their report in that regard was much different to ours though… but even still, I couldn’t get myself to tell her off for it. I mean… he fucked her. Did the fact that he knew where she lived really make it worse?...”

Harry sat back in his chair, forcing himself to take a breather and calm down a bit. He was getting worked up. But when she encouraged him to keep going, and his restless leg wouldn’t stop bouncing beneath the table he gave in. “She was fucking beaming! She wouldn’t stop talking about what a good thing this is for us, how finally she feels like she can breathe, how she can’t believe we waited so long to try this… confirmed that she’d already made plans with this guy for the following weekend. I just froze. I couldn’t believe she was really saying all that. She never really asked me how things went for me, either. She just kept putting words in my mouth. See? Wasn’t it fun? You’re such a lucky bastard, men can only dream they could be in your shoes with their wives giving them this much freedom! Hell, even pushing them to do it! Can you imagine? You’re living the dream, baby.”

“Oh, God…”

“Then… one night soon after that she wanted to play and, brokenhearted fool that I am, I went along with it even though what I really wanted was for us to sit down and really talk about it. But I just couldn’t get myself to open up the subject, mainly because I already knew what her stance on it was and what it would lead to, and I wasn’t ready for that… kept thinking I could try doing this to save our marriage. I’d agreed to it, even though she’d coerced me into it if i’m being honest… but I did agree. I couldn’t blame her for the repercussions, I knew what I was getting into. So I felt like I had to see it through, had to try and make it work… 

“So when she came to me all loving, and I missed her so much, I gave in, I needed to feel like us again… Make her forget about anyone else. Make her only want me. And then… in the midst of what I thought was one of my best sexual performances… she tells me she wants to try something this guy had asked her to do to him and I–... fucking lost it. I jumped out of that bed as if it were on fire. I’m sure I could’ve handled it more maturely but I locked myself in the bathroom before I said something I would regret. She kept pleading from the other side to open up and talk to her, tell her what was the matter. I realized all I had to say to her were hurtful things. I chickened out when I opened the door and saw how genuinely worried she was. She literally has no clue what I’ve been going through since that night… in her head, we’re heading in the right direction and this is only going to bring us closer. 

“So, I asked her not to tell me about any of it, going further, and promised I’d do the same. That I couldn’t handle talking about it. At least not for a while… She agreed, said she totally gets it. And then we went back to bed and I never got to see what that son of a bitch asked her to do to him because ever since, I’ve avoided all her advances. She keeps making little quips such as uh-oh, running out of stamina huh? Save some for me next time. Then she giggles and asks me to just spoon her instead and I just sit there for hours on end mulling everything over while she’s sleeping soundly in my arms.”

The woman sat silent for a long while, visibly saddened. “Jack never initiates sex anymore. Like… at all. I don’t know If I’m glad for it or if I should feel even more hurt. I’m not sure I feel anything at all anymore. I feel… numb.”

“... Me too.”

After a long pause Harry added, muttering, “Fitting name, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Since he’s such a jackass.”

The woman laughed, which made Harry smile in return. He wondered whether this was the first time the two of them had done so since that night. 

“You must have a really nice name, then.”

Harry’s smile lingered. “In that case, I’m sure the same goes for you.”

“You first.”

“It’s Harry.”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah. See? Nice names for nice folk. Wouldn’t hear of people with such names going around causing so much heartache, would you?”

“Absolutely not. Felicity is also… fitting in a way. Only cares about her own happiness.”

Harry gave her a look. “You actually remember my wife’s name?”

“Yeah, it’s a rare name, stuck with me.”

“True. And you’re right about her. I’ve always known it… But nobody’s perfect. Thought I could compromise on some stuff. Didn’t realize it would compromise our marriage in the end.”

“That’s… pretty huge, Harry. I know it sounds awful, but hearing you say so valides my own feelings. Like, I worried I was overreacting, thinking my marriage is over because of this. But that’s just how I feel. I can’t see us ever recovering from this mess.”

“Neither can I. It’s killing me on the inside the longer I go along with it. And even if I do speak up about it… I know it’ll never go back to how things were, which admittedly, weren’t great to begin with. This whole thing kinda helped put everything into perspective. She was right, we did need something else, be both did… I was willing to do whatever to please her, but that’s not exactly feasible in the long run. It was just a matter of time before we faced some hurdles. We’re just not on the same page sexually. I was just fooling myself thinking I could deny my own needs and that she could suppress hers.”

“So… what now?”

They both sat in silence for a long while, the coffee had gone cold and the rain outside was pouring even stronger than before.

“It’s inevitable. We have to talk to them.”

“...End it?”

Harry nodded solemnly and when her eyes immediately glazed over and she stifled a sob, he reached his hand out to cover hers reassuringly. He moved to sit on the chair next to hers and eventually wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, bringing her in to rest her head on his own. She tried to keep quiet, not to disturb the cafe’s patrons, and he gently shushed her reassuringly, telling her everything was going to be alright. Willing himself to believe it, too.

*

Almost two weeks had passed when Harry finally decided to text Y/N. He’d been apprehensive about it, knowing she must’ve been hurting, but also, he felt guilty for not going through with what he himself had suggested was inevitable. He hadn’t broken things off with his wife. Worse, he’d actually had sex with her, in an effort to still try and save their marriage. He couldn’t finish though, and he’d never reached full mast. Which prompted her to not get off either. It’d been a mess and it ended in Harry crying in the bathroom afterwards while she probably thought he was finishing himself off in the shower. He’d never felt more miserable in his entire life.

Felicity was away for the weekend with her new boy-toy and Harry was feeling seriously on edge. He contemplated just packing his bags and leaving. It was cowardly of him, to be sure, but he felt like he’d never go through with it and actually leave her otherwise. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to her and end things properly, like a man. 

He felt emasculated in every way possible.

H: Hey. It’s Harry. Been meaning to reach out, hope it’s not a bad time… How did things go?

He was in their walk-in closet staring at his clothes and trying to work up his courage to just grab them off the hangers and toss them into the biggest suitcase he could find when she replied.

Y/N: Hey, Harry. I’m the worst… I couldn’t bring myself to do it : ( I don’t know what to do. I can’t do this anymore…

H: Don’t feel bad. I couldn’t go through with it either. But I can’t go on like this…

Y/N: What do we do : (

H: She’s with him right now. 

Y/N: He’s not been home most nights. It’s over without having to even talk about it. I bet if he came back home and I was gone he’d be relieved at this point.

Harry read Y/N’s last text message before deciding to call her since they were both alone anyway. “That’s exactly what I wanna do. Just pack my stuff and be gone before she comes back. Is that… too cowardly, do you think?”

“It’s not. They don’t deserve an explanation. It’s impossible they don’t see we’re hurting. They just choose to ignore it.”

“Let’s just leave.”

“Harry… if you say that again, I just might do it. Like, right now.”

“Let’s rip the band-aid. Let’s do it. I mean it, Y/N. We can do it. We could do it together. Just… I dunno. Go somewhere and turn our phones off and be there for one another, make sure neither of us caves in and goes back… What do you say?” Harry was pumped. He could feel adrenaline surging through him. The thought of actually doing it made him giddy beyond belief. 

Y/N was silent for a long while, all he could hear was his own laboured breathing. But eventually she replied, sounding resolute. “Give me half an hour. We’re doing this, Harry.”

*

Harry had never felt more alive. It was odd, but it was true. He finally felt like he was doing something for himself, in a long, long time. He’d packed his shit in record time, leaving him just enough to drive to Y/N’s. When she didn’t pick up her phone immediately, he felt his heart sink to his stomach. Had she changed her mind? He felt he couldn’t do this without her. But when she eventually picked up with laboured breath, she informed him she was dragging her suitcases to the elevator and couldn’t find her phone in all that rushed chaos. 

Harry wouldn’t take no for an answer, and insisted he’d help her. When she buzzed him in and he reached her floor, he was mildly shocked at the amount of suitcases she’d lined up near the elevator door. He’d only packed his essentials, but Y/N meant business. It looked like she’d packed up her whole life in those bags.

“Oh wow. Ok, alright. Gotta give it to you, you’re a fast packer, considering.”

Y/N smiled at his amused tone, despite her nerves. “I dunno when he’s coming back. Had to be quick. And I knew your SUV could handle all of these.”

“How do you know it’s not already filled up to the brim with my own shit?”

She rolled her eyes when he started loading them up in the elevator, urging her inside to keep the doors open. “Please. You’re a man. I’ll be surprised if you filled two suitcases.”

Harry feigned offence. “It’s three suitcases, alright? Well, two suitcases and a backpack. And I didn’t pack everything. It’s my house, after all.”

Y/N was silent, her smile fading somewhat. “Well, this apartment is his. So…”

Harry kicked himself for opening up that can of worms but the haste in which they loaded her stuff into his truck kept them busy and hopefully took her mind off things for a bit.

When they drove off, for a long time they didn’t even talk about where they’d be going. Harry just drove aimlessly, only making sure they left town on the nearest exit. They couldn’t even use Google Maps as they’d shut their phones off and threw them into the glove compartment in complicity.

They eventually discussed some options. It couldn’t be any of the places they’d been with with their spouses. Not that either of them thought they’d be coming looking for them, but regardless.

Eventually, after driving for a few hours while keeping themselves busy singing along with whatever came on the radio to keep themselves distracted, they decided to just crash at the first decent motel they’d find on their way. It was getting too late to drive safely any further.

They were both giddy at the prospect of crashing at some random motel like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde, still high on the adrenaline rush.

Soon they found themselves in a shabby motel room under a false mr and mrs name. They’d already slept in the same bed before and so the options of getting separate rooms or twin beds weren’t even brought up. They trusted eachother beyond formalities, and besides, the pact was that they would go through this together.

They took turns showering and Y/N called for him from the bathroom when she was finished with hers. “Harry? Ugh, I brought the wrong bag with us…”

“Want me to go get it for you?”

“I mean… I just need something to change into. Do you have some extra pyjamas?”

“Uhm…” Harry didn’t have to check, he knew he’d not packed any extra in his backpack he took with him to the room. “I can give you mine but I’ll have to sleep in a t-shirt. And boxers, of course.”

“Would you mind terribly?”

“Not at all. Just… you know. Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, that’s why I clarified…”

“Oh, shush. Can I have them?” She cracked the door open and stuck her hand out. “Oh, also, no knickers. I’ll be sure to wash them for you afterwards.”

Harry faltered mid-undressing, but then rushed to hand her his discarded pyjamas. “Don’t be silly.”

He threw a t-shirt on and got under the covers. Surely she’d seen men in boxers before, he was acting a bit childish. But he really meant it when he told her he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable in any way.

She emerged from the bathroom, all swaddled up in the too-large pyjamas and smiled sheepishly at him, then turned the lights off and joined him on the other side of the bed.

Harry flinched when he thought he’d heard her say something. Had he already drifted off to sleep? That was… definitely surprising. He’d had trouble sleeping ever since– “Did you say something?” He whispered, just in case he’d been mistaken.

“Sorry,” she whispered back, “did I wake you? I didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep. Do you always sleep on your back?”

“... Was I snoring?”

Y/N giggled. He smiled into the darkness at the sound. Everything felt so lighthearted and easy with her around, no wonder he’d fallen asleep. “No. But are you a snorer? Because if so, I might have to reconsider this whole arrangement…”

“Oh, shush.” He playfully kicked her leg under the covers, noticing she was closer than he’d gauged. “I think all that driving got to me, plus the adrenaline crush. What did you wanna say?”

“I just wanted to thank you… I don’t think I would’ve gone through with this without you, Harry.”

Harry smiled into the darkness again. He couldn’t see her, but her words really warmed him up. “Same here. Just don’t wake me up at 4am telling me you wanna uber back home, ok?”

She giggled again. “Hell no. You’re stuck with me.”

“...Good.”

Part Three

A/N: soooo. it's gonna be 3 parts, after all 😅😅 thanks to the lovely @freedomfireflies for beta-ing ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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[cryptotheism]

"What if you were hiking in the woods- Have you ever been hiking? Not like you stayed at a cabin in the mountains for the weekend, like you were staying out in the country, and you wandered out past your backyard. What if you were hiking, and you came across a labyrinth. You know, like a big maze. It's just you in the woods and this huge stone structure covered in vines and grass, and there's the entrance.

You gotta peek inside right? You gotta. You gotta look. Its huge. The walls are tall, and open to the sky, and there's plenty of light so you're not gonna get stuck in a cave-in. But you're not stupid, you were hiking so you brought some rope. So you tie one end to a tree outside the entrance and you go inside to see what you can find.

Its beautiful inside. Nothing crazy happens, there's no special energy in the air or monster or whatever, its just a beautiful place. Its warm and the birds are chirping and maybe some flowers are blooming. There's just this sense of wonder, you know, this powerful sense of wonder. But eventually you run out of rope, and you realize that this thing goes on way further than you thought it did.

So you head home, right? You head home and maybe you look up the name of your town and labyrinth on the internet. And there's nothing. There's nothing! There's like, sci-fi or fantasy stories, or weird pages about aliens or ghosts or whatever. But right before you're about to give up, you find like, an old message board or a deleted reddit comment about finding a weird labyrinth in the woods behind their house. So you read a bit more, and you realize that this dude is actually German, or Indian, or Kenyan or something. He's not talking about your labyrinth, but he might as well be.

So you message him, right? You're like 'hey! I found a maze thing just like yours, whats up with this?' and after a bit he responds like 'Dude, I don't know what's up with this fuckin' labyrinth. I don't know why people aren't talking about the labyrinths. But there's some old books about them, and there's like, a community of people who have found these things.

So you become a labyrinth guy. You start talking to other labyrinth guys. You learn about how they navigated theirs, how they discovered their labyrinths, and you exchange tips about how to navigate the labyrinths and speculate on why the damn things are even there to begin with. You learn that some of the other labyrinth guys are weirdos. Like, real freaks. Like nazis and stuff. But you're not an idiot, you know not to talk to those guys, but you also know to keep an eye on them.

You find a handful of dudes who you get along with. They've read a lot of the old books, and you all kinda vibe with each others theories on the labyrinths. And you get good at navigating the labyrinth. Like, really good at navigating the labyrinth. You're starting to map yours, getting a sense for how its designed. But there's people who are way better at it than you, like WAY better. There's people who have whole theories on what the design of their labyrinth suggests about the designers, and they have all these theories on the authors of the old books and their opinions on the labyrinths.

And then you like, you catch something. Its subtle, like, the sort of thing you wouldn't notice unless you spend all this time being a labyrinth guy. A few people have been talking about there being like, more layers. People say there's like, steps. Like, stairs that lead down or up or somewhere else. At first you were like 'this just sounds like more alien shit from the weirdo Nazis but there's a few people who have solid theories on there being entrances to something else that only happens in specific places in every maze. And it checks out, it really does check out, but in a way that you'd only notice if you were already a labyrinth guy.

And at this point, you know your labyrinth, you know it like the back of your hand. Like, you dream about your labyrinth and you know exactly where you are inside it. So you go. Like, you go to check it out. You do the math and check your maps and you spend a day walking around in the labyrinth. You find the place it should be, and you clear away some leaves and dirt and. Yeah. Sonofabitch is there.

But its not steps. Its not a spiral staircase or some kinda magic lift. Its a well. An old stone well. And its dark. It's really dark. You can tell it goes somewhere, but you can't tell where. But its there. It's there. That's what it's like."

"What's in the well?"

"I don't know. I haven't gone down the well yet."

[suzukiblu]

Tim’s my blorbo so I’ll always take more Tim content

Apparently Cadmus knew Experiment Thirteen was the one to invest in because Experiment Thirteen had a soulmark.

Apparently Cadmus also considered terminating Experiment Thirteen because Experiment Thirteen had a soulmark.

Tim knows this because he broke into the place and stole a copy of Superboy's file the day after they met.

He also knows what Superboy's soulmark looks like, because these absolute bastards not only took multiple pictures of it, they put those pictures in his fucking file. Not even, like, classified or tucked away behind a firewall or a password or anything. Not even in a seperate folder. Just right there in his standard file where literally any random scientist or doctor or goddamn intern could trip right over them without even meaning to.

Forget the fucking mind control; that's fucked up.

So yeah. Tim knows what Superboy's soulmark looks like. It's a stark, dark red, all sharp angles slung low in the V of his Adonis belt and cutting from one hip to the other, looking not unlike a stylized bird in flight coming at the viewer head-on. Bold. Undeniable. Very much like Superboy himself, really.

And exactly like the mark that came in on Tim when, he now knows, Superboy was first put together in a fucking petri dish. So that's . . . a whole thing, there.

Well. At least his soulmate is only literally fifteen years younger than him, not physically and mentally.

Although that doesn't really seem like a big improvement, to be honest.

Tim didn't even know he was into guys, actually? Definitely didn't know Superboy was into guys, all things considered. Like, he would not expect somebody like him to ever be subtle about who or what he was into.

Maybe they're platonics, Tim tries to tell himself. The fact that his first thought upon learning that Superboy was his soulmate was immediately questioning his own sexuality doesn't really support that theory, though.

Though it does help explain why Poison Ivy putting her hands on the guy had pissed him off so bad.

Like. It very much does.

Tim doesn't actually know what to do about this. Bruce still thinks he doesn't even have a soulmate, due to Tim previously really, really not wanting to deal with the absolute embarrassment of admitting that said soulmate was an actual fucking baby, so Tim never got the Bat-version of the soulmate talk. Bruce'd sat him down to give it to him when he'd first become Robin, but Tim hadn't had a mark then, obviously, so they'd both just assumed he didn't have to worry about it. Tim is pretty sure Bruce had been as relieved as he had to dodge that particular bullet, really. Apparently Dick had needed visual aids and hadn't understood the "gilly talk" version. And Jason had had questions.

Lots of questions.

Creative ones.

Sometimes Tim suspects Jason might've been an asshole. Like, just a little bit of one.

So no, Tim does not blame Bruce for deciding to skip that particular talk with him, especially when they'd both thought he wasn't gonna need to know any of it anyway.

So . . . yeah. He doesn't know how he's supposed to approach this situation. Obviously telling Superboy that they're soulmates would compromise Tim's secret identity and therefore Bruce's, and everybody and their damn mother knows Superboy himself doesn't even have a secret identity so it's not like Tim can figure that out and approach him that way.

On the other hand, not telling him that they're soulmates isn't a great start to being soulmates, now is it.

Crap, Tim thinks.

Then he calls Dick, because if he has to sit through the Bat-version of the soulmate talk, at least maybe Dick will be slightly less embarrassing to hear it from.

As long as there's no visual aids involved, anyway.

"Hey, Tim," Dick greets as he picks up the phone. Tim has a carefully crafted plan of attack, of course; several, in fact. He's got all sorts of subtle ways to lead the conversation without revealing anything too damning or too specific and while keeping everything in hypotheticals. Just making the whole thing either a quick thought exercise or casual curiosity from an unmarked kid who's heard one too many soulmate stories and wants to know more. So Tim's prepared. Tim's ready.

Tim panics.

"Poison Ivy kissed my soulmate and I want to burn down her entire life," he blurts.

"Uh," Dick says. "You're . . . gonna have to catch me up a little here, baby bird. For starters, I thought you didn't have a soulmate."

"I didn't," Tim says as he starts to pace back and forth across his bedroom, because he's already screwed this up so there's no point in playing coy now. "Then some dickheads in Metropolis decided to steal Superman's dead body and make a cocky asshole with douchey shades and a leather fetish out of it."

"Ohhhhh boy," Dick says. "What'd B say?"

"I found out like half an hour ago and you're the only person I've told, so nothing yet," Tim says. "What's the Bat-protocol for finding out your soulmate is somebody in the community, exactly? Specifically somebody in douchey shades?"

"Depends," Dick says. "How'd the kid react?"

". . . I don't know how to say this without sounding like a total creep, but he doesn't know," Tim admits with a wince. "I broke into Cadmus to make a copy of his file after I met him and they just . . . had his soulmark in it. Like. There wasn't even a password. It wasn't even in an isolated folder. It was just there."

"That is the most fucked up thing I've heard since the last time I had to talk to Jervis Tetch," Dick mutters in obvious disgust. "Alright, well, how are you reacting, then?"

"My soulmate is a baby," Tim grumbles disgruntledly, dropping into his desk chair. "A baby who is also a teenager."

"Tim, you're a teenager too," Dick reminds him wryly. "You are very much so a teenager too, in fact."

"Yeah, and it sucks," Tim says emphatically. "And I have, like, actual legal guardians and a home and a trust fund. Superboy just lives somewhere in Hawaii with a sleazy businessman and his kid and some random guy from Cadmus!"

"That's, uh, actually not great," Dick says, sounding a little troubled.

"You think?!" Tim demands. "He's a baby! An infant! And he lives with his frigging manager!"

"What the actual hell," Dick says.

"Just–is it ethical to kidnap your own soulmate and does that even matter if they're not legally a person and so you couldn't actually be charged for anything anyway?" Tim mutters speculatively, drumming his fingers on his desk for a moment and then booting up his computer. "I mean, B can't get mad at me for doing it if the courts can't get me for doing it, right?"

"Wait, Superboy's not legally a person?" Dick asks incredulously.

"Nope," Tim says. "Which neither Cadmus nor the sleazebag selling his likeness for a living has in any way tried to correct, for the record. Technically he's classified as intellectual property, but Cadmus forfeited legal possession when Superman turned up alive again, presumably to avoid Superman ever finding out that they'd had said legal possession, so technically if I went and kidnapped him it'd be more like . . . salvage, maybe? Like, in the eyes of the law, I mean."

"Yeah, okay, in that case kidnapping your own soulmate might be less an ethics question and more a moral obligation," Dick says.

"Good point," Tim says, frowning consideringly as he pulls up his browser. "Do you think if I just do it as Tim Drake I can avoid compromising my identity?"

"I have no idea but if I were you I'd already be booking my flight and thinking up a cheap excuse to 'accidentally' flash a teen heartthrob superhero my soulmark anyway," Dick says.

"I am already booking my flight," Tim says mid-click of said booking. "Although, uh, flashing him our particular soulmark might require, like . . . third base, and I don't even know if he likes guys. I don't even know if he knows if he likes guys, he's like five minutes out of the cloning tube and like, I'm literally fifteen and don't know if I like guys, so why the hell would he?"

"Okay, yeah, that could be an issue," Dick says. "Hm. Wardrobe malfunction? Slutty beach day? Wet T-shirt contest?"

"I'm not above any of those options at this point, frankly," Tim grumbles, even though those ideas are all very "Nightwing" and not very "Robin". Technically he shouldn't be approaching this like Robin would anyway, because god forbid Superboy recognize his methodology.

Slutty beach day might have to be a thing, Tim realizes with resigned dread. He is really not comfortable with slutty beach day being a thing.

. . . maybe if he just gets lucky, he can catch Superboy having his own slutty beach day. Not to make any assumptions, just Tim's pretty sure if either of them were ever going to be the type to wear a speedo or low-waisted swim trunks or just walk around with their soulmark out in general . . .

Which, in Superboy's defense, well–his soulmark is already on file with Cadmus, so yeah. He might not even care if other people see it or not, considering that.

Then again, if Tim knew that a bunch of random strangers who'd wanted to mind-control him had all seen and taken pictures of his soulmark, he'd never wear anything that risked exposing it again. Like. Ever.

Possibly he'd just live and die in a wetsuit. Or coveralls. Overalls. Or just–whatever. Something like that.

. . . come to think of it, Superboy's costume is all one piece, isn't it.

Cadmus is full of assholes, Tim decides as he confirms his booking, then gets up to throw together a go-bag. He has no plan whatsoever, but whatever; it's a twelve-hour flight. He's gonna have time to think something up.

One go-through with airport security and a twelve-hour flight later, Tim has not thought anything up.

Dammit.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Javier Peña

pedro pascal has me in a chokehold and i'm not gonna apologize for it. take this smut. also, this is basically just a self insert cause i couldn't help myself

Summary: All alone at a bar after being stood up by a blind date, you catch Javier's lustful eye.

Warnings: self insert basically (I'm half Mexican so...yeah, I made reader Mexican too. sue me), alcohol and drug consumption, dancing and leaving no room for Jesus (grinding), SMUT (MINORS DNI), one night stand, fingering, oral (m!receiving), spanking, kinda mean dom!Javi

word count | 4.3k🤙🏻

You didn’t think your night could get any worse.

First, you get all dolled up just to be stood up by your date, then the friend you came to the club with abandoned you to hook up with some random guy. You hoped you’d at least meet someone here to soothe your bruised ego, but there weren’t any takers or anyone that met your standards. Yeah, tonight seemed like it would be a bust.

Unbeknownst to you, across the bar, Javier Peña couldn’t keep his eyes off you. After a rough day on the job, his partner encouraged him to come to this club to blow off some steam. He was content just hanging out with Murphy, until he saw you. The expression on your face is what caught his eye first, the way you had a permanent frown and look of disappointment. He instantly knew you must’ve gotten stood up, or broken up with. Why would anyone stand up someone as gorgeous as you? He’d never know. He really thought you were. Gorgeous. The way your eyes sparkled in the club lights, the way your lips wrapped around the rim of your margarita glass, leaving a subtle red stain with your lipgloss. Of course, he couldn’t help but notice your attire; a dress just above knee length lined with lace, hugging the form of your torso but flowing around your hips. He followed the curve of your ass down your legs until he got to your freshly pedicured feet that sported wedges that matched the dress. He hated knowing that you must’ve gotten dressed up for nothing.

You were such a stunner, Javier didn’t even register Steve was even talking to him. “Sorry, what?” He tried speaking over the music blaring over the speakers.

Steve only laughed, shaking his head as he took a swig of his beer. “You’ve been eyeing that bird ever since we got here. Just go talk to her, man.”

Javier shook his head, turning back around to face his partner. “Nah, I came here with you. It’s fine.”

Steve gave him an unimpressed look, totally not believing him. “You’re so full of shit. Right now, I know the last thing you wanna be doing is spending time with little ol’ me when you could be chatting up a beautiful woman. I’m alright, thinking about heading home to my woman actually.” He finished his drink and started to get up before Javier could even respond. “Enjoy yourself, you’ve earned it after the day we’ve had. See ya on Monday.” 

“But, I-” Javi’s voice trailed out the farther Steve walked away, leaving him alone and slightly buzzed. He looked back over at you, somehow looking even more pitiful and on the verge of completely giving up on fun. He sighed heavily before chugging the rest of his beer. “Fuck it.”

You didn’t hear the approaching footsteps over the music, getting startled out of your thoughts when you heard a voice from beside you. “Te ves como si te estuvieras divirtiendo.” The man beside you said, his voice straining a little so you could be able to hear him. At first glance, you thought about leaving right away, but once you got another look, this man was actually pretty attractive. He was tall, gruff looking, but his smile was sweet.

You smiled apologetically. “Lo siento, no hablo español.” You cursed yourself for never learning Spanish.

“Oh, no problem. I’m originally from the States, so. You’re not Colombian?”

“Mexican, actually.”

“Ah, muy bien.”

You giggled, taking a sip of your margarita to calm your nerves in front of this very handsome man. “Spent my whole life around Hispanics and never seemed to pick it up. My father is very disappointed in me.” His laugh made a blush bloom across your cheeks, but thankfully the lights in the club were dim enough to make sure he couldn’t notice.

“What are you doing in Colombia?”

“Holiday, invited by a friend.”

“And what brings you to this club tonight? Got a hot date?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

You huffed. “Well, I was supposed to meet someone here, but he was a no show. I came here with my friend too, but said friend has ditched me tonight.”

His eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “They left you after you got stood up?”

“Oh, no, she wouldn’t do that. I told her she could, but that was before I was ghosted. She’s probably back at our hotel getting dicked down right now. So, I figured I’d stay here a while to give her some privacy or snag someone here for myself.”

“Any takers?” Javier already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

You sighed with a sad smile. “Nope. I’m completely alone here.”

He leaned in closer to you, resting his forearms on the bar stand. “Well, not anymore. Can I buy you a drink?”

You smirked. “I don’t even know your name.”

He reached out his hand. “Javier Peña.” You closed the gap, taking his course, warm hand in yours. He grinned as you told him your name, as if you just told him the secret of life. “Bonita. Two whiskeys, por favor.” He spoke to the bartender. Oh, this guy was good.

“You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” You giggled.

He shrugged. “Have to be in my line of work. Plus, if I wasn’t, I’d never get laid.” You almost spat out your drink. Well, bold was an understatement.

“And what line of work would that be?”

Javier seemed to hesitate at that, scrunching his face in a frown for a brief second. “DEA Agent.” You nodded in acknowledgement, your expression plain so he couldn’t guess what your stance was. You weren’t running away immediately, so that was a good sign.

Throughout the next hour or so, you both talked each other’s heads off. Each of you telling each other about your work, hobbies, likes and dislikes, even some political stances (the alcohol may have loosen your tongues).

Then, your eyes lit up as a popular Spanish song sounded through the speakers. “Oh my god, I love this song!” You beamed, your body instantly swaying to the beat in your chair.

Javier smiled, stepping away from the bar and extending his hand. “Dance with me?”

“You’re just gonna assume I know how to dance?”

“You’re Mexican, aren’t you?”

“Half.” You chuckled nervously.

He shrugged, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the stool you were sitting on. “You’ll be able to keep up. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Promise.” He purred, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. Oh, he was trouble.

You let out a surprised squeal as Javier spinned you around with his hand before getting into the dance. The song was more fast paced, so you both settled on a messy salsa. Javier led you well, laughing off whenever you accidentally stomped on his foot. You had taken a salsa class before, so you weren’t too terrible. But you could tell Javier could’ve looked much better with a more experienced partner. But he didn’t choose someone else, he chose you. “See? You’re not that bad!” He shouted over the music, causing you to grin.

“Well, you’re an excellent dance partner.”

As the energy died down and a slower song came on, you and Javier stepped closer together, wrapping each other’s arm around the other as you started to sway to the music. Your heart thumped in your chest as he looked down on you with those dark, mysterious eyes. He didn’t even try to hide every glance down to your lips or your chest that was pressed up against his. Taking a look around, all the other couples on the dance floor were in similar positions, most making out which caused a blush to form on your cheeks. Javi seemed to notice as he smirked, stepping back to twirl you around, pulling your back against his chest, still keeping up with the beat.

“And what about this song? Is this another favorite?” He spoke against your ear, eliciting a shiver down your spine as you felt his breath fan across your skin.

You shook your head. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“Oh, it’s a great song. It’s about getting to know a woman’s body for the first time.” Your eyes widened. “What she likes, how she likes to be touched, learning if she likes it slow…or rough.” You silently gasped as Javi gripped your hips tightly, pulling your ass against his pelvis, bringing one hand to press against your lower stomach. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the music or maybe it was just you, but you subtly smirked as you grinded back against him, a soft groan escaping from his lips as he tightened his hold against you.

“That does sound like a great song. I bet you know all about that, hm?”

“I am a fast learner.” He growled, running his tongue up the side of your neck, instinctively allowing your head to loll back to rest against his shoulder. You bit your bottom lip to keep in a moan that threatened to escape as his teeth dug in gently. You smiled as you felt Javier’s bulge against your ass, the music allowing you to grind against him without raising any brows. 

“Should I guess what you like?”

He hummed. “If you come back to my apartment with me, you won’t have to.”

You turned back to face him, a bright smile on your face. “Will you be gentle?”

He smirked darkly. “I don’t think that’s what you want, querida.”

The both of you didn’t waste any more time in that dance club. You felt your arousal pool in your underwear as Javier all but dragged you outside to slam you against his car, his lips already brushing against every piece of exposed skin he could find before kissing you roughly, his mustache tickling. You moaned at the intensity of it, not having been laid in a long, long time. But you couldn't get too ahead of yourself, you weren’t at his apartment and you were still in public, but by how handsy Javier was being, you figured it didn’t bother him. “Are we going to your place or should I just take off my panties right now?” You giggled as you gently pushed him away, keeping him at arm's length.

“Sorry. I don’t normally take my time…” He whispered breathlessly, placing a feather light kiss on your cheek.

You smirked. “I have some weed if that’ll make you relax.”

Javier narrowed his eyes and pinched your side playfully, making you wince. “You know, I could arrest you for that.”

“Yeah. But from the hard on that pressing against me right now, you really want to get in my pants. Can’t fuck me when I’m in a jail cell.”

“I can be creative.” You let out a whimper as he smacked your ass hard, groping the fatty flesh through your dress before reaching behind you to open the passenger side door of his truck. “Get in.”

You chuckled at his demanding tone, clearly worked up, but you didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore so you obeyed. You almost flinched as he slammed the door shut, speed walking to the other side of the car and starting the engine as soon as he got in. On the road, Javier extended his hand towards you, palm facing it. You raised a brow in confusion. “The drugs.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Seriously? It was a joke. I don’t have any weed.”

Javier looked you up and down with a glance before a smirk came to his face. “So you wouldn't mind if I search you?”

“Where would I ever hide it? My bra? My cunt?”

“Scared I’ll find some?”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling, shifting in your seat to slightly face him, leaning up against the door as you removed your underwear but keeping your dress covering your modesty. “I’ve got nothing to hide, sir.”

Javier’s eyes darkened as he glanced between you and the road. There wasn’t much traffic, so he figured he could get away with it. He reached his hand over and patted your torso down, reaching further and further until he got to your breasts, kneading the flesh softly until his fingers dipped in past your dress and bra. You sighed out as he roamed your tits, pinching your nipples until they hardened. “All clear?” You teased, squeezing your thighs together to get some friction.

“Not yet. I have one more place to check.” You tried not to shiver as his hand trailed down your body, lifting the hem of your dress out of the way and pushing your legs apart to lay his eyes on your glistening pussy. You could hear a soft growl from him as he slid one of his fingers through your slit, your wetness gathering at your entrance quickly. “Been a while, has it?” You gasped as his middle finger started to press against your clit, heat rushing to your face and neck, contrasting against the cold window your head rested against.

“A bit, yeah.” You exhaled shakily.

Stopping at a red light, Javier’s eyes were fixed on your face as he inserted two of his fingers inside you, watching the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head briefly as your lips parted in a moan. He groaned, curling his fingers rhythmically and trying to stretch you out preemptively. “So fuckin’ tight, babygirl. Squeezing my fingers so hard.” Well, it was hard not to when his fingers were so thick and long. He definitely was an expert in this field, finding that place inside you that always had you panting and whining, which is exactly what you were doing as he paired the thrusts of his fingers with his thumb circling your clit.

“Fuck, that feels so good Javier.” You moaned, holding on to the dash for dear life as you tried not to squirm too much.

“Call me Javi.” A sudden honk of a horn jerked you and Javier out of the moment, the spotlight turned red minutes ago, causing the car behind to lose their patience. You giggled as he cursed in Spanish as he sped off, faster than before, anxious to feel all of you. With his fingers still inside you, Javi hastily parked his vehicle on the street outside his apartment, ripping off his seatbelt to lean over to kiss you sloppily. “You were close before, weren’t you?”

You nodded with a whine, the windows starting to fog with your panting breaths. You held onto his shoulder as he forced you to that peak once more, just the right move to push you over the edge. “Javi, fuck-!” You whimpered, the wet squelching of his fingers moving in and out of you echoing in the truck.

“So wet.” He chuckled darkly. “Gonna come on my fingers, querida?”

“Yes. Yes, Javi!” You moaned loudly, heat taking over your whole body as you rode out that wave of ecstasy on his fingers. Javier groaned as he watched your face contort in pleasure, it almost making him come in his jeans untouched. He grinned as he watched your slick coat his fingers and pool into his palm, pulling his hand away to see your cunt make stringy cobwebs of cum. “All clear on those drugs, agent Peña?” You joked when you noticed his oblivious fixation.

He chuckled softly. “I don’t know. I think you’ll need to join me in my apartment for a further evaluation.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Your hands shook as Javier led you up the stairs to his apartment with heavy and hot gazes towards you, almost to make sure you were following him. Like you’d ever want to leave with the promise of getting laid. He seemed to be antsy like you, fumbling with his keys and having to take a deep breath before unlocking his door. But once you stepped over the threshold, all possible nerves promptly left his body as he pinned you to his wall and kissed you passionately. You whined as his hands wandered until they gripped onto your ass, grinding his clothed erection against you.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you, hermosa.” He growled before latching onto the crook of your neck with his teeth.

“Then don’t.” You whispered shakily, palming his bulge which elicited a low, deep groan from him, the noise causing a pang of arousal to resonate through your entire body. You wanted to hear more, but Javi grabbed your wrist.

“So eager, babygirl. Want me to make you come again that badly?” He chuckled mockingly when you nodded. He led you to his bedroom, sitting you down on the edge of his bed with his lips latched onto yours. “Wanna feel those pretty lips around my cock.” He hummed as he unbuttoned his jeans. Your eyes widened and mouth watered as Javier took his cock out, thick and long. Obviously his jeans had hidden its actual size, you didn’t know if you’d be able to fit it inside. “Think you’ll be able to take it?”

“I’ve just never had someone as big as you, Javi.” That seemed to make him smirk with pride.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll go easy on you. First, at least.” Javier gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, suddenly feeling intimidated by his domineering stature; but it only turned you on even more. “You wanna suck my cock, princess?” You smiled in reply, licking your lips and leaning forwards to lick up the small bead of precum gathered on his slit, the action making him hiss softly. Making sure to keep eye contact with him, you licked the underside of his cock from base to tip, wrapping your lips around the head and suckling on it gently. “Oh, you’re a tease, huh?” You yelped as Javi grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled harshly, taking advantage of your surprise and shoving his cock in your mouth. You instantly tried to relax, sucking on him until he let out a lovely moan. “That’s it. That’s it…good girl.”

His praises and moans went straight to your core, making you even needier than before. He sounded so pretty. Even if your jaw started to ache, you wanted to keep hearing his breathless noises of pleasure. You made a pretty picture, Javier thought. Your lips and tongue around his cock, looking up at him with tears spilling out the sides of your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, your moans of exertion causing a delightful vibration. He wouldn’t last much longer like this. He needed to fuck you. Now.

You gasped as Javier pulled you off his dick, kissing you roughly before removing his shirt, your lips upturning in a smile as you admired his body. “Clothes off and lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.” He ordered, and you had no problem obeying, might’ve even been a bit too eager, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your face flushed with heat as his gaze fixed on your breasts, licking his lips and smirking. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous, baby.” You giggled as he pounced on you, sloppily kissing you while positioning himself in between your legs.

You bit your lip as Javier rubbed his dick in between your slick folds, gasping as the head nudged your clit. “Want you inside me so bad, Javi.” You whispered, one hand cupping the side of his face and the other bracing yourself on his shoulder as he started to slowly push in. Your head fell back to the pillow beneath you with your mouth open in a moan, Javi fully sheathing himself inside your velvety walls.

“Fuck, babygirl.” Javier groaned, his brows furrowed, trying to restrain himself from plowing into you right away. He had a vice grip on your hip, while his other hand was groping your tit. “You feel so good.”

“Fuck me harder, Javi, please.” You whined, canting your hips upwards to try and get more friction, but he roughly pinned you down with his hands.

“Ain’t gonna last long if I do that.”

“I don’t care. Please.” You begged, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. Javier growled as he pulled out of you, flipping you over on your front, head down and ass up, pushing himself back in your pussy harshly, setting a cruel pace. “Fuck!” You groaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in a pleasured haze. He fucked you hard and slow, each thrust making you jerk and cry out every time he hit the ends of you, a loud slapping skin against skin noise echoing through his entire apartment. You’d be surprised if his neighbors didn’t come banging on his door telling you to keep it down.

“You like this better, slut?” He mocked before letting out moans of his own, the new position one of his favorites, that much you could tell.

“Yes. God, yes, Javi!” You started to prop yourself up on your elbows, but Javi pushed you back down, keeping your face pressed against the pillow.

“Keep your fuckin’ head down.” He demanded, grunting loudly with every thrust. “Anything else you wanna complain about, sweetheart?”

“Can you…can you spank me, please?” You couldn’t see him from your position, but he grinned, followed by a couple hard slaps to both your ass cheeks, making you moan in appreciation. You could tell he enjoyed spanking you, since he did it often, your skin throbbing and raw but it felt so good. His grip on your hip he used as leverage started to turn painful as opposed to the pressure it previously felt, just knowing you’d have plenty of marks afterwards, and you couldn’t wait to see the masterpiece of bruises he left on your skin in the morning.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re making it real difficult to keep it together. I don’t think I’ll be able to last much longer.” You lifted yourself with your arms, trying to turn yourself on your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanna watch as you come.” You smiled sweetly. Now how could Javi deny you when you looked like that? He allowed you to turn over, then he sat up on his haunches and wrapped your legs around his waist. He looked so fucking angelic from this angle, looking down at you with a pleasure ridden face, the sweat coating his body making him shine, his hair disheveled and a dark look his in eyes. The sight paired with his ruthless thrusts, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you, made your second climax of the night get closer and closer, you could almost taste it. 

Javier watched as goosebumps rose all over your body, your nipples hardening and your walls clenching around him tightly, signaling you were close. If it weren’t for how close he was as well, he’d surely have an arrogant smirk on his face from how drunk you were getting off his cock. “You gonna come for me again, querida?”

“Yes, Javi!” You cried, your body starting to shake uncontrollably as the first shock waves of your orgasm washed over you. “Oh my god, fuck, I’m coming!”

Javier let out a strained moan as your walls pulsed around him, soaking his cock and your face contorting in pure euphoria. He couldn’t resist grabbing ahold of your hand, giving you an anchor to ground yourself as you came down from your high, additionally giving him something to hold on to as he started to reach his own climax. “Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside…” You whispered breathlessly. “Come inside me, Javi. I want it. I need it.”

Javier grunted loudly as his warm ropes of cum painted your walls, his muscles tensing and soft whimpers escaping his mouth as he stilled inside you, panting as if he’d just run a marathon. He surprised you by kissing you softly, then your chin, cheek, and finally your forehead. Much more tender than he previously was. You almost whined at the loss of contact as he laid beside you, immediately lighting a cigarette, offering you one, but you politely declined, claiming you had your own. Instead, you slightly sat up in the bed and pulled out a joint from your bag, smirking to yourself as you knew he’d throw a fit.

You took glances over at Javier as you lit up your joint, resisting the urge to laugh as his eyes widened at the smell, immediately snapping his head towards you with furrowed brows. “Are you really smoking grass in front of me right now?” He scolded. “Seriously? You lied to me.”

You smiled. “What’re gonna do? Handcuff me?”

His eyes darkened, setting down his cigarette in an ashtray and leaned over to hover above you.“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You only replied by taking a puff of your joint and blowing the smoke in his face. You whimpered as he kissed you hard, biting your lip until he broke skin. “You know marijuana is a gateway drug?”

“Oh, shut up!” You chuckled, putting out your joint so you could focus on kissing him. “You really gonna arrest me, Javi?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, just…just don’t do it around me, alright?”

You raised a brow playfully. “Oh, so this wasn’t just a one time thing?”

He didn’t meet your gaze. “I mean, not if you want it to be. I was going to ask if you wanted to, ya know, do this again sometime?” He spoke softly, looking back up at you with a hopeful expression.

You giggled giddily, feeling like a teenager who just got asked out by your crush. The grin that stretched across Javi’s face at your reaction made your heart thump in your chest even faster. “Of course, Javi. I’d love that.”

“Good.” He smiled, kissing you one more time.

You smirked. “Hey, maybe you could use your handcuffs on me next time.”

“Whatever your heart desires, querida.”

fuck sake

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Summer daze :- cozy afternoon naps and picnic with gojo and the fushiguros

You cleared away the empty cans into a plastic bag, putting them aside, then closing the lid of the emptied bentos, you prepared this morning.

Gojo streched himself on the blanket, he spread earlier, looking much chirpy and vibrant.

Last few days has been really hectic for Gojo. The higher ups are really driving him up the wall, building up his hatred even more. You didn't want him to get stressed because of those shitty people, thus you recommend to spend this holiday in mizumoto park having a picnic day.

You woke up early today, making different items, including a lot of foods that has a slight sweet hint to it, not forgetting to carry extra candies for him. You also made Megumi and Tsumiki's favourite foods so no one's left out. You are not that of a picky eater, so all these items were enough to please you.

'Hey, that was mine!!' Megumi whines as gojo picks a candy that was particularly reserved for Megumi.

'So what? I paid for it.' Gojo flicks an eyebrow at him, scoffing in superiority.

'That doesn't counts, give it back to me!'

'well, I've already popped it into my mouth. It has my saliva over it....still want it back?'

'Y/n-san!!' Megumi calls for you, 'oh come on 'toru! Teasing Megumi is not considered to be a part time hobby.'

Gojo straightens up, flicking his sunglasses with a swift movement. 'call me that again?'

You couldn't reciprocate for a moment that seemed long. 'um....'toru..?'

He looked at you for a while, intently and steadily, then layed down with a soft chuckle. You couldn't process his response, maybe he found the nickname silly? Ahh I shouldn't have called him that. You smacked yourself mentally.

You were about to explain yourself that it was not something cheesy you made up with and just an involuntary action, when—

'megumi-chan you can have mine.' Tsumiki being the kind hearted angel she is, offers her candy to Megumi.

'Its fine 'miki, you have that, I've got some more of those for you guys. Here.' You hand out the candies to the kids. 'we will leave before evening, wanna have a nap till then?'

'yes!' chirps tsumiki, 'lay down then.' you shift your body weight, lying on the right side while your upper arm supports your head, using the left hand to patt the area beside you, indicating the kids to lay down.

Megumi was going to take the spot beside you, but gojo pulls him beside him instead. Megumi groans, trying to squirm to get out of gojo's grip and run to you. Unfortunately, he isn't strong enough to do that. You laugh a bit, as Tsumiki lays beside you.

Warm rays of sunlight pools over, through the crown shyness, slow breezes cause the branches of the trees, above you guys dance loftily. The sound of the birds, insects and the scent of soil forged a serene environment.

Gojo was fondled megumi's hair, while he slowly drifted in his dreamy slumber. Tsumiki was fast asleep too.

'what was that before?' you said softly keeping your voice low, not to wake the kids up.

'hm?'

'why did you make me repeat—'

'Cuz, i wanted to hear it again.'

'why? Do you think it's silly?'

'You know, what's the most melodic thing to my ears in this entire world?' he smiles softly. His blue eyes shone like the point where the sun rays meet the vast sea. 'It's my name from your mouth.'

You felt a thousand butterflies in your stomach. This simple confession felt more intimate than any subtle physical moments you've had.

He continues, 'Don't know much about nicknames, but you've surely made me silly.....in love.'

[catholictrauma]

this is the place to post about your knowledge and i’m thinking about my little royal sunangel (from the coquette hummingbird family) google deep-dive and i wanted to show you guys these rare little bastards!

this is a male (left) and female (right) sunangel, they’re sexually dichromatic (different colors indicate different sexes) and so, so teensy! they’re roughly 4.3-4.7 inches/10-12 cm long from their beak to their tail!

they’re as little in number as they are little in size, too. they are exclusively found in the bordering andes area ecuador and peru share, where there are subtropical elven forests (because everything about them deserves a pretty name). there are only 8 known sunangel habitats within this area. when documentation started, around the start of the 2010s, there were 12. the estimated population of this endangered bird is anywhere from 3-7 thousand. the royal sunangel population has been steadily — and scarily — declining since their discovery in 2009, and this is largely attributed to the deforestation due to frequent forest fires and the conversion of their habitats into agricultural fields.

it feels like the royal sunangel JUST got discovered, and the scientific community has only JUST started noting down how unique they are among their hummingbird family and birds at large, and now their delicate little frames and stubborn commitment to their habitat range might lead them to death’s door before i reach middle age and have the credentials or cause to observe them myself. ornithologists love these little guys because they feed in these little circuits so no two (super territorial) males may meet, and when they feed, they either stalk and eventually eat insects or take nectar from shrubs and flowers using the punctured feeding holes of some other animals’ labor. also, you know how hummingbirds famously hover while they feed? these hummingbirds are the only ones who don’t. they perch and relax (as is only sensible)!

If you find them as charming as I do, or if you have a heart, you’re probably asking yourself how we go about conserving these birds in the first place.

well, on the agricultural front (which is more heavily an ecuadorian obstacle for these habitats), the situation feels more complicated. ecuador’s market relies on agricultural exports and i don’t see how tumblr users could make the government prioritize sustainability over profits. There are already conservation groups trying to fight that good fight and buy properties on these fragile biodiverse lands before agricultural companies can (you can punch in neoprimate.org for a good one, my link function isn’t working on here) and if you can donate a little to these initiatives you’d be contributing to the protection of tons of endangered species in the local areas.

another way to prevent habitat loss is by funding efforts to prevent the forest fires that frequently wipe out habitats around this area, especially those in peru (the area with the majority of sunangel habitats). there are legal and activist groups putting energy towards that that’s linked above, but another subtle improvement is to provide local farmers and residents with fire weather forecast devices. this way, everyone will be on the same page, and know that if it’s an arid/risky day to light a fire, they should act conscientiously. these devices are being circulated and groups are educating about and encouraging them to the local communities and could use some help in these links. below, i have a screenshot from an organization that doesn’t have a clear donation link for me, but i heavily encourage supporting, because ultimately i think local, sustainable, community-based and indigenous-prioritizing efforts are the way to go.

thanks so much for listening to my little spiel about these cuties, and i hope this information brightens your day and motivates you to care about the beautiful things we can protect. 💙💜

[oneatlatime]

The Crossroads of Destiny

Strap in folks it's finally finale time!

I'm getting a bad feeling from the 'previously on' segment.

*gasp* Song's bird horse!?!?!

Toph gets some serious speed with that earth tongue walking.

Ty Lee's flattery gets less and less subtle. I get the feeling that a lot of Azula's more worrying tendencies could have been curtailed if someone had stuck her on stage as a child.

Is Zuko taller?

The cuts between these scenes are getting ridiculous. Some of these scenes are maybe 15 seconds long.

Zuko knows what's up. He and Iroh have teamed up on that particular fire breathing party trick before.

"It's time I face Azula." Buddy. No.

"You're so dramatic." POT. KETTLE. BLACK.

The last time Iroh and the Aang Gang teamed up, it was also against Azula. She has a way of uniting enemies.

The longer I stare at this the more I giggle.

"Good inside him isn't enough. Why don't you come back when it's outside him too, ok?" Congratulations to Sokka for articulating one of the fundamental human truths. Intentions can go take a hike when all that's visible are actions.

I love that! Iroh says he brought someone along in a tone that very much implies that he asked for help from a friend! Then you go outside and see he kidnapped a dude! And then they just leave him there!

I see your fake meditation. No one as rotten inside as this guy actually meditates properly.

The Dai Li be like

Katara? Why are you ripping into Zuko? Why is Season one bitchy Katara back? I don't want season 1 bitchy Katara to come back.

"No offence." "None taken." Iroh loves his nephew, but Iroh knows his nephew.

The one time Iroh's advice is explicitly solicited is the one time his advice is corny crap. That sucks.

Ba Sing Se is a tel? That's neat.

Hey Toph? Now would be a great time for that new metal bending trick of yours.

Avatar inadvertently validating my fear of subway grates.

I know this is life or death serious and all, but isn't the Sokka and Ty Lee dynamic cute?

MOMO!

This episode's thesis statement boils down to "what happens when you cancel arts programs and theatre kids don't get a chance to monologue in controlled conditions."

Honest question: Is Azula actually so deluded to believe that Divine Right of Kings crap she just spouted, or is she saying what the Dai Li needs to hear to side with her? Usually I think everything out of Azula's mouth is a calculated statement for manipulating others, but the way the show framed that monologue makes me think she actually believes what she's saying.

This conversation between Katara and Zuko, aside from showing that Katara is as capable as Sokka at sticking her foot in her mouth, is actually showing Zuko's growth well. So many of the things that he waves away with an "it's ok" are things that would have made him explode back in season one. It's about time he redefined that scar of his too.

"Aang! I knew you'd come!" "Uncle! The fuck?" Zuko truly has a way with words.

Hey Iroh maybe save your heart to heart until after you've exited the prison?

Wait so this episode is named after Zuko's arc? It's Zuko's destiny this finale is dealing with? Poor Aang's not even the main character in his eponymous show's season finale? Dang.

What was I saying about waiting to chat until you're outside the prison?

So every word out of Azula's mouth here is definitely a lie. She doesn't need Zuko at all. She's got a whole army and already has possession of the throne. What does she need with someone she considers to be an inferior firebender?

Father's love? That guy who burns off faces? The audacity.

"You are free to choose." Is it really freedom of choice if choosing the answer Azula doesn't want to hear ends with Zuko in a crystal cage?

Gotta say I'm intrigued by how quiet Zuko's being for this whole episode. Compare it to the volume of his confrontation with Azula at the Spa place at the beginning of the season.

This is so awful. This is so skin crawly. This is so going to end badly.

Toph can turn doors into ping pong balls. I like that. And what does she need Sokka scouting for Dai Li agents for? She can sense people for miles.

I love the line read on the "I'm not leaving without Bosco!" But does this guy really think he's in a position to make demands, after all the stuff he's ruined in the last, what, two days?

This is a cool move. Full body air bitchslap.

Katara cut her hair! That's kind of like what she did to Pakku with the ice disks.

How has no one been knocked out yet? Everyone in this fight should have at least 5 concussions by now.

I don't know what to make of it, but when Zuko says "I have changed" he sounds more calm and confident than he has all season.

I love the dynamic between Sokka & Toph and Mai & Ty Lee. Everyone involved knows they're second string and no one's really that invested. So they're all kind of chill.

I don't know what's going on in this fight, but Zuko is far too talented and Katara and Aang are both going down too easily.

And this right here is why this fight is only going to end badly for Aang. As soon as Azula's tired of playing, she'll call in reinforcements. Aang doesn't have those.

I hate Azula so much, which means I'm very annoyed to say that she and Zuko actually make a good fighting team. Did they practice drills together or something back in the day? They way they tag out and back in, and exchange fights, flows so well.

Jesus

Crap ok

She nerfed him in the power up sequence! That's not allowed!

So help me god if the writers hook these two up after pulling this crap I will riot.

Iroh could have been helpful if he'd been there earlier. Guess it takes a while to break out of crystals. Although I do like the detail that he stops fighting as soon as Aang and Katara are out & safe.

I was wondering why the magic water was randomly brought up earlier after disappearing for the entire season. I figured it had been lost in the desert with the rest of the stuff on Appa's saddle.

I'm so sorry, but the way Aang's arrow flashes once to confirm that Katara's saved him makes him look like an external USB device confirming successful connection.

I'm loving how immediate the regret from Zuko is. Proof that he has learned over the last two seasons.

"The Earth Kingdom... has fallen." AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT? This King rubs me the wrong way. Consistently.

I'm fascinated by the fact that they managed to securely transport a bear on Appa's back.

Final Thoughts

Poor Aang has been demoted to secondary character in his own show. This finale was all Fire Nation.

Well done Azula. No matter which way you look at it, she won. If Azula was the main character, this episode would be the crowning glory series finale.

Sokka and Toph spent the whole episode running around putting out fires, only for five more to spring up in their place. I honestly don't know how they and Appa reconnected with the rest of the Gaang to fly out at the end. There's this feeling the whole episode of being consistently one too many steps behind, and I think it's most obvious in their incessant side quests.

Poor Katara went through about seventy billion emotions this episode. I take back my anger at her bitchiness. She deserved a vent session, although I don't think Zuko quite deserved to be the recipient of it. But he took it well.

Congratulations to Zuko for falling backwards into the only right choice for all the wrong reasons. This episode was only going to end with Azula victorious. She recruited an army and successfully executed a coup without breaking a sweat - that is not a level of enemy that Aang and friends has ever faced before, and not one they can realistically win against. Like with Long Feng, this is not a threat you can hit. You can't bend at ideologies and loyalties.

Zuko was going to end this episode siding with the Fire Nation as a free man, or in Fire Nation custody. This way, someone with an actual semi-functioning conscience now has access to the upper levels of the Fire Nation. This could be really interesting.

To be clear, I fully believe that Zuko chose to side with Azula because he swallowed her offer hook, line & sinker. For the guy who invented "Azula always lies" he sure does fall for her lies a lot, especially when she's saying exactly what he wants to hear. I believe Zuko believed her about getting his honour back bla bla bla, chose to follow her because of that belief, and has already realised at least some of what she said was lies by the end of the episode. Which is promising! It looks like there's potential for a Zuko mole next season!

I'm worried for Iroh. Firelords who burn their children's faces off with no shame don't strike me as the type to shy away from executing their brothers.

The Aang fakeout death at the end was not remotely believable unfortunately, mostly because kids' cartoons don't ever pull a Psycho and kill the nominal main character half way through. It probably would have freaked me out if I'd seen this episode as a kid though.

Azula hitting Aang during his power up sequence was inspired. A very well done subversion of expectations, which finally validates my frustrations with the concept of power up sequences in general. Few things bug me more than the mooks politely waiting their turn while the good guy does a quick wardrobe change.

So... is the war over? The Earth Kingdom's fallen, the Southern Water Tribe have been functionally out of the game for a while now. There's only the Northern Water Tribe left, which are only still standing because of a Hail Mary that I very much doubt Aang can pull off twice. So is next season's focus going to be defending the Northern Water Tribe from a final Fire Nation push? I think that's the only place that isn't conquered by the Fire Nation in name at least. On the bright side, this means the Gaang won't be returning to Ba Sing Se. Good riddance. I hate that place.

I've never seen a show with a finale that focuses so intensely on the conflict of someone other than the main character. I don't really know what to make of this episode. I think I liked the one before it better. To be clear, everything that happened made sense - characters were in character, events unfolded as expected (if you handwave an elite force of earthbenders preferring a 14 year old over their seasoned leader), but something about this episode is just a bit boring to me. Maybe they telegraphed it too hard in the previous episodes? I don't know. I'll have to chew on this one a bit.

[isa-ghost]

*places down some money*

Phil headcannons please

*eats the coins whole*

Other qPhil headcanons

He means it 1000% when he says he'd burn the entire island to the ground for the kids. No building would be safe. Not even his own. All bets would be off. And if one of the other parents would do the same for their kid? He'd be right there with them.

He loves every egg, dead and alive alike. He has no clue what any of them think of him, and tbh he'd probably be overly humble or vaguely negative abt it bc he's just so shitty to himself when it comes to image related things, thinking they probably find him weird or smth. But he loves them all, and even if any of the eggs DO have a negative opinion of him, he'd still shed blood sweat and tears for them.

GUYS PLEASE THIS IS CANON BUT he is SO BAD at picking up on certain things if not explicitly told. If you have an issue with bird man you have to TELL HIM. He has a million other things on his mind and he has survival brain on by default which means several other things are taking up brainspace, he doesn't have the means to be looking for subtle signs someone isn't happy with him. FUCKING COMMUNICATE WITH HIM!!

Idk I just think Fit, Pac & Mike should convince him to get high with them. But I can't tell if I want to say he'd actually chill out for once & get a lil goofy or if he'd be the type that gets super anxious & hates every second he's stoned

Has a manga collection. It's not that big series-wise, he's a completionist so his collection is big bc he collects every volume of a series he's interested in. He has all of Bleach ofc, most of Chainsaw Man, probably 1-3 other series. He's preoccupied with other things usually so he hasn't read any of them in ages, but Chayanne has been going WILD reading them when he's not out and about

He gets sluttier when he's drunk. That confidence boost he gets when he's drunk enough goes places. Particularly when he's around Fit (Fit's a bad influence /pos)

Tbh? If his usual civil disobedience and the like don't work, I would not put it past him to follow Cellbit's example and just start killing Feds. I don't know how canon Phil's past is but if this is the man who helped create the Antarctic Empire or the man that leveled an entire country? Quesadilla Island's days are numbered and it will be Specifically to spite Cucurucho and any other Fed that's responsible for whatever Phil has an issue with. All it takes is taking his kids away again or hurting his friends :)

Fr tho if/when he finds out what they did to Jaiden or Baghera or anyone of the other islanders? He WILL be unleashing hell for them.

He's ready at all times to die for someone. The goal is to Not die, but if it comes to it, better him than them. And in classic hypocritical Phil fashion, he vehemently refuses to allow anyone to do the same for him. The survivor's guilt would be too much for him.

Outwardly, he processes grief and stress with humor. Because if he doesn't, he'll shut down emotionally and mentally. But don't think for a second that internally, he's a wreck. He's angry, he's in pain, he's stressed, he's conflicted, he's grieving. He just won't let anyone know he is. He doesn't like admitting it.

That said, GOD do hugs and random acts of kindness during tough/dark times get him. It's a hit straight to the heart. He'll get emotional before he can stop it or mask it. They mean more than anything, and they're the quickest way to make him realize just how much shit he's shouldering and bottling up.

Currently his greatest fear is the Federation finding out about or asking him questions related to Ender King. Normally he'd at least prepare how to answer such questions. In this case he has no clue what to say, which really stresses him out. And he knows fleeing the conversation wouldn't go well.

He doesn't typically do anything special with his hair but goddamn it looks good in a short braid. He only ever does smth with his hair for certain events, like Festa Junina. And that was mostly because Tallulah insisted.

If the Federation one day declared every islander needed some kinda career for whatever weird reason, Phil's would be photography.

Don't listen to his complaining. He REALLY likes that there's so many birds around the house. Prefers them outside but he likes them around regardless.

[bakubunny]

On Fridays we share with the class:

I’ve been having this continued thought of Eraserhead, Mic and Midnight as caretakers for a little! Reader.

They’re all over the place but just

- Daddy Aizawa cuddles

- Singing along the radio with Daddy Mic

- Mommy Midnight doing little! Readers nails.

And getting absolutely tag teamed by them later on.

Idk again. It’s all over the place atm.

…is it terrible that my head immediately went into the gutter with all of those situations? good grief. i’m sorry for what you’re about to experience. 💀

daddy shota has the best snuggles. his only rival on that is dilf!kiri. he’s so strong and soft, and his voice is so pretty and rumbly that he lulls you to sleep so easily. he gives the best back and tooshie rubs, and he smells v. nice and comforting but it’s really subtle, just him.

and sure, i’m thinking of the cutest sleepiest cuddles everrrr. but also 👀 cockwarming shota while he reads you a story, and you fall asleep all stuffed and dizzy. 😵‍💫

daddy zashi is so fun and he’d totally want you to sing along with him. he calls you his little song bird for reasons. sometimes he lets you get away with more than you should, but he takes such good care of you.

alsooo daddy zashi loves when you sit on his face.

mommy kayama makes my head spin. but she’d make your nails and toes all pretty because she loves dolling up her little one even more than shota does. 🫣 also great snuggler who likes naked cuddles.

she stretches you out so good on her pretty strap while the guys watch. if you’re really good, she’ll let you suck on her [redacted].

finally i can’t begin to imagine being between shota and hizashi while kayama kisses you and coos sweetly. or your face between her thighs while they [goshhh].

[stardustsorbet]

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓-𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐖/ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍

WARNINGS ⁞ angst, breakups, mentions of established relationships, alcoholism, crying. writing this because if I can’t be happy nobody can (*´-`)

𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇 — 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄

Kaveh stays up late normally, but when you two called it quits he couldn’t help but stay up even later to keep his mind distracted. His commissions got done abnormally quickly, but there would always be a hint of inspiration from you in his designs. You loved Padisarahs, so in every bit where nature could be featured, there are Padisarahs in patches of grass. Some commissioners seem worried, little tear stains visible on the layout, though he tried his best to avoid ruining his work. Eye bags would cling to his eyes, watching over the thrown away sketches. Just then he could only realize how bad this had all ruined him.

𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 — 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒

This guy is a total dweeb (lovingly) in his taste of books, but once you two break up, he can’t help but indulging in a new genre of literature: romance. He’ll never admit it, as nonchalant as he is, but he wishes that maybe if he read these books earlier, he’d be able to take inspiration from them. Watch firework shows with you, dance in the rain, wash your hair delicately. Maybe then, just maybe, the timeline would be different. You would both be happy in each other’s arms.

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎 — 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘

Albedo always appreciated the beauty of everything around him. However, when your relationship comes to an end, he can’t help but notice even more. He’d notice beauty in the things that reminded him of you. For example, a little blue bird wasn’t just a sweet, innocent creature. It was something you’d coo and whistle at, and with everything he could see how your gentle nature would come into play. He sketches absentmindedly, and in each piece of landscape he doodles, he can envision exactly where you’d stand, gazing back at his with that beautiful smile you always wore.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 — 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐌

He’s never violent when he’s drunk thankfully enough, but he sure is emotional. Finding forgotten letters from the previous nights, vision hazy as he tries to read the nonsense he spouted onto the pages. Diluc can’t help but test wine of his a lot more efficiently, craving the way he just forgets about you for the briefest of moments, at least in a completely coherent way. In true Mondstadter fashion, he becomes more receptive to drinks poured for him. Sometimes, however, he’ll have a late night at the tavern when another employee is managing and fall asleep upon the counter. He’d wake up with a blanket covering his shoulders, and it smells just like you.

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 — 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆

Zhongli never thought it would be unfortunate to work in a slow business, but as boredom kicks in, the mind wanders. Working the front at the parlor is a rather unproductive task, most action going on in the back as the deceased are embalmed and taken care of. It gives him time to think. Think about where everything went wrong, how he could’ve stopped this from happening. He’d think about the future you could’ve had, the places you could’ve gone, the memories you could’ve made. He daydreams about the smallest things, like counting the moles upon your body, waking you up with a subtle kiss on the forehead, things he used to do when things were easier; normal.

[afatallovesong]

Hewwooo:3 I was wondering if I can request a Ashton smut when it’s late and you’re asleep with him in bed and you have a lil naughty dream of him that it wakes him up and he gets alil annoyed but turns your dream into a reality but in a rough way?

Okay, you'll be glad to know, I actually kept to the request for once, hoorayyyyy

Hope you enjoy!!

Babe

An Ashton Irwin one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

Word Count: 6512

There wasn’t a clock in your room. There never had been. For as long as he’d known you. It was just one of those sounds that grated on you no matter what time of day it was. In fact, you couldn’t stand any repetitive noises. The clicking of a pen lid, the tapping of fingers on a desk, it got to you, tickled you in an uncomfortable way. Your bedroom had to be a silent sanctuary, had to. You’d so often find yourself chasing sleep, unable to catch a single wink if there was nothing short of dead silence enveloping you.

Ashton had found it strange at first, unsettling really. It was one thing he never thought he’d be able to be on board with. He never thought you two would ever work with this sound barrier between you, but he fell hard anyway. He’d dwell in the quiet life if that’s what it took to be yours and he so desperately loved being yours.

He was partial to white noise. The waves on a shore, the light humming of traffic, birds singing outside, just soft, and subtle sounds to lull him into relaxation. Being a percussionist, it felt abnormal to be in complete silence. One time he actually panicked he may have gone deaf due to the conditions in your room. He could mostly blame his exhaustion for that scenario popping into his head, but it still freaked him out every now and then if he forgot.

It didn’t come without some advantages. It made him more sensitive to sounds and movements. It made him more perceptive of you and your routines. If he couldn’t catch any sleep, he’d lay there, waiting, hoping, trying to find something to send him away. He listened to music quite often. It was the most natural release he had. He’d lay and watch you, twisted onto your side, curled into a foetal position (you always ended up there eventually). He’d watch your form rise and fall on the mattress with each breath. He’d smile at how peaceful you’d seemed. He’d thank his lucky stars for bringing you into his life and then he’d listen to song after song until he joined you in slumber. Tonight, wasn’t going to be that easy.

He'd done his stages, he’d watched you drop into your routine, curling over, hugging your knees tight. He’d put his earphones in, picked a meditational track to try and soothe him. He’d been on the road for the last few months, so used to the engine of the tour bus or the movements of the other guys in their bunks to accompany him and rock him to sleep. It was difficult to adjust back to your silence. The tracks had helped him, they started noisily, a mixture of sounds to illustrate busyness in the environment. They died down, lessening, focusing on particularly calming vibrations. As the sounds condensed, his consciousness began to feel like it was slipping away. His breathing became deeper. His arms felt heavy. He was drifting away into his own wonderful mind. Almost in bliss.

He felt movements on the mattress. Beside him your body felt like it had dipped deeper before you shuffled back and forth back over to your side. He continued to focus on sleeping, he still felt ready to drop. Your movements subsided. He decided you were just adjusting yourself, getting more comfortable. He couldn’t blame you for that. He settled down again. Just a few breathing exercises would get him there. Breathe in. Hold for four. Breathe out. Hold for four. You moved again, backside nudging into his thigh. His eyes remain closed, his fingers start to twitch at his side with agitation and possibly sexual frustration, sharing a bed with you again after so long away definitely did things to him out of his control.

Next track. He needed to start again. He needed to repeat the process from scratch. Loud noise filled his ears again. He tries to still himself, but with your newly restless body shuffling beside him, he’s beginning to lose it. He starts tapping the bed on either side of his legs. Just slow beats drumming into the sheets. He’s still committing to his breathing exercises. You bump into him again only this time he swears you mutter as you do it. He keeps his earphones in but begins to listen out for you over the volume.

You’re mumbling. He wonders if you’re having a nightmare. If that’s why you can’t sleep in one set position. It was unusual for you to be so fidgety otherwise. He aches at the thought of you scared. He’d dive into your subconscious and protect you from your demons if he could. He wonders if he can soothe you from here, let you know he’s got you, that you’re safe. Your body stills as he thinks of it. Perhaps you’d made it out without him. He was alone once again.

You were still for a few more minutes. He’d been surrounded by the sweet sounds of the coast, sand crunching beneath footsteps, water washing over the shore, birds singing overhead as they flew. He was sinking. He was so close. He takes deeper breaths, mouth parting beyond his control. He starts to picture things in his mind, nothing that made sense, just images, colours, and shapes it would take hours to decipher the meaning of. It’s pretty, its bright and it’s so him. He’s so light, he’s weightless, floating away and- fuck. You made the strangest sound.

He removes his left earphone to see if you make it again. Nothing comes from you. Perhaps his own mind was playing tricks on him, keeping him awake as some kind of special torture created just for him. He definitely heard something. He swears it. There! You’re humming, almost whining. Your body shuffles a little. You’d left your ball of comfort, instead you lay on your side, one leg straight, the other bent on top of it.

He rolls onto his side now abandoning both earphones to focus his attention on you. He doesn’t reach out, doesn’t try to touch you. He just watches you. You seem peaceful enough. You were moving. You were rocking, sort of. He couldn’t find a better way to describe it. You were in motion, as if you were trying to get somewhere without ever really going. You huffed and sighed. It seemed like you were frustrated. He decided you could be stressed. Work had been hectic on both of your ends. You could just be tackling your problems in your sleep. He wasn’t sure. He wanted to help though.

He strokes over your back silently. He expects a reaction from you. He’s not sure what exactly, but something. You were well and truly, fast asleep. You continue your shuffling. He decides he may as well keep attempting to soothe you. It’s not as if he had anything better to do. He’d abandoned the idea of sleeping all together. If it happened later on then so be it but for now, all eyes were on you.

He swears your whines were getting louder. They were fewer and farther between. When they did appear, you were clear as day. He’d be lying if his attraction earlier in the night hadn’t crept back up on him again. He was rock solid, much against his will he thought. But then you moaned. You moaned his name. It was so sweet, so intoxicating. He thought he’d hallucinated. His eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. His hand dropped from your back. He waited for another. “Ash.” He held his breath. You weren’t having a nightmare, no, far from it. You were having a dream. A sweet like sugar, dripping with honey, sex dream. He’d never felt pride like it.

He thought about waking you. Even with the realisation that you were just as hot for him as he was for you, it didn’t feel right to purposefully stir you. He instead opted for sliding in closer behind you. He threw an arm around your waist. He buried his face in your hair and he held you. He held you closely into his chest. He just hugged you to him. The time for your shuffling was over. You’d leant back into him. You’d accepted his touch. It was as if he’d answered your prayers and given you what you needed unintentionally. He might have been slightly disappointed that all you wanted was a cuddle. He still wouldn’t say he didn’t love that. He did. He loved that you were needy for his closeness even in slumber.

“Ash.” You call. It’s quiet. It’s above a whisper but just barely. He wants to respond. He’s not sure if you’re sleep talking once more. “Ash.” You whisper it again. He kisses your shoulder to alert you he was there; he was with you. “You okay?” He chuckles into your skin, kissing you again. He wants to smother you in kisses. An appreciation. “I’m good, how are you?” He decides to do it. He litters the top of your spine, the tops of your shoulders. “I’m okay.” Your breath hitches as his kisses wander. “What you dreamin about?” You blush, he can’t see you, but you still blush. “You.”

He smirks into your skin. The blood is running straight between his legs. “Wondered what you were doing.” He begins his affections again. You shudder under the warmth of him. “Did I wake you?” Your breath is still shaky. “That would imply I slept at all.” He sucks a kiss into your left shoulder. “Which I haven’t quite managed.” You felt guilt. “It’s not your fault.” He adds, answering your thought. “So tired I’m not tired at all, you know?” You did. You knew it all too well. If you hadn’t been prescribed sleeping medication in the last year you don’t know where you’d be. Exhausted in a hole somewhere, was that too dramatic to imagine?

“Can I help?” You turn your face slightly. You try to catch a glimpse of him even if it hurts your neck to chase the idea. “I don’t know, can you?” You roll your eyes instinctively. He takes a bold step. He nudges your thighs, you separate them without question, allowing his knee to slot between them. He presses his leg right against your cotton clad cunt. You’re embarrassed at how wet you’d been. “I think I can help you though.” He rocks his leg torturously slowly over your pants. You don’t dare to fight the urge to grind down onto him.

He laughs a breathy chuckle over your neck. “Tell me about your dream.” You want to curl up and hide. You found it mortifying. You didn’t want to confess. You knew he’d never judge you. He never had. It still felt like this was something too personal. The inner workings of your mind. They were inner workings for a reason. “Come on, don’t be shy.” His leg switched pace. His hands grip onto your hips, burrowing into the thick flesh of them. He’s pulling you down onto him. You’re meeting his thigh, bouncing almost. You gasp, pussy clenching for something he hadn’t yet provided. “Tell me baby.” He nips your earlobe, and you lose it.

“Just you, you coming home, fucking me.” He gathered that much already. “That’s what got you all restless and rutting in your sleep.” He digs his fingers deeper, in a way that hurt, but a way that you’d begged for before. “Why don’t I believe you?” You bite down on your bottom lip as the heat pools between your legs. There was something so dangerous about the situation. You withholding information could lead to all kinds of punishment. Your pussy was drenched with your anticipation.

“I could stop. Let you go back to your dream; you liked me there.” You huff. “You’d really stop.” He hears the sadness in your tone, and he’s glad it’s there. “If you can’t be honest with me, how can I give you what you need?” You think about it but not for too long. You lean your head back, neck stretching, beckoning his lips to latch onto it. He does as he assumes you want. He attaches his teeth just below a vein pumping away.

“You fuck me everywhere. Every room. You just don’t stop. Say you missed me so much.” He’s humming with contentment at your words. “God, like a feral animal or something.” He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I loved it, Ash I need it. Need it like that.” He’s stirring from your words. He’s rocking his pelvis as well as his thigh. Shit. “You fucked me on the couch. Sat back and watched me ride you. Said you missed the way I wrapped around you.” He’s letting his hands wander, encouraging your words, drawing them from within. “You choked me.” Nothing new to him there. “Said you wanted to taste me.” This all seemed so normal. He retreats from you. “No, no please.”

He sighs. “Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” He doesn’t limit his hips, or his thigh moving. He just refuses to kiss you until you spit it out. “You wanted to cum in me. You needed to.” He felt his cock twitch at the thought of it. He never tired of filling you, didn’t suppose he ever would. “You said you wanted to taste it, Ash.” You start to grind down desperately onto his thigh. He realises just how close you were from sputtering your secrets. His mouth parts, jaw going slack. “Taste you.” He repeats. You nod quickly. You’re chasing your orgasm and he’s in slow motion processing your words. “You cum in me and you beg for a taste.” You groan.

Ash doesn’t think about his next move. He just does it. He’s sliding away from you. He’s standing from his side of the bed and he’s walking to the door. You’re panicking. Your chest is tightening, and you feel like you might cry. You were scared. He’d forced it out of you, and he’d left you upon hearing it. You pull yourself into a sitting position, eyes fixating on the wooden panels that line your bedroom. “Living room, now.” He orders. Your head snaps into the direction of the door. You choke on air.

You scramble out of your bedroom. You run down the hall faster than a kid on Christmas morning. When you reach the living room he’s seated on the sofa, thighs spread, hands tapping into them with impatience. You walk over to him, not seductively nor confidently. You were too timid for that. Your teeth had been tucked away into your bottom lip so deep you tasted the metallic flavouring of blood. “You take all that time and don’t even have the decency to remove your panties.”

He's pulling you in by the hips. He’s looking up at you, chin resting just above the lining of your underwear. Your fingers tuck themselves into his hair. You couldn’t have loved him more. He thinks the same. Looking up at you, the light around your head pronouncing you as some kind of angel. You were more than that, to him you were far more.

His fingers start to shift the thin fabric separating you. You don’t speak as he removes it. You just watch him. He slides them effortlessly down your thighs and he kisses you every now and again. He gives into his temptations, and he showers you in his love. “Gonna make your dreams come true.” He prods your calf, alerting you to lift your leg to step out of your underwear. “Yeah?” He laughs. Why is he always laughing? Everything was so damn amusing to him. “If it gets you that worked up-“he jolts your body into him and you take the warning to sit, knees sliding on either side of his thighs. “I need to see what all the hype is about hmm.”

You’re stood on your knees, breasts just before his face. He doesn’t let his eyes drop to them even once. He’s so focused on your eyes, so present and in the moment with you. “Want me?” You whine at it. “Need you.” You lower your face to kiss him. Your breasts bump into his chest as your bodies meet. He’s sighing into your lips, arms wrapping around you, pulling you down onto his lap. You’d not realised how perfectly lined up you had been until he slipped inside of you within a moment.

You surge forward even more. Your kiss rough on his lips. He’s devouring you. You’re the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, and he’d be lying if he didn’t accept that as an addiction because that’s what you were to him, an inescapable feeling, a drug, he was endlessly begging to be prescribed. “Fuck.” You breathe over his lips. “You’re soaking me.” His nose brushes against your own. “You complaining?” He pulls your hair, your neck tilting all the way back. “Don’t forget your place.” You clench down on him and he smirks. “Pussy knows who you belong to so why don’t you.” You’re shuddering at his words.

He brings his lips to yours as his hands lower. Your stomach flutters as his rough fingers skim over you on their path down to your throbbing clit. “You feel close.” He mutters. You nod. His gentle touch just above your clit sends you mad. He was doing it on purpose. “Just can’t seem to find it.” He rubs another portion of you, and you whimper. “You’re horrible.” He reaches it and you gasp. “Ahh, there she is.” You fasten your lips on his, tired of his teasing when you’re aching for a release. You’d known you were hot, known you’d been horny, but this was frantic. This was pathetic. You felt like you would have died if he hadn’t given himself to you. Maybe you would have. You’re glad you didn’t have to find out.

“Gonna cum.” You tear away from his lips to warn him. He’s grinning. He’s surprised, you’d never finished this fast. He was so pleased you were going to. He couldn’t claim it as entirely his doing, but he wouldn’t dare tell you that. He was going to own it, to own you and he was going to cum. His cock had been teetering on the edge of bliss since the moment your ass brushed his thigh accidentally.

“Give it to me.” He starts thrusting upwards from beneath you. “Come on.” He’s pulling you in. You’re almost there. Just a few more strokes. Just a few more bites of his fingernails into your hips and you’re spilling over. You’re crashing around him. “Oh god, oh fuck.” He’s cumming. He couldn’t handle it. The moment you tightened around his length he was a goner. He’s fastening his lips around your breast. Your nipple slotted between his teeth, pinching it, aiding your release. You were shaking. You’d felt so much and all at once. His teeth, what was he doing to you? You felt so light, so unreal. You weren’t even here in the room.

Your lap sinks down eventually, ass sitting comfortably on his thighs allowing you to catch a much-needed breath. He fastens his arms tightly around your waist, surging your body forward to capture your lips as if he’d been away from you for far too long. You’re panting into each other. He kisses you with an astonishing vigour despite the exhaustion washing over the both of you, the sleeplessness. Its only seconds before your tongue is back in his mouth, hands wrapped in his locks just like they had been before. His cock twitches ecstatically inside of you, still deep and leaking his arousal into you. He shocks you, lifting his lap, rotating you along with his knees, left towards the rest of the couch. You panic at the shift, not even the action itself. With a quick motion he’s lifting, cock nearly slipping from you entirely.

“Don’t, I’ll make a mess.” He wants to smirk and provide a proud “Yes you will.” But he fights the urge. You felt him leaking from you, it was only a matter of time before the mixture of your finishes were staining the couch beneath you. This is it; you think. He’d going to do it. He’s going to taste. He pushes you onto your back with a huff, bodies still tangled, cock still firm within you. “No, no baby.” He coos. He kneels between your legs, chest pressed to yours, eyes looking down between you both to your connected state that he’d managed to keep. “Cause you’re going to fucking keep it inside of you.” If you could do anything but moan, you don’t even think you would.

He brushes a gentle finger across your clit to accompany his words, your pelvis reacts, lifting into him, needily humping at him. He drops his mouth into a little “o.” Deep down he wasn’t surprised, you had always been desperate for him, even if you fought it, but he didn’t need you to know that. “Still sensitive.” You want to whimper; you suspect you may have. “Bucking your hips for me.” He observed. His knack for noticing even your most disguised form of pleasure taking had always gotten on your nerves. There was no surprising him, he was far too intelligent and in tune with your reactions to let an action like that go unnoticed. He tuts. “Still hard for you.” He laughs, his own hips rocking. Is that why he hadn’t moved yet?

“Feel it?” You nod. “Yeah?” He’d have liked words, words were always better than glances or pathetic shakes of your head, but you were so worn out, you’d done so well, and he was so proud of you, but your job just wasn’t done. “Want me to use you? Make it go away.” It was never what you intended but you weren’t upset. You nod more, pouting your lips for some kind of pity from him, any kind. “You want a kiss?” He cups your face in his hand. His fingers stroke over your tear-stained cheek. It wasn’t a terrible thing to find the dampness there. He knew he hadn’t pushed too far, knew he hadn’t hurt you, because he never would, and even if he had by some form of accident, you’d have told him. You instead cried from frustration and then more so for release. An orgasm you’d worked too hard for, held for so long and then finally on his commands you were elated to be granted it. So euphoric that you’d cried with joy.

“Maybe you should make me cum first. Since this whole thing was your idea and you dragged me into it.” He toys with the idea in his mind. You’d tantrum if he did it. Which would have been a hindrance if it didn’t result in some kind of punishment, he quite enjoyed the idea of giving. You hadn’t misbehaved in so long he was starting to worry that he hadn’t corrupted you as much as he’d been bragging about to his friends. On the other hand, you were so good for him recently, it would be fair to give you what you need, while he takes what he needs, and he could be fair. Choices, choices. Your lips were just there, so plump, swollen from his kiss already. “Fuck, you know you always get a kiss.”

He leans into you, his nose slots neatly beside yours, head tilting to glide his lips over your own. You release all of the tensions in your body, drowning in the sofa and his love. You give yourself over to him. A kiss with him was all you’d ever needed; you’d give your life for another if the occasion was ever there. He enjoys it too, just as much, if not more. He wanders back to the thought of you around him though, your tongue slipping into his mouth not as distracting as it usually was. Of course, he’s not usually inside of you for this long, never warms himself inside your wetness in this way and my God, you are so wet. You’re dripping.

Your mixed juices almost unbearable to contain. Even with a mesmerising kiss such as this, he found it nearly impossible to act as if he wasn’t enjoying the feeling of you. You’d ruined your couch, there was no doubt in your mind or his, about that. He felt bad, sure, but not enough for him to stop. Couch be damned, he thought. He could buy you a new one if it didn’t clean well enough, God knows he already built you a new bed after cracking the last one. It was an investment at this point, the use it would have. He may as well make the most of you now the damage was done, waste not, want not, just imagine it being sexier.

His hips pistol into you, skin slapping yours, the noise echoing through the living room just the way you liked it. You’re no longer a tight glove fixed around him, you’re instead just a wet hole, filled to the brim with him. You’re something he can ram into, no concern for the stretch, for the potential pain of his first thrust. He wished he had the stamina to do this more often. To take you like this. Your tightness over his cock was his weakness but this, this was just divine. The promise of your pleasure and the wetness of your orgasm had given him such a high level of satisfaction that you may as well have ruined sex for him for the rest of his life. This is what it means to make love, this is how good it feels.

“Fuck, so fucking good.” You mutter, tears forming again out of your control. “Say it again, tell me how good it is.” He latches his teeth onto your shoulder, hands kneading your ass, pulling you up from the cushions, allowing him to drive into you deeper. You’re melting under the intensity, and he knows it but it’s just too good, you’re too good. He feels like if he didn’t communicate it, didn’t run it by you, then he wasn’t doing it right. He needed you, your tone, your moans, your tears. “Fuck me so good. Use me like I’m nothing.”

He wants to roll his eyes with pleasure, you were so fucked out and still you knew the right words to say. You were stirring him in a way that only you could. “Not nothing baby, you’re not nothing.” You were fucking everything. He’d tell you if he wasn’t so pent up. He mumbles, shaking his head to focus on his cock, its sensitivity inside your slick cunt. “Best fucking pussy.” He’d be more romantic, but he didn’t have it in him. He wants to cry. You clench around him, and he wants to fucking cry.

Your eyes flutter closed, his lips find yours and you gratefully litter his soft lips with as many kisses as you can muster to encompass his moans. You wanted to help him so badly. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so close.” He’s whiny and desperate. He sounds like such a little bitch, and he knows it, worries about it, but he can’t stop. You’d wrecked him. He wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t capable of holding on, pretending he had it together. He was falling apart at the seams. He was succumbing to your hold on him. You had weakened him into a needy state he’d never once imagined he’d be adept to and there was no more holding off.

“Come on, sweet boy, cum for me.” You play with his chain, fingers grasping the metal, his eyes rocketing down to your fingers. “Doing so good for me.” He lets out a huff of air, before another small wail. He’s so close, he’s hellbent on fighting it. He wants more, wants you to finish too. He knew it was too ambitious. There was no way he’d last through it. He was so disappointed in himself. “Give it to me.” You push, hoping to awaken his dominant side. It was okay to take what he wanted from you. “Give me everything.”

You can’t describe the sound he made accurately enough. It was a gut-wrenching desperation. You felt so bad for him, fighting for his finish, holding himself back, sweet boy. “Want my cum?” His eyes are soft when they look to yours. You see water pooling at his lower lash line and your heart hurt to see it. You want to reach out and tell him it’s okay, so unused to seeing him this way. This was usually a reaction shown on your own face not his.

“Yes, yes please.” You moan melodically to coax him closer. You caress his cheek with the back of your hand and his lips slip down to your wrist to place a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss there. “Say it baby please.” He wants to be demanding and strong but he’s on the brink of utter despair. “Say you want my cum, please fucking say you want it.” He’s fucking into you so erratically, so harshly. He barely maintains eye contact, your precious gaze too much for him to bear. Your heart breaks for him. “Need it Ash, need your cum, want to feel it.” You kiss him between sentences. “Want all of it, give it to me, cum in me.”

He lets out a strangulated groan as his cock pulses and leaks into you drop by drop. His eyes snap shut, his lips twitching and contorting involuntarily. He’s overcome by an ethereal bliss he’d never known before. He felt rather invincible. He thought he came hard the first time but now saw that he was entirely wrong, never been more wrong actually. “Fuck, fuck Ash, oh it feels-“he cuts you off with ease, “like fuckin heaven.” He admits. “Exactly like heaven.” You confirm as his forehead pushes to rest on your own, his face is turning subtly as he comprehends the power of the emotion wracking his body. “You’re my heaven, you know that?”

He meets your eyes. You take heavy breaths together. Your eyes transfixed on one another. There was a connection between you so strong in this moment that it felt like you were the only two people in existence. No one else had ever come close. There were never two souls more meant for each other than you and him. Shaking breaths and the thudding of hearts against your two chests had envisioned that.

Water gathers, clumping your lower lashes together. He’d wipe them dry with his thumb only he can’t take his eyes away from them long enough to move. The small pearls of tears forming before beginning their journey of sliding down your pretty cheeks. How lucky they were to touch you in such a way. He wanted them to evaporate before they had the opportunity to fall but there was just something so touching about the way you empathised with him. Crying at the sign of his finish, so deeply grateful that he had the chance to, enough to stir you into a reaction like this.

He wants to stay. He wants to live in your warmth for eternity, but he still has a job to do. He has to make your dream come true. God help him he’d thought of nothing else since you uttered it. “Gonna pull out.” He pecks your lip. “Give you what you wanted.” You’re throbbing again. How was it that you were throbbing?

He’ll admit he wasn’t turned on by the idea of the taste. He’d never been curious. He hadn’t wanted to know. It was the way you had wanted it that caught him off guard. You were the only reason he’d ever attempt something like this. That’s what he thought at first. Then his tongue lapped up the waterfall cascading from you. He cleaned up the liquid you’d leaked. You pushed your pelvis into him and suddenly he was thirsty. He was dehydrated. He was parched.

He hooked his arms under your thighs bringing you ever closer to him and he buried his tongue inside of you. He only meant to try it. He only meant to lick a little, gather the taste on his lips before bringing them back to yours to share the flavour. He couldn’t pull himself away. He wanted more. He wanted every last drop. You were moaning so loud, even over the noises of him lapping away at your shared juices, he heard your moans. “Fuck, Ash.” He was so hungry. You were going to cum again from the determined look in his eyes alone.

He never stopped. Even when he felt the warm fluids dripping from his lips, down his chin and onto the cushion beneath him, he didn’t stop. You were cumming again, your hips were jittering, twitching into his mouth. He was like a man possessed. “Too much, oh my god, fuck Ash.” Your hands were in his hair, trying to pull him away and despite him wanting to fight you on it, he withdrew himself. You stared at him bewildered. He may have looked the same, wiping his chin with the back of his hands as he sat back on his knees. “I gotta lock you down.”

He leans to kiss your lips, but you let out and exhausted laugh before he can, just missing him by an inch. “Don’t know what’s so funny.” He feigns offence all while smiling, as if he hadn’t just done what he just did. As if it hadn’t phased him. He didn’t think he cared. He chases your kiss a second time, you escape him with an intangible ease again. He sighs with annoyance before trapping your face, his thumb on one cheek the rest of his fingers on the other, stationing you in place. He kisses your pouting lips, you let your eyes roll back as you taste yourself on his mouth. It was far greater than you ever thought it would be and you weren’t too wrecked to acknowledge it. He pulls away finally before releasing you to continue speaking. You were lucky you were cute.

“As I was saying.” You roll your eyes at his persistence rather than eroticism. “Don’t give me that. Where’s this attitude coming from?" He’s mocking you and you love that; he’d flipped the switch immediately back to sweet boyfriend mode. You loved it, but he also sounds demeaning and if you were brutally honest, quite parental in the way he scolded you. You knew a blush had coated your cheeks at the realisation. You wonder if this was the only time, he’d exhibited that authority or if it was just the only time, you’d caught it. “Just made you cum twice is all, think I get a little credit.” He nods his head, but you know it’s not in agreement it’s in consideration of your case. “Think you make the rules cause your pussy can’t keep away from me.” You sure hoped you didn’t, you wanted a telling off.

You try so hard not to laugh when he speaks again. “I’m just a big joke to you hmm.” He’s in a borderline tantrum state, ready to lecture you jokingly until you behaved. If it wasn’t for the pending pout, you’d continue to push him into retaliation. You instead kiss him sweetly to soften him, but his features remain depleted. “I’m not mad, baby, just disappointed.”

You can’t fight it anymore. “You’re so fucking weird.” You nearly snort, ruining any chances of being sexy ever again. He really was acing this paternal disapproval. He’d heard that line many times in his life. He grins back, he knew he was being ridiculous, but it was too fun to stop now. It was late, you were so exhausted, but you were hit with such a pleasant come down that you’d feared you’d be awake for the next 24 hours just to enjoy this euphoria with him. This level of giddiness and goofiness that had you quickly grasping the idea that he just might be the only other person on earth who understood you.

“You’re so right, and so fucking rude at the same time. I just ate your pussy so hard, and you’re sat here laughing at me. Got me tasting my own cum because you begged and you’re mocking me. Hurts baby. Remind me why I like you.” He arches a brow as if he didn’t know the million reasons inside and out. You try something, a gentle reminder, a simplistic action. You watch his face to see if it has any affect. You clamped your hand down on him, squeezing his softening length while tangling the fingers of your spare hand in his hair. You felt him twitch and almost think he’d hardened again from it. “Yeah, you’re right.” He sighs into your neck that he now buries his face in briefly. You smile with a satisfaction money can’t buy, not even his.

“Can’t just squeeze me like that to get a win.” He pouts against your throat. “It’s all I got baby.” You stroke his hair, taming his locks albeit aimlessly considering it was practically sentient with a life form of its own bouncing it back into its previous position. “Think you got more going for you than that.” Ever the sweetheart he beams at you. “That’s probably one of your finer skills though.” You take it back; he’s a dick and you hate him. “But you do it so well.” He patronises and strings out the Ls. “Thanks babe.” You scoff. “You’re so welcome babe.” He always needed the last word. “Love you babe.” You combat. He smirks before he speaks again. “Eh, you’re alright.”

He earns a swift smack to the side of his head, you didn’t apply much force, but you suspected that even if you had, that indestructible barrier of hair would have softened the blow anyway. “Love you sooooooo much.” He pecks your lip. “Babe.” You’d always hated the word but coming from his tongue, you loved the way it sounded. “Still gonna to lock you down.” You groan, writhing beneath him as if to escape the coming monologue despite knowing you were well and truly trapped beneath him. “Make you no good for anyone else hmm.” He pins your wrists like it’s nothing. “You’re hot.” He really was. “You’re also relentless.” He resents that, even if it is the truth. “Yeah, well if I annoyed you that much you wouldn’t be dreaming bout my dick.” He had several other points to add but he felt it best to with withdraw from the argument. “You love me though, right?” He couldn’t tell if he was playing or genuinely vulnerable enough to need it said. “Of course.” You kiss him, he let out a sigh of relief. “Dream Ash anyway.”