#this is making me lose my goddamn mind its good

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

Maybe Atua is like...an alien deity? Or a king? Or some sort of thing Angie worships to cope with the aliens? I think she mentioned her islands flowers being destroyed because Atua didn't like them or something.

Not sure if the world is truly destroyed, but all the bad stuff happening in tandem seems either like the aliens took from the history of bad things in humanity happening and stuck it in all at once, or the meteors were the aliens.

And like with how Miu (I think) said in her fte, she was in an accident and woke up with a talent, and Maki moving so quickly that she can disappear, maybe the aliens saw the Izuru Kamukura files and said "we can do that, but perfect it", and gave them all talents. They just have regular people one so that they don't go all emotionless.

And Tsumugi herself described Atua as Izuru Kamukura, because to her and maybe the aliens, he was borderline a god from the description.

Anyway, this tests what's real and what's fake because if sci-fi has taught me anything, aliens most likely have the technology to make you think things are real, but they actually aren't, but those fake things are taken from your memories that were found to be implemented, but they were also real, but not your memories and rather someone else's. And that someone else is real while your existence is actually in question. What's real? What's fake? How much sci-fi until the fi becomes non fi?

Yeah I get the like body horror but im just wondering what the hell happens next after the game what the fuck do they do with them do they give all those that died little gold star u tried stickers and put them all back on earth? Do they keep them and like make them alien celebrities? Do they turn them also into aliens? incredibly curious about what the hell Shuichi is going to do when he wakes up and instead of a Real Human Nurse its a fucking mini cthulhu going "omg can i have your autograph"

[andi-o-geyser]

I’m so sorry but I think that the funniest thing they did in Top Gun Maverick was the fact that to try to beat the “Top Gun is really fucking gay” allegations they paired Mav up with a different woman this time but in doing so accidentally validated an entirely new gay ship. It’s like. Hey. Lean in real close. Hey. Mav’s got a new girlfriend this time and they’re exes with a fraught past but over the course of the movie make up and get back together, isn’t that so romantic? And then five feet away from all that shit Rooster and Hangman are just straight up saying they have an history with each other and they hold an intense rivalry before they eventually get over their differences and become friends and all the while Rooster is telling Hangman he looks good for the fiftieth fucking time that day and they keep playing romantic songs to piss each other off. The most hilarious thing is that the writers constantly use Maverick’s romances from both movies and basically parallel the only straight relationships with Rooster and Hangman’s relationship, and it’s like? Is this intentional? Is there something you want to tell us?? Because those two have STRONG hostile ex boyfriend energy if i’ve ever seen it, and if the writers want to convince me they’re straight they have another thing coming. If parallels with the only romance on screen then why no canon ex boyfriends. If parallels with both couples from both movies then why no gay. Hmm. Riddle me that Tom Cruise 

[rudeboimonster]

claws into the earth. if you ever want to talk music with me good GOD please do. i want to foam at the mouth about albums and musicians i like and i wanna hear about the ones you do too. inbox is always fucking open holy SHIT

[generalsmemories]

sensitive

✧ sunday x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: the wings by his ears are far too sensitive for what you're both about to do to them.

✧ contents: just a lil scenario for the piercings on sunday's wings. and the hc (that has probs become every writers canon take) that his wings are oh so sensitive. established relationship, mildly suggestive cause why not, uhh, mentions of blood? sunday being utterly weak against his lover. ooc sunday cause goddamn i have NOTHING on this man.

✧ a/n: breathes in. listen i don't believe in any god but good lord i would start praying for this man if he asked me to.

jing yuan wips still in order, i just want to be on my best self mentally when writing for my eepy general so have this brainrot so i can function this week at my work and hopefully i'll write something more <3 thank you once again for your patience!

NOT BETA-READ THIS WAS WRITTEN WITHIN AN HOUR CAUSE THIS BRAINROT HAS BEEN BREWING INSIDE THE MIND FOR A MONTH, IM SORRY FOR THE ALL OVER THE PLACE WORDS - I HAVEN'T WRITTEN SINCE THE LAST JING YUAN ANGST PIECE.

Your fingertips have barely grazed the very edges of the feathers when the distinguished leader beneath you flinches in surprise. The fingers that grip your hips tightening further which causes your body that was previously hovering above him to settle down on Sunday's leg. You can hear a tiny sigh leaving his lips before you feel his head rest against your shoulder, the action causing you to chuckle.

"The longer you delay this, the more nervous you'll get, you know?" you muse, threading your fingers through his hair in an effort to coax him to lay back in the same position he previously was in. You're barely able to touch his right wing again before a gloved hand shoots up from his side and you feel a sharp nip at your neck in warning - causing you to immediately halt all of your actions.

"It would've gone a lot faster have you decided to not do it in such an orthodox method, dear." Sunday retaliates with a sigh, pecking the bite mark as some sort of apology, an apology that you knew was not sincere in the slightest.

You giggle once again, settling down comfortably on his legs whilst slightly leaning back to fully look at your lover. Your arms loop over his neck while cocking your head to the side in slight confusion, although said confusion doesn't reach your mischievous eyes or the huge grin on your face. "Why I thought this would help calm you? It was your idea to pierce these wings of yours after all," you remind him, tapping the piercing gun that you're currently holding onto on his shoulder.

The man before you sighs, seemingly in exasperation over your usual antics whilst shrugging away the piercing gun that you're continuously tapping him with. You can however clearly see the slight reddening on top of his ears, while his wings tuck a bit behind his ears - clearly a signal that he's feeling a bit embarrassed.

"You're well aware of the effect you have on me, my love." he admits, the hand on your hip moving from its spot to instead rest against your neck. "Hmm? Then I suggest that you hurry along to let me pierce your wings before said effect makes you lose your patience," you tease with a quiet laugh. "I do have a lot of experience with this lil' gun of ours after all." you cheekily say - causing Sunday to direct his gaze towards your own ears, which have a few more piercings than your average person.

"... I'm well aware." Sunday replies.

Well aware of how sensitive your own ears are, almost as sensitive as his own wings that have yet to be pierced. He could let out a breath beside them which causes you to tremble, a small peck would make you gasp softly, but if he were to use his tongue-

"You're thinking of inappropriate things again, dear." you mutter into his ears before unlooping your arms from his neck to rest against your sides, your whole weight supported by the singular hand Sunday has on your hip.

"Hardly."

For someone not of Halovian descent, you're somehow able to discern his thoughts immediately - quite a hassle to be honst.

"Well then, my dear? Why don't you relax so we can get this over with so you can return to your duties?" you whisper, moving your body to sit between his legs so that you can get a closer look on his right wing, where he preferred the piercing to be on.

"... Just- don't say anything when you're about to do- Ah!"

The single clicking noise of the needle piercing his wing before retracting back to it's original spot makes Sunday jolt in surprise, the grip on your hip increasing in pressure, but you're too busy looking at the placement in glee to care for your distraught lover right now.

You notice the edges of the piercing reddening a bit, extending your finger to gather the tiny bits of blood that had escaped from the wound. Glancing at Sunday, you notice his slightly glossy eyes that immediately diverts from your gaze.

The quiet laugh you let out makes Sunday glare at you, but his eyes widen slightly when you lick his blood away from your fingertips with closed eyes. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" you ask, opening your eyes again to lock eyes with Sunday, diverting your gaze slightly to his right wing.

You decide not to comment on his glossy eyes, deciding to instead scoot closer to peck the corner of his eyes, "Sorry that I surprised you, but as you said - Doing it this way is far more convenient for the both of us," you explain, lips pressing against Sunday's to coax him into relaxation.

"Mhm, thank you for indulging me, dove." he whispers, arms wrapping around your waist, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving.

"Although..." you murmur in between various pecks against Sunday's lips, your lover raising an eyebrow up in confusion and imploring you to continue speaking.

"I think you said you would go for 2 of the same piercings if the first one looked nice, no?" you say before pressing your lips against his once again. Sunday was barely able to understand the meaning behind your words before he could feel the same pain of the needle shoot through his already overly-sensitive wing.

The loud gasp he lets out is swallowed by your lips, his open mouth letting your tongue slip inside while the piercing gun in your hand slips away from your lips now that you've done your part of the deal. Your hands settle themselves against Sunday's cheeks now- wiping away the few tears that have now slipped down from his glossy eyes with your thumb.

There's a certain desperation in Sunday's hands by your waist. He had first bunched the material of your clothes upwards by surprise, but now he's slipping his gloved hands beneath them and quickly traveling further up - he moves in a way that you don't know if he's trying to push you away to scold you, or press you closer to him to feel your warmth.

He eventually decides to push you away. His cheeks are reddened and he's heaving for breaths while he's glaring down at you in mild disappointment and a hint of excitement - and yet the hands that's dragging the buttons of your shirt from inside to snap them open tells another desire from the esteemed leader of Penacony.

The same mischievous smile is present on your lips when you part ways, your lips are a bit swollen but it doesn't stop their journey from grazing against his now incredibly sensitive right wing, the jerk of his entire body not bothering you in the slightest as your lips glide over his feathers, your lover shuddering a bit when you let out a breath right over his newly pierced wings.

"All done now, my love," you mutter into his ear, shrugging off your now ruined shirt off of one shoulder, "Do I get any reward for doing this so smoothly and quickly?"

Sunday lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your triumphant expression before shoving you down onto the couch the two of you were previously resting on. "I'm thinking a punishment is more fitting for how you didn't warn me of your actions twice, no?"

[captain-hawks]

choso + mating press/breeding press

choso x f!reader

c: mating press, breeding kink, 18+

(loose continuation of best friend's brother!choso)

-> spicy sleepover

Suddenly, despite the joking way he’d offered to gag you earlier, the faded red bandana hanging innocently around Choso’s bedpost doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Not anymore, not when you’re currently biting your bottom lip so hard that you swear you can taste blood—in an attempt to stifle the animalistic sound crawling up your throat.

Your best friend is sleeping in the room next door, and you’re light headed from trying so hard not to moan like a bitch in heat while his older brother fucks you into his mattress.

Your hip joints burn in protest as Choso squats over you and folds you even further in half, one of your feet involuntarily twitching as your spread legs hang uselessly in the air, the backs of your knees slick with sweat as they press hard into his muscled thighs. 

It’s been fun sneaking around with Choso these past few months—brushing fingertips across the couch cushions in their shared apartment; stealing hurried, messy kisses pressed up against the door in the entryway; sending him suggestive texts while you’re sitting at the kitchen table with Yuji and waiting to hear him choke on his spit from across the room.

“Almost there,” he murmurs placatingly.

It’s been fun, and you’ve been so fucking good at keeping quiet—even that time that Choso slipped a hand up your skirt beneath the cover of a blanket right there in the goddamn living room while the three of you were watching a movie.

But right now?

Well—

Choso finally bottoms out inside of you, the position allowing him to seat his cock deep within the tight, dripping walls of your cunt. So, so deep.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You want to fucking scream.

You feel so full, your nerves are singing with pleasure, the feral urge to somehow try to stuff his dick even deeper inside of your pussy leading you to whimper as you rut against him. You might be losing your mind right now.

“I wanna fill you up so bad right now,” Choso exhales, his voice rough, body pressed flush against yours, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

You know he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at that, your walls desperately squeezing his cock in a silent plea. He starts to move, slowly plunging his shaft in and out of the sopping wet heat between your legs. 

Chuckling, he runs a hand up your upturned wrist and laces his fingers with your own, pressing your palm down into the mattress. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being full of my cum?”

A whimper crawls out of you, and he swallows it, lips roughly sliding over yours as if tongue-fucking your mouth is going to somehow make you less likely to break down into horny, needy tears. All you can manage is a nod, and he nips at your bottom lip before trailing his lips along your cheek, stopping to suck at the hinge of your jaw while he increases the pace of his thrusts, and there’s nothing you can do to mask the filthy squelch of your cunt as it overflows with arousal. 

“You’re such a good girl, taking me like this. I bet you’d let me fuck a baby into you right now.”

You bury your teeth in his shoulder, letting your answering moan vibrate against his warm skin, and he groans in response, cock now ruthlessly pounding in and out of you, the mattress groaning in time with the slap of his balls against your ass.

And then every muscle in your body contracts as the air leaves your lungs, a blistering orgasm splintering through your veins and leaving nothing but trembling, gushing pleasure in its wake. Choso’s dick slides out of you barely a breath later, his shaft slipping firmly along your overly sensitive, swollen clit as hot, thick ropes of cum spray all over your tits.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: So I don't think I'm broken anymore. 1 week of a actually doing something didn't ruin me. I come back on the weekends.

C/W ::: Draken x F.reader, Make-up sex?, unprotected sex, P->V

WC ::: Kinda long, 3,035. Happy with every word.

You were going over to Draken's place to collect the rest of your stuff today. It's ok though, because he's out doing some stupid Toman shit and won't be there. Seeing him right now would be your absolute downfall. It would permanently wreck you. You're so fucking horny all the time. Yeah, so, you have toys. But your toys will never measure up to his cock. They'll never measure up to his hands or his mouth on you. He could get you wet by just looking at you for too long.

"Ohp, snap out of it, y/n. Stop. Now." You had to remind yourself on the way over there that not only would you not be seeing him, but you wouldn't be fucking him, either. And all the thoughts that penetrated your brain consisted of him. Pounding into you at such an unforgiving pace you thought you were actually going to die - but it was ok. There was no better way to go than being fucked to death by him. Him of all people.

The 2nd in command of Toman. Mikey's №1… in many aspects. Sitting at the red light you started thinking about how Draken was your №1, how you were his №1.5. Mikey always came first when it came to business. You always came first when he was done with that shit.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice the light had turned green until the car behind you honked their horn. "Fuck!" You slammed on the gas and turned the wheel a little too hard, causing the car to jerk sideways and you almost lost control. "Perfect visual to my life right now. Goddamn it, Draken. Leave me alone." You were really starting to lose it.

After calming down and pulling over to catch your breath, you realized you were already at your destination. It wasn't like you needed to check the address or anything, you knew exactly where he lived. And so often, you were on auto-pilot. Whenever he called you, you floated out to the car and eased your way down into the driver's seat. Your pussy already sensitive. Reeling in the anticipation of what he was going to do to you. How he was going to make you feel.

"Fuck. Ok, y/n. Keep it together." You hopped out and made your way to the front door. No one was around, and the gate was unlocked. That's always a good sign. Draken must have forgotten to lock it before he left. He was expecting you to come by today, but you double - triple checked the date to make sure he wasn't going to be here. If he were, you know all to well that you'd end up fucking in his room before you left with the rest of your things.

As you unlocked the door with your spare key, you realized he probably left the gate open for you. "Thanks, Ken." you muttered to yourself as you walked into the living room. It was just as clean and organized as you remembered it. Nothing out of place. Everything had its spot. That's one of the things you loved about him.

You made your way to his bedroom, and as soon as you opened the door you were greeted by his scent. That fucking smell. It was so intoxicating. He smelled like a mixture of cologne and musk. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on, but it was so sexy. So damn irresistible. You wanted to rip off your clothes and roll around on his bed just to soak up his aroma. You had half a mind to find his cologne and spray it all over you and your stuff so you could have it permeate your senses one more time and last until the smell completely faded away. But you managed to resist the temptation to go down that path.

"Ok, focus." You had to snap out of it again. "This is the last time you'll be in here. Just grab your shit and go." You gathered your clothes and some other miscellaneous items you had scattered around the room. Some makeup, a few books you borrowed from him, and some other trinkets that you didn't even realize you had left behind.

As you were stuffing everything into your bag, you found one of your old bras. You actually weren't even sure if it was yours. "Damn, Draken." You laughed to yourself as you shoved it into your purse. You didn't know how it ended up in his drawer, but you assumed it was from one of his one night stands. They must have left it behind and he either didn't bother to throw it out or he didn't know what to do with it. You decided to take it and toss it when you got home. "It's not like he's gonna miss it anyway."

Once you were finished, you took one last look around the room. The memories flooded back into your mind. The nights you spent tangled in his sheets, him fucking you so good you almost passed out. The way he whispered in your ear how much he loved you. How he was addicted to your pussy. You remembered how you would sit on his face and grind against him until you came. How he would eat you out like you were the last meal on earth.

"Stop! Stopstopstop it!" You smacked yourself across the face, trying to snap yourself out of it again. You couldn't think about him anymore. It was too much. He was too much. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door, locking it behind you. As you walked out to your car, you saw the garage door was open and you noticed his bike sitting there. It was so shiny and well taken care of. You remember riding on the back of it with him, feeling the wind whip through your hair as he zoomed down the streets. You felt so free with him. So alive.

"Not the point, asshole." You said to yourself, making your way over to the open door. "Hello?" You asked. It wasn't like Draken to leave his door open like this. It wasn't like him to not have his bike. There was no answer so you walked in. "Anyone home?"

And there he was. Sitting on his stool, lowered all the way down so he could work on whatever the hell he was working on. You never knew what he was doing. But you knew that he looked amazing doing it. "Hiiii," you said, slowly dragging out the 'i'. He didn't turn around. Didn't even flinch when you said that.

"You're supposed to be gone, Ken." You said, annoyed. Still, he didn't move. "Did you hear me? I said you're supposed to be gone!" You started to get pissed off. This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to be out with Toman, not here. You didn't want to see him. "Hey!" You smacked him on the shoulder.

He jumped up and put his fists in front of him. "FUCK! Don't fucking sneak up on me, y/n! Jesus!" It was then you saw he had earbuds in. A smile spread across your face. You weren't sure if it was the satisfaction of knowing he didn't hear a single thing you said to him or that you scared the shit out of him. He was always so aware of his surroundings. Always knew what was happening. But not today. Today he was at your mercy.

"You fucking scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing here?!" He was fuming. You couldn't help but laugh. You hadn't seen him this pissed off since you two broke up. It was a sight to see.

"I came to pick up the rest of my stuff, you jackass. You said you wouldn't be here." You crossed your arms over your chest. He looked so good when he was mad. It made your pussy clench.

"Yeah, well, Mikey had some shit going on and needed me here." He started to calm down after the threat of the unknown smacking him on the shoulder passed. "I didn't think you were gonna stop by today." He leaned back on his stool, eyeing you up and down.

You knew what he was doing. He was checking you out. Trying to get a rise out of you. Make you squirm. "I … don't … look at me like that, Draken." You didn't know what else to say. You were so frustrated with him. "Don't fucking start."

He stood up and walked towards you. "Start what? I didn't start shit, y/n. You're the one who came in here and started hittin’ me and shit. You smacked me on the shoulder." He whispered in your ear. You could feel his breath on you. How hot it was. How sweet it smelled - and you could never get over that. How typically gross things that other people look or smell like, you had grown to love about him. It was infuriating. You were doing so good until today. (Good meaning you had only thought about him while touching yourself. You hadn't actually broke down to see him.)

"Fuck, Draken." You pushed him away from you, but he grabbed your hands and held them in front of you. He was so much stronger than you. It was pointless to try and fight him off. It was pointless, but it wouldn't be a lost effort. Something would come out of it. And you hoped it would go in your favor. "Don't do this to me."

He pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you. "Do what? Hold you? Is that what I'm doing, y/n?" He squeezed you tight. Your back against his chest. His head resting on your shoulder. You could feel his breath on your neck. His cock starting to harden against your ass. "You want me to let you go?"

You shook your head. Yes or no, you don’t have a single clue but you still did it. You didn't want him to let you go. You wanted him to hold you forever. You wanted him to fuck you until you couldn't see straight. You wanted him to make you feel like he used to. But you knew it was wrong. You were broken up. He didn't belong to you. "We can't, Draken. We have to stop."

He turned you around and looked you in the eye. "Stop what? This?" He rubbed his nose against yours. Teasing you. All you could think about was how it would feel to have his lips pressed to yours. It was like a fire had ignited inside you. A burning desire to have him. To feel him. To touch him. "Is this what you want me to stop, y/n? This?"

Before you could say anything, he had his mouth on yours. You tried to resist, but it was useless. Your body melted into him like it always did. The kiss was so slow. So deliberate. So well-planned. You're sure he knew you were coming over today. You both made plans to not have to see each other, that was what was agreed upon. And yet here you both are.

Right where you need to be but not where you want to be? Is that what's happening? Is that the right order? Or is it right where you want to be but not where you need to be. But all you can think about is his taste. His tongue. Tracing your bottom lip from side to side, top to bottom. The warmth of it familiar and all-encompassing. You never wanted to give it up.

He started to pull away, but you grabbed his face and kissed him back. Your hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, carrying you into the house. He set you down on the counter and started to pull off your shirt. "I missed this, y/n. I missed you."

He slid his hands down your body and undid your jeans, pulling them off of you. You couldn't believe you were doing this. That you were letting him do this. But you couldn't stop yourself. "I ... hoh ... fuck, Kennn-nuh."

He pulled you down and bent you over the counter. Your tits pressed against the cold marble. He slid his fingers into your panties and felt how wet you were. "So fucking wet, baby. You want my cock don't you? You want me to fuck you, y/n?"

You moaned as he rubbed your clit. "Yes. Fuck. I want you, Ken." He pulled your panties down and spread your ass apart. "Please fuck me, Ken." He spit on your pussy, getting it nice and wet. You heard him unzip his pants and felt the tip of his cock rub against your entrance.

"I'm gonna fuck you, y/n. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll forget why we ever broke up. You ready, baby?" He pressed his cock inside you, inch by inch. "Oh, fuck." You whimpered as he filled you up. "So fucking tight. You missed my cock, didn't you, y/n?"

He started to pump into you from behind. You couldn't believe how good he felt. How he stretched you out. The way he hit all the right spots. "I missed your cock, Ken. I missed it so much." He started to fuck you faster, his hips slapping against your ass. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum already."

He pulled you up and started to play with your tits, his cock still buried deep inside you. "Cum for me, y/n. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you, baby." He bit your earlobe and squeezed your tits. 

"Oh, fuck!" You started to cum, your pussy clenching around his cock. "Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna cum."

He pulled out and your head dropped at the sudden lack of him. He turned you around and lifted you up, guiding your legs around his waist, He carried you down the hallway to his room but halfway there you slipped down on his cock. "Oh, shit. Fuck!" He started to cum, his cock twitching inside you. "No! Fuck! Not - not here, not yet!"

"Oh, god!" You started to cum again, your juices dripping down his cock and onto his balls. He pressed you against the wall and fucked you harder, his cum spilling out of you and onto the floor. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He grunted, his cock still pulsing inside you. "Oh, fuck, y/n. I'm still … cumming."

He slowly slid out of you and set you down on the floor. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath. "That was ..." you couldn't even form a sentence. You couldn't believe what just happened. You were supposed to be getting the rest of your stuff. And then Draken wasn't supposed to be here. And now you're cumming on his cock. You didn't know what to think or do. "Ken ... I think ..."

He picked you up and carried you to his bed. "Shh, just shh, y/n." He pushed your legs apart and kicked his pants off the rest of the way, laying down on top of you. "Don't talk. Just feel me, y/n." He kissed you again, this time it was slow and passionate. He slid his cock back into you, pumping in and out of you at an even pace. "I love you."

You looked up at him. "Ken." You put your hands on his hips and stopped him from moving. "You can't. You can't say that to me while you're buried balls deep in my cunt. It doesn't count. It doesn't count right now."

"The fuck are you sayin'. It should count more now than any other time. Why the fuck you think I'm saying it righ' now, hah?" He started to move again, his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust. "I love you, y/n. I always will. You can't change that."

You pulled him closer to you and kissed him again. You didn't want to argue anymore. You just wanted him. "I love you, Ken. I love you, too." He started to fuck you harder, his cock throbbing inside you. You eyes began to roll back into your head. "Fffuhcckk," you moaned as he fucked you deeper. "Oh, fuck. Oh … fuck."

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, exposing your neck. He started to bite and suck on it, leaving a trail of hickeys from your collarbone to your ear. "Cum with me, y/n. Cum with me."

You both started to cum together, his cock spurting inside you. He kept fucking you, his cum dripping out of your pussy and onto the bed. "Ken, stop. Stop, Jesus, mercy, uncle. White flag waving!" You laughed and pushed him away and he rolled over onto his back. He was so fucking hot. His chest covered in sweat, his cock still hard and twitching. "Fuck, you're something else."

He chuckled and grabbed your hand, pulling you on top of him. "Hmm … So are you." He pulled you down and kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. You felt so happy. You forgot how good it was with him. How perfect it was. How in sync you were with each other. "I love you."

You laid on top of him, listening to his heart beating. "I love you. I love you, too."

"So." He said quietly.

"Mm?" It was all you could muster at this point.

"Unpack your shit and bring the rest of it over. You live here. You live with me now." You could feel him smiling against the top of your head.

You looked up at him. "Ken. You can't be serious. I can't ...""Yes, you can. You will. Not letting you go again." He kissed the top of your head and picked up the key you sat down on his nightstand, slipping it back into your hand.

@arlerts-angel @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku @viburnt @katshimizuu @darkstarlight82

[yourstrulyrika]

hey guys did u miss me :3 i am most likely back !!! i feel like i owe everyone an actual explanation what happened that i disappeared for a moment;

first, i was really sick and couldn’t really do a thing, and if i had the energy, i had no motivation, then i got 100$ stollen from me so i basically had a really low episode. sorry for the inactivity, i was sick for almost three weeks & had to go to doctors multiple times. there was more, but i don’t want to dump it all here, since it’s literally a fic post and those things are private so um!! yk.

either way, here comes the actual post, and then i’ll actually get to my rqs so no worries, i’m not missing anyone out! i might be just a biiiiit rusty. just a bit. i lowkey hate this i think

leon x fem!reader, of course it’s a smut, soft soft soft, soft dom!leon, lovelovelovelove, leon letting you try to ride him basically

the last thing Leon likes is being vulnerable. well, one of the last things. he hates being seen as weak, emotional. he’s the strong person of the relationship, he can’t show his emotions right? he’s so deep into that headspace that it was almost impossible to pull him out. he always found an excuse to not let you take care of him.

you would try and suggest taking control in bed, and he always found a way to make you stop thinking about it. it’s not that Leon doesn’t trust you. he trusts his darling more than anyone else, even himself sometimes, but letting someone take control over him just.. sounds weird. to him. he’s also nervous about lying back down and letting you do the job. what if you won’t like it or something? he doesn’t want to mess up. it’s just that Leon doesn’t know what to do when he’s not taking care of someone or when he’s not being ordered around.

when he finally agreed though, he still kept his hands on your hips. not bruising, but it’s still there, large hands holding onto your hips, controlling the pace. he’s not ready to let go fully, he has to hold onto even the slightest bit of control. it brings him a peace of mind in its own way.

but you also bring a peace of mind to him, and he finds himself letting go, even if a little. the feeling of your walls surrounding his length is enough to make him go stupid. Leon has always been quick to grow pussydrunk on you. every time you squeeze around him, he thinks he might bust a nut right there at this moment. the fact you’re so beautiful doesn’t help either; he finds himself losing in the sight of you all the time, his eyes blown out, that stormy blue of his almost nonexistent with his pupils wide.

“Goddamn, your grip on me isn’t fair…” he half whines half grunts it out — it’s true, though. you don’t even have to do anything and he’s already on his knees if you need him to. only for you though — there’s no way anyone else would ever have this type of grip on him. you’re squeezing him so damn hard, he’s losing his mind. he can’t help himself — he agreed to you taking control but he finds himself thrusting his hips up, taking over the pace because your pussy just feels too good.

when you stop moving your hips, he whines. he was feeling so good, but you took it away! looking at you with blown out eyes, he pouts his lips, only for you to remind him he’s supposed to let go. he knows you want him to relax and let you take control— but he just can’t, not fully. still, he tries.

his hands hold onto the fat of your hips, lifting your hips up and down, making you bounce on him, his heavy balls slapping against your ass and making loud clapping noises echoing through the room.

“Fuckkk, your pussy’s so damn good.. can’t hold back when you’re gripping me so fucking hard, feels ‘s warm,” your slick leaks down onto his pelvis, both of your juices mixing into a mess, your sweat mingling with his. one of his hand trails up, pulling you down to wrap his lips around your breast, suckling on it as if you were about to start leaking milk. you tug on his hair, clenching around his fat cock which causes him to groan around your nipple, resulting in you arching your back. he pulls away just a bit to attach his lips to your neck, a faint grin forming on his lips every time you react to his touch. he got you too dumb on his cock for you to keep reminding him that it’s his turn to be lying down and just taking it, just as pussydrunk he is on you, and he’s planning to use it. he still keeps you on top of him but he’s thrusting in and out of you so fast you can’t quite catch up, his pillowy lips all over you making you feel dizzy. you can feel his cock starting to throb and him getting just a tiny bit bigger. he’s relentlessly hitting your sweet spot which has you mewling for him, just the way he loves. it doesn’t take long before you cream all over his thick length, your toes curling and walls pulsing with every heartbeat of yours. soon enough, Leon follows suit, thick cum bursting out into deep your guts.

when both of you cool off from the peak, you grumble about how it was supposed to be him being the submissive one for once, but he just laughs it off with a kiss on your nose before speaking with that grin of his,

“Maybe one day, sweetheart. Gotta work up for it.”

[linorachas]

#3 | bang chan

tags: toys, public space, established relationship, implied exhibitionism, once again chan is a little mean and i want him

buy me coffee?

When Chan tells you he’s got you a gift, he knows the last thing you expected was for it to be a sex toy.

It was pink, small and slim, curved a little at the tip and just a little bigger than his middle finger.

At first glance, it looked harmless. When Chan lays you down on the bed and eats you out until your toes are curling and your back is arching, you don’t even feel the toy being inserted inside of you until Chan thrusts it in and out.

You blink at Chan, clearly confused as to why he would buy something so small. At this point, you’ve basically been moulded to his dick, which was way above the average size. Chan knows you can take it bigger. So what was the point of this tiny little thing?

The confusion doubles when instead of letting you return the favor, Chan just pulls your panties back up, toy still inside. He kisses you sweetly, making sure you forget about every single thing when you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You wanna come to dinner with me and the boys?” he whispers against your lips. Still in a daze from your orgasm, you just nod mindlessly. Chan grins. So good for him.

Dinner is a fun affair, as it always is when you’re with the kids. You’ve got yourselves a private spacey room in some fancy shmancy restaurant, and the food, drinks, and company put you in such a good mood that you forget there was something inside you.

Until…it starts vibrating.

You jerk in your seat, eyes wide. Everybody immediately turns to you, but before you could process anything, Chan is already cooing, leaning down to rub your calf.

“Shit, sorry baby. I didn’t mean to kick you.” Chan mumbles as he presses a kiss to your cheek, apologetic. The rest of the boys soon turn back to what they were doing after the explanation.

You turn to Chan with a panicked look, because what the fuck. What the fuck? The toy he put in you was a vibrator. And despite its small size, the vibrations were so intense you swore you could feel it in your stomach. You squirm in your seat, suddenly very aware of the toy inside of you.

But that turns out to be a big mistake, because that only pushes the vibrator in deeper, and the tip brushes against your g-spot.

You double over with a gasp.

Chan gathers you in his arms immediately. Thankfully, the music in the restaurant and the boys’ chatter were too loud for anyone to hear you gasp. But it was loud enough for Chan to hear.

Chan, who had been planning this right from the start. Chan who had one hand in his pocket and one hand around your waist. Chan, who rearranges you so you’re curled into him, face hidden in his neck.

Chan, who discreetly leans down to whisper in your ear, “Stay still and be good for me.”

You stiffen. Chan knew you always wanted to be good. Especially for him. Chan also knew you couldn’t keep still, because when you were being pleasured, you always moved. Chan always lets you grind down on his face, his fingers, his cock when you’re in the throes of pleasure. He lets you squirm, grab at his hair, play with your nipples, scratch at his back. Moan in his ear. Now, he wasn’t letting you do any of that, and you were going to lose your goddamn mind.

“Chan,” You gasp into the skin of his neck, already trembling. Chan pulls you closer.

“You like it, baby? I picked it out especially for you. I didn’t think we needed toys, but I just wanted to see you squirming like this, right here. I know you would have wanted something bigger, but that wouldn’t have been a challenge for a slut like you, would it?” Chan mutters in your ear. “A huge dildo would slip right in, since you already take my cock so well.”

Underneath the table, your hands grip the hand that was around your waist. Chan interlocks your fingers and squeezes.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me? Are you gonna sit in my lap and let me play with you with the boys all around you? Just listen. If they turned the music down, they’ll probably hear the vibrator and hear how fucking wet you are.”

You turn your head and bite Chan’s shoulder to muffle your moans. Chan hisses under his breath. He shifts, hard cock pressing against this jeans and your lower back.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? My poor girl. Do you want to sit up and grind on my thigh? The boys would see you grinding on me like a bitch in heat. Would you let them see you like that? See how desperate you are for me?”

You try to shake your head, but the jolt of heat up your spine stops you. Chan’s words coupled with the vibrator in your pussy was making you so dizzy. If Chan pushed you more, you might just end up doing what he says and actually start grinding.

When you look up, there’s a glint in his eyes that says he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You didn’t think it was possible, but the vibrations turn up even more. This time, you can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips. It’s loud.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You freeze. Chan grins.

[emdashedem]

Okay but can we talk about this for a minute?

We’ve reblogged the eff out of the first one and for damn good reason. But like. Ava in the second gif??? I have been losing my MIND over this.

There’s just so much wrapped up in one look, in one word — “Bea.”

We can’t even hear her say it, but we don’t need to. There’s a whole goddamn universe of emotion held in that split second on her face because she’s just so taken by a carefree Beatrice.

“Bea.”

It’s a realization. A confession. A question. A plea. A statement of fact. It’s reaching a hand out into the dark. It’s wonder. It’s teasing. It’s “look at you. Look at you. You silly, beautiful thing. I see you. Do you see me, too?” It’s longing. It’s unfiltered affection. It’s a hello. It’s “of all the people in the world, you chose to share this side of you with me.” It’s gratitude. It’s “whaddya say about you and me?” and it’s “I can’t believe one person can make me feel this much, this alive.” It’s the tide, staring at the moon, awestruck and helpless against its gravitational force.

All in a single syllable.

[oliversrarebooks]

roger, whats it like being fitz's thrall? (aka how does it feel to be living my dream... im not jealous... totally not living vicariously through you...)

Masterlist

January 1922

TW: mind control, conditioning, blood drinking mentions of past abuse, fear of death

"You have to get up, sir." 

Roger gently shook the lump of tangled blankets and sheets that most likely contained a vampire at its core. The only real indication that his master was within was the soft groan from inside, a mumble that sounded a lot like "leave me alone."

"I can't leave you alone, sir. You have a show at 7, remember? If you don't rise and shine soon, you won't have enough time to do your hair and makeup and make it to the theater."

"Uggggggh. Why'd I schedule a show so goddamned early? What is wrong with me?" The pile of blankets huddled in on itself more tightly.

"...I suspect there may be several things, sir," said Roger, unable to resist the obvious opening and knowing that a bit of banter might put his master in a better mood. "Regardless, you did schedule the show, and you do need to leave the house for it."

"Horrible. Torturous. Excruciating." The bedclothes rustled, and Fitz poked his head out just enough to take a look. "It's so early that the sun is leaking around the curtains! The sun could kill me, Roger, you can't expect me to get up in those conditions. I could die."

"I believe that's what the curtains are for, sir. To prevent you from dying when you're unjustly forced to wake up during the day." Roger sat down on the side of the bed. He'd done this often enough to know when he was in for the long haul, and he was quite capable of patience -- a good quality to have when serving Fitz. "You were looking forward to this show, weren't you? It's a large venue, and you have your new rotating box trick."

"Mmm."

"I'm sure it will go over splendidly, sir, and you'll be afforded all the praise and applause you deserve," he said. Cheap flattery rarely failed to soften his master's mood. "Aren't you looking forward to seeing the looks of delight on your audience's faces when you perform your new trick? And besides that, aren't you looking forward to being paid?"

Fitz seemed to be lowering both his blankets and his guard. "I suppose so..."

"Excellent. Then forgive me for this, sir." Roger grabbed the covers and pulled them away, as his master produced a sound not unlike a dying cat.

With lightning fast reflexes, the blankets were wrenched from Roger's grasp, and Fitz was clutching them to himself and huddling in the middle of the bed. "How could you? How could my own thrall do such a thing? Heartless, you're simply heartless." He curled up under the blankets and stubbornly closed his eyes as if to go back to sleep.

"Of the two of us, sir, it's technically you who is heartless." Roger sighed. It was always most difficult to wake Fitz in the dead of winter. The long nights enticed his master to stay out too late sampling the city's nightlife, and the cold made him especially reluctant to leave his chambers, which, thanks to the radiators, were as hot as a furnace.

He reached down to the blankets, intending to tug on them again. This time, despite Fitz pretending to sleep, he was faster than Roger, and grasped his wrist.

Roger felt a delicious, drowsy warmth coming from his master's touch, filling his mind with cotton candy haze. It was blissfully dreamy and intoxicating, and, most dangerously, it was sleep-inducing, enticing him to shut his weary eyes and rest.

"Go back to sleep, Roger," Fitz lulled. "Curl up here. Keep me warm..."

Roger was swaying on the spot, eyelids drooping, rapidly losing himself to enchanted slumber -- but he'd been caught by this trap on plenty of occasions, and each time it ended with Fitz regretful that he'd overslept and missed his obligations. It was that memory that kept Roger just awake enough to wrench his arm away and mostly free himself from his master's dangerous temptation. Fitz was making sad little grabbing motions as Roger moved out of range of his hands.

"I'm afraid that if you wish to use your powers on me, you'll have to leave your bed to do so, sir," said Roger, standing several feet away. "The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can get to the pleasant business of washing up." They both knew that it was a bluff. Roger had been under Fitz's thrall for many years now, and his master didn't need hypnotic touch to compel him, body and soul. But it was a bluff that usually worked.

"Fine, fine, you win." With one final dramatic groan, Fitz threw off the covers and sat up. "I'll take my shower, then. But I expect you to attend to me when I'm finished."

"Of course, sir." Roger watched as his master stumbled into the bathroom, and in a moment he could hear the sound of running water and upbeat humming. Fitz loved long, warm showers as much as he loved rolling around lazily in bed. He'd spend at least a half-hour relaxing in the steamy waters and performing his elaborate and ever-changing skin care routine, one which involved enough distinct products as to cover most of the vanity table.

This gave Roger plenty of time to make the perpetually disheveled bed, the foot-high pile of blankets, and the mountain of pillows in every shape and size. He made quick work of it, picked up the dirty clothes that had been tossed on the floor yesterday morning. 

Housekeeping was Roger's primary responsibility apart from providing blood and humoring Fitz's varied whims. With only the two of them in a reasonably sized flat, it wasn't especially difficult or time-consuming compared to when he'd lived on his own, before he'd been snatched off the street by a vampire. He'd even come to enjoy the simple chores. He wasn't sure how much of that was due to his own feelings or to Fitz's coercion -- his master grasping his shoulders and softening Roger's mind, whispering to him how much he loved to serve.

Really, it hardly mattered any more.

When he'd finished tidying up, Roger got down to the business of setting out his master's clothes. Serving Fitz was really about anticipating his moods more than anything else. With a large venue, he'd want something particularly flashy -- something on the warmer side for a chill day -- deep blue, perhaps?

The door to the bathroom cracked open, Roger's signal to enter.

The steam was blinding, mixed with the almost overwhelming scent of flowers, as Roger entered. Fitz was fussing with his hair, as usual, despite not being able to see it in the mirror. "You simply must help me out with this," he said.

"Of course, sir," said Roger, taking the comb from him. This was a ritual they performed nearly every night Fitz went out. Even as the years went by and Fitz grew from a young vampire to a seasoned one, he still seemed so irritated at not being able to see himself in the mirror, sometimes requiring excessive reassurance from Roger that he was still handsome.

Tonight, though, his master seemed deep in his own head as Roger ran the comb through his hair, taking some pomade in hand to smooth it back. He pulled the longer hair into a neat tail, the sort of style usually reserved for unsavory sorts, but then, Fitz didn't mind presenting himself as a bit unsavory. Roger's tense shoulders relaxed as faint hypnotic power flowed from his master's proximity, fogging his mind at the same time it increased his desire to help fix Fitz's brooding.

"Is everything all right, sir?"

Fitz seemed startled back into the waking world by the question. "Of course," he said with his fake smile plastered firmly to his face. "Just running through the show in my head. If I'm going to be dragged out of my bed and into the cold this early, it had better be worth it."

"I'm sure it will be, sir. You're looking quite handsome this evening."

"Obviously," he said, lacking the usual cheer that punctuated their banter.

With Fitz's hair squared away, the two then left the bathroom for Roger to assist dressing him. "While the rest of this outfit is acceptable, this bowtie is just not..." Fitz seemed to be fishing around, thinking of what could be wrong with the bowtie, clearly eager to find some minor fault to distract himself from his own worries. "It's blue, isn't it? You can't have blue on a night that's already cold and gloomy, that won't do. It must be red. The color of excitement and passion!"

"I don't know what I was thinking, sir," Roger deadpanned, picking up the blue bowtie that Fitz had tossed aside and fetching one of his half-a-dozen red ones.

Fitz allowed Roger to fit him with the new selection. "That's why you should leave the thinking to me."

"I'm not so sure about that, sir."

That got a genuine smile from his master. "Come now, when has that ever not worked out?" he said. "With this outfit and your expert attention to my hair, I'm sure tonight's show will be an absolute triumph."

"There's not a single doubt in my mind, sir."

As Roger adjusted his master's cummerbund, Fitz leaned in a bit more, in an unsubtle fashion. The undercurrent of tension Roger had felt all night bloomed into something more recognizable: hunger. His master desired his blood, and, as always, Roger felt himself falling into a pleasurable daze, one where all thoughts fled from his mind apart from offering himself to his master.

"I think I'll need to feed from you when I return. You don't mind, do you?" Fitz whispered in his ear.

"No, master," said Roger, shivering involuntarily. "It's my pleasure to serve you."

"And it's my pleasure to feed," he said, grinning with his fangs bared. "Yes, I think that'll be just the thing to lift my spirits. Something to look forward to after the show."

"Yes, sir. I'll also look forward it." He meant that -- he had long since given up being troubled by his desire for vampiric feedings. He'd felt that desire even for his previous master's painful, harsh feedings, and it was far easier to accept Fitz's gentle trance of bliss.

A few minutes later and Roger had wrangled a semi-unwilling vampire into two layers of winter coat and sent him on his way. Sometimes Roger went along with Fitz to the theater, to help with makeup or hair or just for support purposes, but just as often he was left behind to his own devices. 

He didn't mind either way. It was nice to have a few hours to himself. He often spent the bulk of the time painting, something he'd never gotten to do much of even before he was taken by vampires. He wanted to eat breakfast first, though, especially given that his master might be feeding later.

Roger did hope he was. Sometimes he instead chose to feed on his volunteer from the audience, and that was always a bit of a disappointment, denying Roger the opportunity to fulfill his primary purpose in life. But Fitz seemed interested in feeding at home, and if he was going to do that, it would behoove Roger to be well-fed.

Soon enough, a generous portion of ham and eggs was sizzling on the stove. Fitz had made a promise early on that he'd always keep Roger fed, and although he forgot and broke promises all the time, he hadn't broken that one. Unlike his previous master, he never punished Roger with starvation -- a particularly spiteful punishment, since it also seemed to lower the quality of Roger's blood. His previous master did seem to enjoy punishment more than feedings.

When Roger's former master had been destroyed in a duel, Roger had assumed he was going from bad to worse. That feeling had grown stronger when he'd been dragged to a secondhand thrall appraiser and his worth was assessed at far lower than it had been when he'd first been bought. At the time, Roger had been little better than a beaten dog, cringing at every sound, barely daring to speak or think. He'd lost hope for anything better.

And, well, Fitz was far from the savior he'd often imagined during those days. He was still a vampiric master, a dramatic one whose moods changed like the wind. He could still effortlessly control Roger's mind, and he made Roger do all the chores in the house. Roger still wasn't free.

But rather than beatings and torture, Fitz's "punishments" generally amounted to snippy words and extra chores. There was always food, and he was allowed to paint and read and relax. His master might have a terrible habit of tossing out every piece of clothing in his closet when choosing what to wear and then telling Roger to clean it all up, but compared to what life had been like...

He hoped that Fitz came home safe. He'd strongly prefer to not change hands again, even if it meant dragging a protesting vampire out of bed each night for the rest of his life.

Roger had busied himself painting a bird from an illustration in a nature book when he heard the front door creak. "It's goddamn cold out there! Windy, too."

"Welcome home, sir," said Roger, helping his master out of his frigid coats. He was pleased to see Fitz in a better mood than when he'd left. "I take it your show went well?"

"Of course! Didn't you say there wasn't a single doubt in your mind?" he said with a grin as he kicked off his shoes, leaving Roger to line them up neatly in the shoe rack. "The crowd loved it! The spinning box trick is a real winner -- I just need to think of some ways to jazz it up further -- perhaps doing up the box in spangles to really dazzle them..." 

He shook himself out of his train of thought, seeming to remember Roger was there. "All of that applause did have me work up an appetite, though," he said, stepping close and brushing his hand against Roger's. Roger could feel the influence flowing through him, stoking his need for the feeding. "Why don't you go start the fire? That and your blood will provide me with some warmth tonight, I think."

So he was going to feed. Roger tried to keep his face neutral to preserve a scrap of dignity. "Very good, sir."

Roger allowed himself to hum a bit of a jaunty tune as he stacked wood in the fireplace and lit the kindling, using the bellows to raise the fire higher. He could hear his master making a commotion in the bathroom, likely getting out of his fine clothes and washing off the stage makeup. By the time Fitz arrived in the parlor, the fire was crackling merrily.

"Ahhhhh," said Fitz, sprawling out onto the old leather couch and beckoning Roger close. "This is the life, isn't it, Roger?"

"It certainly is, sir."

"Well, I suppose I'm not technically alive. The point still stands."

His master put his hand to Roger's cheek, and Roger sank into the mind-numbing bliss that came from his power, the familiar sense of captivation and contentment. As always, he could feel his master's desire to feed, and as he dropped deeper into a trance, his hands came up to unbutton his shirt and pull his collar away.

"You really are an excellent thrall," said Fitz, and Roger soaked in both the praise and the sense of security that came from pleasing his master. "Now just relax and let me have what I need."

Sharp fangs punctured the old scars that would never heal, and Roger's pliable mind slipped further as his master began to drink. There was nothing but bliss and contentment and hunger and need --

-- and, as always when his master was anxious, the sound of ticking clocks and the undercurrent of a lonely void.

Perhaps the good reception to his show hadn't brightened his mood as much as Roger had thought.

Fitz drank hungrily as if to fill that void with his thrall's blood, and Roger could feel his senses buckling, his vision tunneling and his eyelids growing heavy. His master was overdrinking again. "Sir," Roger managed to say as he fought to stay awake. "Sir -- sir, you're --"

"Oh!" His master mercifully stopped. "Damn it, I'm sorry, Roger. I don't mean to do that, you know I don't."

"I know you don't," Roger parroted in a dazed voice, slumping against his master's shoulder, allowing his eyes to close now that the danger had passed.

Someday, his master was probably going to kill him. He'd drink too much blood, and Roger would fail to stop him in time, collapsing into his master's arms and closing his eyes for the last time.

But tonight was not that night, and Roger was glad of it.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

[mangoshorthand]

A request via DM from @respecttheno:

I mean i have this idea in mind and i dunno who to peddle it to. Its about reader being too cute that five gets cute aggression and you know, one thing leads to another, probably something smutty. Or basically just him being unable to take how cute the reader is that he becomes aggressive, i'll leave the details up to you, your writing is really good, maybe you can whip something up with my idea.

So here we go! Cute aggression sexy sex. Hope it lives up to expecatations!

Goddamn Darling | Five Hargreeves/ f Reader 2.1k words

You had a certain look that Five couldn’t help but be fascinated by. It creased your brow and pouted your lips like a toddler about to lose their mind. It happened from time to time when you were frustrated, inconvenienced or annoyed. It had a strange effect on him, that look. You were too damn pretty when you were pissed off that way. Not when you were really angry or upset, but at that perfect point of disquiet beyond mild but below major.

Directed at other people, that look on your face spurred him to protect: to put himself between you and whichever asshole made you feel that way. Directed at himself, however, that look made him feel two conflicting desires: to kiss every inch of you until you were smiling again, but also to manhandle you, pull at you, even crush you under the sole of his shoe. Not to hurt you, not really: he’d never do anything like that. But still, the feeling was there. And it drove him crazy. smut below cut

He knew it was wrong for that feeling to make him hard, but there it was. 

You were catching up on emails when his hands came to your shoulders, massaging them gently. 

“They aren’t paying you to work in the evenings, dearest. Come downstairs, I made dinner.”

“Sorry, I’ve got to get ahead of these before the morning,” you sigh, “my boss has been riding my ass this week.”

“Hm,” he said, hands coming over your shoulders to caress your neck,  “We can’t have that: I’m the only boss allowed to ride your ass.”

You dismissed this with a tsk and ignored his roving hands, his breath on your skin as he stooped to kiss your neck, gently.

“I’ll be another half-hour,” you said, “sorry to miss dinner. I’ll warm mine later.”

But one of his hands reached over your shoulder and closed your computer. 

“Hey!” you said, looking around at him.

And there it was. That look. The furrowed brow, the crinkled nose and your lower lip pooching out.

Almost by reflex, his left hand tightened around your shoulder. His other hand came to cup your face, angling it harshly upwards and towards him to give him the best possible view.

A lick of fire behind his eyes, tension in his neck and jaw.

“God,” he growled, “you are so fucking cute.”

The hand on your shoulder suddenly grabbed your shirt. He used the grip to pull you to your feet, chin still tightly held in his other hand. Holding you there for the moment, his eyes scanned your face: the pure, clear, soft skin; the way it dimpled and discolored around the hard press of his fingers. 

Beautiful.

“Do you know what you do to me?” he said, punctuating the sentence by shaking you, “you know what you do when you give me that look?”

“What look?” you said, hotly.

“That look!” he hissed, turning you so that you were looking directly into his wild face. Petulant; adorable; tantalizingly vulnerable.

He surged forward, bumping your nose with his and tugging at your lips with his teeth. The hand on your shoulder jumped to your head and he balled his fist around the length of your hair. He pulled, slightly too hard to be described as gentle, tilting your head backwards and holding you fast, angled perfectly for his tongue to explore. Taking advantage of this, he deepened the kiss, his teeth hitting your teeth, his tongue laying claim to every square inch of your mouth it could reach. 

He growled into your mouth frustratedly before coming up for air, lips swollen, pupils dilated and nostrils flared. He was breathing hard, like he'd sprinted a mile. You felt yourself flush, your body responding to him in delay, in shock at his sudden attack. His fist tightened in your hair, teeth gritting together as he looked at you. Beneath your shirt, you felt your nipples harden, 

He backed off, tried to get himself under some degree of control. He put aside the fire in his belly, the writing mass of heated serpents coiling deep in stomach and the tight press of his pants against a throbbing hard-on. He relaxed his fingers with difficulty and tried to give you a reassuring smile.

“Sorry,” he said, “Are you okay? I got carried away there. You’re just…you’re so,” he sighed and shook his head, at a loss for words.

“What am I going to do with you?” he finished, not quite disengaging from you, but backing off enough to be respectful.

Your answer surprised him. Looking directly into his eyes, your brow pinched again into that sour look. 

“Anything. I want you to do absolutely anything with me.” 

His cock jumped in his pants.

As if pulled forward from the groin, he was on you again. This time, one of his hands squeezed your cheeks together, squishing your lips as he kissed them. With his forward steps, he compelled you backwards too fast for you to keep up with, making you stumble backwards. At this, he lifted you into his arms for the final few steps and threw you bodily onto the bed. He climbed on top of you immediately, pinning you in place with a tight squeeze of his thighs. 

He leaned over so that his nose was an inch from yours, his fingers scrunching tightly at the hair above your temples and pulling painfully. When he spoke, all his teeth were visible. 

“I’m going to fucking destroy you,” he said, softly, “You realize that? I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”

You just looked up at him, eyes telling him that this was more than okay with you. Your pussy was already wet and ready for him to enter you with no resistance. Looking up at Five, looking back at you so aggressively and knowing he was about to brutalize you? Was there a better aphrodisiac?

You bit your lip and he grunted, rutting his crotch into you as he sat up again, removing his own shirt and allowing you to pull off your own.

“So fucking cute,” he whispered, feverishly, still grinding into you as you finished with your shirt. 

The moment they were fully revealed, his mouth was at your left breast, sucking a bruise into one and slapping the other with an open hand. He laughed in satisfaction at your little hiss of pain and dug his teeth cruelly into the spot he’d just marked. 

The pain made you whimper and jerk your hips upwards into his. His eyes were trained on your face, watching your reactions and chasing them as far as they would go. Though his hair partially obscured his eyes as it slipped out of his neat side part, it couldn’t obscure the piercing, menacing expression there.

Still gently nibbling at the breast between his teeth, he gave the nipple of the other a hard flick and a harsh squeeze between his finger and thumb. As you cried out, he switched his mouth to suck briefly on the newly stinging nipple before taking the swell of this breast into his mouth too. Much like the universe, Five was always a sucker for balance. He again sucked, bit and raised a purple love bite as he slapped your left breast, flicking and pinching at this nipple in its turn. He wanted to be able to look back at you tomorrow, marked with his teeth, and remember this moment.

His roving right hand found its way beneath your skirt, stroking at the crotch of your panties: probably transparent from the soaking you'd already given them. He gave a growling chuckle as he felt the evidence of what he was doing to you.

He raised his head for a better view of your face. Your mouth gaped wide, allowing him to see the saliva glistening on your tongue. Still too fucking cute, still too fucking adorable. Still absolutely, maddeningly, infuriatingly goddamn darling. 

Unable to take it anymore, he climbed off you abruptly and grabbed your hips, nails digging into the flesh.

“Turn over. Head down.” he said, pulling you into position and lifting your hips so that your ass is in the air, “Turn your head,” he said, “let me see that face.”

You looked over your shoulder, just able to see Five’s face, suffused with rage and lust which commingled into a stony, burning force. With his eyes locked tight on yours, you heard his zip, the metal-on-metal clink of his belt buckle. The familiar, evocative sound made your pussy gush again. You felt his hands creep up your skirt, flip it up and pull your panties aside. With an intake of breath, his eyes briefly left yours to devour the sight before him.

And he slapped you across both buttocks: hard.

“Ah!” you yelped, indignant and irritated in equal measure.

But, unknowingly, you made the mistake of pulling that face again as he caught your eye.

Five’s lips curled upwards into a snarl, exposing sharp canines beneath.

“Gonna fucking…I’m gonna...”

But words failed him, leaving his cock to state his intent. He took himself into a tight grip and nosed his dick sharply between your legs. He looked into your eyes, darkness filling his yet still looking at you for your confirmation. Looking right back at him, right into the just-restrained aggression, you spoke deliberately:

“Fuck me.”

He let out a breath he’d been holding. He didn’t need telling twice. He poked at your wetness  until, with a guttural noise, he slipped in tight and to the hilt, nails digging into your hips with the keenness of his pleasure.

In this position, his cock fit you like a hand in a glove. You couldn’t help but moan as it filled you, its perfect curve hitting you in that sweetest place. He began to thrust with ferocity that left you gasping for air. Though he wasn’t always a gentle lover, this was something else. His fingers pressed into you: flexing, pulling and clawing at the flesh of your hips. It wouldn’t just be your breasts left bruised by the time he was done.

He slammed into you, grip tightening even more as he watched your ass ripple every time his hips collided with yours. You pushed backwards onto him, bouncing your ass and matching him thrust for thrust.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, eyes closed now, neck arching backwards, “you’re so fucking…” he didn’t finish, instead,  letting out a moan that sounded more like a whimper.

As he filled you - drilled you, even - the pressure built inside you. You could feel pleasure reverberating from the rough, fevered kneading of his dick against your g-spot, from the rough coupling and way he grunted with every press into you. His hands occasionally left your hips to slap hot, red prints across your buttocks. 

Finally, he leaned forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, barely pausing in his harsh, abrupt fucks into you. He pulled you to balance only on your knees, before shifting his fingers inwards so that they pressed lightly around your neck. Using this hold as a brace, he started to slam into you harder than ever.

“Oh shit!” you shrieked, the change of angle and his hands pressing into your throat redoubling the pleasure inside you, “Oh shit, Five!”

Hearing his name drawn out on your lips felt like a prayer of supplication. This, and the walls of your cunt trembling around him as you came was almost the final straw for him.

“Look. at. me.” he said, through teeth ground tightly together. 

Mind nearly blank from your ongoing release, your neck nevertheless turned in his grasp, looking over your shoulder to meet his eye. What he saw in yours, you never knew, but the result electrified him. 

Though you didn’t think they could, his hips sped up even more, fingers tightening. He didn’t consciously let go, but he must have done, because all his muscles loosened. Growling shouts spilled incoherently from his mouth as hot come spilled explosively from his cock. All you could do was try to stay upright as he desperately rode out every spasm: every electric shock up his dick as it spurted inside you. 

Finally, he slowed down, his forehead pressed against your back, his breathing beginning to return to normal. Simultaneously, you both lay on the bed, his softening cock slipping out of you with the movement. He pulled you close to him, his chest pressed against your back, and you let your body melt into his.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, kissing your hair.

You nodded, still too overwrought to speak. He rubbed you softly: the reddened flesh of your buttock and purple bruises from his fingers. 

“Do you need anything, cutie?” he said, clearly concerned by your lack of verbal response. 

You took another couple of breaths, coming back to yourself.

“What’s for dinner then?” you asked, nonchalantly. 

Request Masterlist >> HERE

NOTE: I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

[honeyedmiller]

American Jesus | Javier Peña

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

warnings: smut, literally just smut, smutty smut smut, and oh look, more smut! (also mentions of smoking, edging, defying religion???? [I guess if you wanna call it that or even say that???], cursing, pet names, no use of y/n... also, this is not meant to be disrespectful toward anyone's religion at all. just wanted to put that out there. so yeah. that's all I think). 18+. minors dni.

word count: 1.9k

*= i changed the lyric from green eyes to brown eyes for obvious reasons

based on the song 'American Jesus' by Nessa Barrett.

-

He's got a cross on his neck, but he spends Sundays in my bed

Javier's cross necklace dangles in your face as he hovers over you, lips parted, pupils blown, as he moves his thick fingers in and out of you in a salacious manner. The sounds you're emitting from your throat are nothing short of erotic as you call out his name like a prayer, nails leaving plentiful scratch marks along his back.

"Look at you, cariño. You're a mess just from my fingers. Can't wait to find out what this cock will do to you." His voice is domineering, and you can hear the fucking smirk the bastard has on his lips. He's been edging you for the last fifteen minutes, and you were about to lose your shit if he kept this up. You ached for release, bad, and your impending orgasm was so hot and heavy in your core that tears started to well in your eyes at the near torture he was doing unto you.

"Fuck, Javi, please, please fucking let me cum." The tears fall down your cheeks, and he coos at you.

"Ay mi pobrecita. Since you asked so nicely." He presses the pad of his thumb to your sensitive clit, rubbing circles around it. His skilled fingers have you coming undone in no time, your orgasm ripping through you like a wave in the ocean. You're screaming his name, and there's no doubt his neighbors absolutely hate you both right now.

He's my blue jean little baby, with a halo on his head

"Quit staring at my ass, cariño." Javier warns, giving you a pointed look.

"What? Not my fault it looks good in those tight jeans." The shit-eating grin you toss his way makes him roll his eyes and shake his head. The light behind Javier gave him a specific glow on the top of his head, giving him a halo effect. The scene in front of you was ironic, really, because Javier was nowhere near an angel. Not with that fucking sinful tongue of his, that did so much more than just shit talk.

That same tongue had you calling out god's name with the way it worked its magic on you.

He's got lips like cherry wine, and cigarette smoke on his breath

Javier's lips were nothing short of addicting. Any chance you got to kiss him, you did. His plush lips always kept you in a daze, and drunk on the man that is Javier Peña. He never kissed you half-assedly, either. You often wondered if he kissed other women the way he kissed you, too.

"What's on your mind cariño?" His eyes are trained on you lost in thought, curiosity getting the best of him.

"Nothing, Javi."

"Don't give me that. Seriously, what's on your mind?" His hand grazes your thigh as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

"Do you kiss your other women like you kiss me?" You blurt out your previous thought without even giving it a once-over in your mind.

"There are no other women, baby. Not anymore," His hand is feather-light as it trails up your thigh, sending goosebumps down your legs. He removes the cigarette from his mouth before pressing his lips to yours with such neediness, never letting you get a chance to catch your breath.

Javier was a passionate man when he wanted to be, and goddamn did he never hold back when it came to you. His hand found its way to your core as he rubbed over the fabric covering you. You moaned his name out which to him, was heaven to his ears.

Before yanking your underwear off of you, he paused and whispered against your lips.

"Only you."

He's got pretty long brown hair, and brown* eyes that look like sex

Javier’s dark brown eyes are ardent as they roam over every inch of your body. His dark locks were a mess as he indeed looked very freshly fucked… because he was.

You’d just blown his mind with possibly some of the best sex he's ever had in his life. No one compared to you, and you made sure to let him know that. He was your man.

He was trying to catch his breath after what had to've been the fifth orgasm he's had tonight. You were a vixen tonight and nothing could've stopped you from pleasing your man, over and over and over again.

Javier had been incredibly stressed at work, and you knew he needed to take the edge off, so you were there to let him know you'd take care of him and his needs tonight.

Javier thought you were a god send. No woman had ever made him cum like that in his entire sex life, and fuck if he was going to ever let you go. Not only were you amazing in bed, but you showed him that you genuinely cared about him and his well-being, not just through sex.

His hooded eyes scanned your features, looking at you lovingly.

"Mine." Was all he said before pulling you to him, kissing your head and wrapping his arms around you before he drifted off into a much needed sleep.

Knees down at your altar, please don’t fail me now

"Fuck, corazón, you look breathtaking in that dress." Javier's eyes are ravenous once more as they rake over your body with absolute hunger. It was a hot day in Colombia, so the black flowy minidress you were wearing was fitting for the sticky weather.

Javier pulled you in by your hips so you were flush against his strong body. Your hands rested comfortably on his chest. You felt his elevated heart rate beneath your fingertips, and your own heart swelled at how you made him feel. He may not have always told you, but he definitely showed you.

Javier slowly sank to his knees in front of you, leaving you confused.

"What are you doing, Javi?" Your voice is meek as your own heart rate starts to pick up.

He doesn't say a word as he lifts the hem of your dress up, exposing your thighs and light pink thong you chose to wear for the day. One of his hands cradled the back of your thigh while the other held the dress up, and he moved his face to you to kiss your clothed core.

You moan softly at the feeling. Javier's eyes are full of determination as he hooks the hand that was previously holding your dress up into the hem of your underwear, pulling the cloth down your legs with ease.

"Javi, we're going to be late to dinner with Steve and Connie."

Ignoring your comment, he moans at the sight of your already soaked core, moving his head back to you and under your dress. He gently grabs the back of both of your thighs this time, coaxing you to spread your legs a little further. You have to put your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself.

He wasted no time indulging you as he licked a hot, wet stripe up your core. You gasped in shock, knees already wanting to buckle under you.

"Mm, baby you always taste so fuckin' good. Fuck." And he doesn't stop lapping you up and sucking your swollen clit until you convulse violently above him, causing you to sink to your knees as well.

"I've got you, corazón. Always."

You know all my secrets American Jesus, baby

"You're terrible at hiding your emotions, you know." Javier is watching you with an amused look, cocking an eyebrow up at you.

"Fuck off, Javi." You roll your eyes, and his gaze darkens.

"I'd like to fuck something, alright." His voice drips like pure venom as he watches your every move. You immediately feel an ache in your core at his words, and of course, your face shows it all.

"Too easy. I know all your secrets, baby, every last one of them." Javier chuckles at your disposition, an annoyed look overtaking your needy one.

You stick a middle finger up at him, rolling your eyes.

"C'mere, then, cariño. Don't keep me waiting."

Won’t you take me to Heaven tonight?

Javier snapped his hips at a pace against yours that nearly knocked the breath out of you. He always stretched you in such an intoxicating way, you almost wanted to stay like this forever.

"Look at you, cariño. Fucking you dumb on my cock and you're taking it so fucking well. That's it baby." Javier's voice was thick and full of lust, a sheen coat of sweat all over his body. His focus was solely on you and the inaudible moans coming from you as your jaw was slack and eyebrows were laced together.

He gripped your hips so hard you were sure he was going to leave bruises, but you fucking loved it. You were drunk on Javier's cock and he knew it.

He had you seeing stars with the pace he was going. It was ruthless, relentless, and almost unbearable, but the pain quickly subsided into pleasure every time he bottomed out into you.

You were convinced being with him like this, as rough and pleasurable as it was, was what heaven felt like and damn, you never wanted to leave.

You know you’re my weakness American Jesus, save me

"Javi," You're a panting mess just by his fingertips lightly brushing over your body.

"So needy, corazón." He was teasing you and having the time of his life while doing so.

"Please, I need you." The desperation in your voice almost made you want to cringe, but you couldn't help it. This man was your sole weakness and you'd be damned if you couldn't have him. He was so intoxicating. He was like a drug. Your drug.

His good looks and charming charisma are what had you wrapped around his finger... not to mention his soft side he only reserved for you. You were in love with it all, and even though he didn't know it yet, you had a strong feeling he felt the same way too.

You’re the greatest love of my life

You rested your head on Javier's bare chest as he stroked your hair lovingly. For the first time, he wanted to make love to you. He wanted to take it slower and savor you—your smell, your taste, the way your bare body felt against his—everything about you.

He was scared to admit it at first, but he knew that you'd be it for him. You're the love of his life. He never thought he'd be capable of love again after leaving his high school sweetheart at the altar, but here he is, head over heels for you and everything you are.

You made him so soft, but just for you. He wanted to take care of you, not just intimately, but support you emotionally and mentally. Hell, he could even see himself having kids with you, and that's something he was so sure of that he never wanted—until you came along.

He looked down at you in adoration, and figured this was the best time to admit his feelings for you. The fresh after-sex glow you had on your face was reserved just for him, and it made him weak in the knees.

"I love you, cariño." His voice is barely above a whisper, and if you weren't completely alert, you would've missed it.

You freeze, taking in his words carefully. This was a huge confession, especially for Javier. You completely melted into him, kissing the bare skin beneath you.

"Oh, Javi," Looking up at him with nothing but love in your eyes, you bring his lips down to yours. You kiss him softly before pulling apart, whispering against his lips, "Te amo para siempre."

He smiled softly down at you, and he knew then that he was hooked, forever.

American Jesus

[alilbitlesbian]

Wait, the monsterfucker is ACTUALLY the queen?

Reader x Sonia x Rauru

There's many things that run through your mind when something unexpected happens, like: "What did I do to deserve this?", "How do I fix this?", "Are my friends okay?" and "So the queen of this kingdom is ACTUALLY fucking a giant llama man?"

Wherein the reader experiences distress at the way this goddamn kingdom is arranged, Rauru and Sonia become simps and have to excuse themselves, and the reader gets to go off and fight their first enemy.

So, I shortened this chapter for ease of reading and whatnot, I've uploaded chap 1 and now this chap onto AO3 though! Please go to https://archiveofourown.org/works/47646451/chapters/120093241#workskin for the rest of the chapter!

-

You’d been leading the horses down a downtrodden path for roughly an hour and a half, judging by the sun’s position, you breached a hill and finally saw Rauru, Sonia and Zelda, still a bit ahead of you, but you could catch up if you directed the horses into a gallop.

You had not tried a gallop yet.

The mare under you tossed her head, almost hitting you in the face, you could barely contain her as-is, trying to gallop would likely end up with you on your ass and the horse off in the Hebra region.

You were impatient, not having seen Zelda for a few hours as you'd gone off to capture the horses for her and the others to hopefully cut down on the travel time to Hyrule castle. But risking losing the horses you'd worked so hard to acquire wasn't worth the spared time.

You kept trotting until you were right behind the small group, then pulled back on the reigns ttho get the three horses to slow down into a walk.

The others didn’t even pause or look back, Sonia gently steering Zelda to the right of the path to let you pass, you did pass them, walking a few meters so they wouldn’t get hit by a stray hoof and pulled on the reigns, turning and stopping in the middle of the path, your horse’s hooves scraped impatiently against the sand, when you turned to the others, Rauru scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Excuse me-” 

“Y/n!” Zelda charged past the llama man, whose face lit up in recognition as he actually looked at you, Zelda rushed over to you, and you got off your horse and wrapped her in a hug.

“What have you been up to!?!” She held you by the shoulders, pushing away from you a bit to look at the three horses, Zelda’s horse stepped forward, nosing the blonde, and you laughed. The flaxen caramel horse you'd picked out for her nickered softly.

“I thought we could cut down travel time.” You smirked, Zelda looked entranced by the mare, you knew how quickly Zelda could get attached to an animal (her father never allowed pets)  and gently shoved her toward the horse. It huffed loudly in her face, causing strands of hair to bounce around and into her eyes. Zelda let the steed approach her hand, gently petting its snout as she turned to you.

“That was so smart of you!” You preened a bit under the praise, gently untying Zelda’s new horse from your mare and handing the reins to her, she smiled, taking the reins before continuing to spoil the mare with pets and scraps of food she dug through her pockets for.

Ignoring Rauru, you set the gelding’s reins into Sonia’s hands, she looked up at the steed, it was very large, you understood her apprehension, but you smiled kindly to her.

“Don’t worry, he’s very polite.” You pat the beast on the snout, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Zelda’s new horse shove her lightly with it’s snout, Zelda laughed, nudging it back, seems they were making good friends.

Sonia approached the gelding curiously, petting his snout, you smiled a bit, but left quickly as soon as Rauru approached.

You helped Zelda into the saddle, got up on your own mare (she would need a name) and waited for Sonia and Rauru to do the same, they did choose share the horse in the end, Sonia in front with Rauru sitting behind her. She clicked her tongue and the steed moved, you kicked your horse’s side and she set off as well, Zelda beside you.

-

“Your guard is.. Very stubborn.” Sonia noted as the horse the young woman rode upon tried to bite her once again, the steed that Sonia and Rauru rode calmed down quickly, and Zelda’s only hesitated a few times, when they had to cross a bridge and once when they had to go through a puddle, but the mare the knight rode was wild in a way that was concerning, every now and then, it’d attempt to gallop or trot when that wasn’t the set pace, and the knight had to contain the horse with their arms and legs alone, often veering off the path as the wild horse bucked and paced backward.

Despite having passed several more herds, even a town and a stable, she did not attempt to change horses, Zelda nodded, smiling softly. Like it was expected.

“Ah, well, yes. But I believe that they chose right, a horse must be strong-willed for a soldier to ride it, if they manage to tame it, it will trust them with its life, and they will be able to do the same for it.” She smiled lightly, and Rauru hummed, Sonia knew he was lightly annoyed with the two’s insistence that danger was around every corner, he took it personally, like they didn’t believe that he, as a king, could keep his people safe.

Later, Sonia and him could talk about it, she’d be able to soothe his worries and remind him these two probably never knew anything else than danger, it wasn’t a reflection on him. They were just.. Surviving, in the only way they knew how.

She did not stop him from speaking though, his low voice caused the knight to tense from where she rode ahead, still in earshot.

They hadn’t said anything in... A while, Sonia wondered if the knight was always this quiet, she noted that the rider was paying attention, every conversation, even as their eyes remained pinned on the horizon, scanning the surrounding forests and paths like something may jump out at any moment. 

“Truthfully, Miss Zelda, there are no threats in Hyrule, you and your companion do not have to fear, or prepare for anything.” The young girl shook her head, a forced smile on her lips.

“Even I find that hard to believe, King Rauru, no offense, but where we come from… It hasn’t been safe in a long, long time. It is unthinkable to travel alone, and a death sentence to let your guard down.” The king sighed, but nodded, seemingly accepting the answer, although a bit reluctantly.

“I hope you will come to believe me with time.” Is all he offered.

-

The ride was quite pleasant, all-in-all, it had been delightful and calm as you led the way over the downtrodden path, eyes set on the horizon. A beautiful forest sprawled to the right, the trees thinning out until it became an open valley that bordered a cliff, it wasn't extremely high, just leading down into another forest, but you were still wary of it.

Despite that, you were quite relaxed, closing your eyes and swaying with your horse's movement, the path was right at the forest's border, meaning the wind wasn't quite as harsh as out in the valley, and soft birdsong carried through the trees. It was an enjoyable ride with a soft ambience to which you could relax.

Or, you had been.

Your gaze cut right, horse halting with a whinny and a snort.

“Princess.” You murmured, eyes still fixed on the forest, you saw something move, a monster? No, you hadn’t seen any yet, and it wasn't the correct shape for any monster you'd expect to be here. only chuchus hung out in trees, and this wasn’t the best place for bokoblins to camp.. It seemed unlikely at all that it'd be a monster.

(It wasn’t because Sonia and Rauru said there were no monsters, and you found yourself believing them for some inconceivable reason. It wasn’t because of that.)

Then that left one thing.

Wildlife.

“Get back.” You hissed, low and focused, you couldn’t see if she nodded or not, but her horse slowly backed away from yours, putting some distance between whatever threat you saw and herself.

Your eyes remained on the treeline, searching, you thought you’d seen it, and it certainly seemed like it was spring in this world, but maybe you’d been wrong..

Rauru cleared his throat, his impatience clueing you in that a few minutes had already passed, you must be feeling paranoid.

Just as you turn to let your horse walk again, you see it, and it sees you, and you see it’s children as well.

“Fuck!” You yell, and your horse neighs, ears pinning back as the boar charges for you.

It might not be huge, but it certainly isn’t small, and those tusks could do some serious damage to your horse and to you.

It charges for you, and your horse, brand new as she is, spooks.

You weren’t focused on her, and for the first time today, she easily bucked you off, sending you soaring until you fall onto your shoulders with a crack, it takes you a few seconds too many to breathe again, that choked feeling that hadn’t left you since you had arrived here not allowing it. At least your head was tucked, or you’d have something much worse to worry about.

Your horse runs off, and the boar goes for you, you manage to slice it with your sword, narrowly avoiding it hitting you, it runs past you, turns, and with a scream, charges again.

It does bowl you over this time, you manage to give it another nasty cut though, enough to garner a shriek from it and for it to bolt back into the woods, your sword slick with blood.

“Lyra! Are you alright?” The princess’ shout came, and Sonia slipped from the saddle to approach you where you still lay in the dirt. Breaths rattling as you surveyed the scene, you horse running away.

You saw your horse’s form still running, panicked, scrambling, you get up, kicking away from Sonia and dropping your sword to follow the steed, afraid she may get hurt.

When you approached her, she reared and bolted again, you followed her, not wanting her to hurt herself in her panicked state.

Maybe little too late, she ran toward the edge of a cliff steep cliff that led down into some forestry, you bolted after her, calling for her, she’d certainly break something trying to make that jump, you heard Sonia and Zelda call for you.

No! Your mind hissed as the horse approached the cliff’s edge, you heard a shout as you took out your bow, hand reaching behind you to pull the cool finish of one of your arrows out, twirling it easily and expertly placing it in your bow. 

A loud shout came, angry or confused, from Rauru, but your arrow already left your bowstring, pursuing your target.

Bullseye.

You heard gasps, but didn't see Sonia pause, Rauru looking horrified from where he sat on his own horse, mouth covered by one of his clawed hands, you didn’t spare them much thought as you ran to your steed.

The horse stood frozen in the plain, mid-run, you ran over, grabbing the frozen reigns and planting yourself in the grass. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the others, looking more closely to see the king and Queen looking puzzled and angry, you gave an apologetic smile, realising how it must’ve seemed, you shooting an arrow at the fleeing horse

It didn’t take long for the magic to break, and while the horse’s earlier momentum had been broken, she still tried to pull away, you pulled back, causing her to swing back to face you.

The horse huffed, loud and angry, but not panicked any more, and after a second, she stopped tugging, the reins were taut between you, but you felt safe enough to step forward.

She stepped back, her hoof clattering against the stone under you, she shook out her mane, taking in the scene, her eyes weren’t as blown out now.

You took another step, and she stayed still, enough for you to approach and pet her nose.

Her fur twitched in the way she did when bugs rested on her coat, alright, thank god.

“What was that?” Sonia questioned, approaching you as you returned to the others, you waited until Rauru was in earshot before you answered.

“An ice arrow, it froze her for just a moment, she should be fine, maybe a bit cold.” The horse huffed, following you with her head hung low, maybe exhausted or ashamed.

“Thank goodness, I was so worried when I saw you grab your bow, I’ve seen people using arrows to scare horses and direct them.. But it often goes wrong.” You nodded, gently picking up your blade from the soft grass, wiping it on a mossy tree before seathing it once more and climbing up on the blanket adorning your horse’s back before continuing with a sigh, you led the way, and with the newest adrenaline rush you just felt so, so tired.

-

Eventually, the others stopped you to set up camp for the night, you helped them, cooked with some of the materials you’d scavenged and made sure Princess Zelda was comfortable.

You sat against the side of your horse, who lay flat, maybe just as tired as you after the day, you sat as tall as you could, surveying the surroundings, the moon had risen high above, you felt your eyes close several times, blinks growing longer and longer as your body tried to drag you to sleep.

“Burning the midnight oil?” The soft voice woke you. Your chin lifted, you met the gaze of Sonia.

Your ears twitched, she tilted her head at you when you did so, but didn’t comment, you sighed, glancing up at the sky.

“Someone needs to keep watch.” You replied, voice equally soft, she looked out on the empty plains, the soft sound of crickets and the grazing horses surrounding your little improvised camp.

“I… Know that Hyrule is safe.” She says, you feel a bit more tired, unwilling to have this argument again. “There are no monsters, no beasts who will attack us during the night, at most, a mischievous fox or pack of wolves may try to steal our rations.” 

You want to argue her, to tell her it doesn’t matter what she thinks, that you need to keep the princess safe. But you're exhausted enough to allow her to continue.

“But, I do understand you are afraid, and that these are instincts you must’ve learned for a reason." You hummed, thankful that she seemed to be trying to understand, maybe she'd let you guard for the rest of the night undisturbed.

"But you will not be able to defend your princess while you are dead on your feet.” her voice is scolding but warm, you sigh, knowing she was right. Back when it was just you and Link, you’d switch halfway across the night, and at day, you'd pick up eachother's slack.

But you were the only warrior now. Rauru could certainly help slightly during the day, Rauru’s claws must do something for defense, but, you weren’t about to ask apparent royalty. You were alone, and solely responsible princess Zelda's safety.

“How about this; I’ll keep watch for you tonight, I can ask Rauru to take the reigns tomorrow, you are riding alone, so that’s not an option for you, and I think we still have a day or so of travel.” You nod, you’re tired enough not to question it, and you think Sonia is reliable enough, being a relative of Zelda already puts her in your good books.

If it was Rauru who offered, your answer would’ve likely been very different.

You lay down next to Zelda, keeping enough distance to be respectful (it wasn’t necessary, you’d cuddled with her many a night, but you weren’t sure what Sonia would think, or if Zelda would be okay doing that today, so you kept your distance.)

-

You awoke to a tangle of limbs and blonde hair in your face.

It was very much like Zelda to grab you in your sleep, or maybe it had gone the other way around, still, you woke up warm and cozy, to sunshine on your face, a soft cool breeze and the scent of…

Food.

Your eyes opened, seeing both Sonia and Rauru sitting next to the fire and looking at your and Zelda's cuddle pile, you couldn't quite read their expression, too tired to bother anyway.

Stomach rumbling, you propped yourself up on your elbows, then your hands, spitting out some blonde hair and glancing at Sonia and Rauru, who were now bent over the fire and studying the food they made with a critical eye.

“Lyra?” Zelda asked, sitting up herself and stretching out, she yawned, and you yawned in turn, then Rauru did and you averted your eyes as every single one of his very sharp teeth was put on display.

“Hm.” You murmured, helping the princess up and stretching yourself, your bones cracked in complaint, and you bent your limbs as your heavy armor settled and shifted to fit properly again, apparently having gotten messed up in your sleep.

“Come, Rauru made breakfast.” Sonia called to you. You did come, sitting down next to Zelda, the man in question handed you your meal, you kept your eyes on his claws as he served another plate, then handed it to Zelda, making sure he didn't nick skin.

He settled back down, starting to eat his own meal.

Simmered fruit.

You began to eat, it was actually very well-made, you didn’t want to compliment him, but when Zelda told him the food was amazing, he smiled softly and you felt it impolite not to say anything.

“It’s fine.” You stated, succinct, Link would be proud. Rauru chuckled lightly, not hurt by your statement.

Zelda cut you a look, you shrugged, turning back to your meal. You waited patiently until everyone was done eating before cleaning up the camp.

Sonia looked tired, you were glad she had taken her watch seriously, but felt shame that you’d let the queen take watch for a soldier, your sleep-addled mind hadn’t noted how selfish that had been yesterday, but now you felt it full-force, you didn’t dare look her in the eye.

You had forgotten that your responsibility did not lie only with Zelda, but with the two royals as well. If they got hurt, you'd be in major trouble with the kingdom.

One knight for three royals.

How was that any fair?

-

Rauru did navigate the roads for Sonia, who leaned back against his chest and gazed at the passing scenery.

You shot them a strange look, puzzled, you didn’t understand their relationship, he said he was king but… There hadn’t been a non-hylian king in like, ever.

Actually, there was a bylaw explicitly against it.

He caught your eye, brow raising, and you snapped your head to look forward again, ignoring him. You clicked your tongue and your horse settled into a trot instead, Rauru and Zelda changing pace to keep up.

-

The castle crested over the hills, you sighed, relieved, letting Zelda overtake you so you were next to her, you weren’t there yet, it may be 2 hours until you’d arrive, Sonia was fast asleep against Rauru, your brow knitted together in guilt, still, you led the way in an even trot, making sure to keep an eye out for possible danger.

-

The castle was different than what you recognized. You slowed your mare, she neighed, a bit upset, but listened either way, you let both Zelda and the royals overtake you, following them at a respectable distance, you weren’t their equal, best not act like it.

Rauru glanced at you, confused, but didn’t stop or beckon you over, so you remained where you were, following in the royals’ wake and looking at the soldiers (half naked, with wooden weapons) curiously, they, in turn, looked at you like you’d hung the moon and the stars, with your sleek armor and durable weapons, you felt like something exotic to be gawked at.

Great.

You scowled, straightening your features with a twitch of your ears, the king and queen went ahead through the gates, then Zelda, and you managed to get in before the doors gates closed and locked you out.

Both Rauru and Sonia dismount, you get off your own horse quickly to help Zelda off of her own steed, watching as the horses are quickly led away by some stablehands.

You follow a step behind Zelda as she’s quickly guided away by Sonia and Rauru, you hadn’t paid much attention to their plans aside from the necessary details, Zelda was a distant relative who came to visit, you were her personal guard.

You followed, ignoring the pinning gazes of servants and guards alike, at least you weren’t the only one, Zelda looked just as uncomfortable as you.

Just the two of us in this strange but familiar world.

[of-many-fandomss]

Ooo can I please request a Tangerine x fem!reader Valentine’s request? Where she is Tan’s gf and Tan and Lem’s partner, and all three are really close. Y/n saves him from dying on the Bullet Train, and he proposes to her while still on the train, Y/n of course saying yes, but also being like, “You chose to ask me this NOW?? You almost died??”🥺🥺🧡🧡

This is so adorable

—————

The man was pointing a gun at your boyfriend, and you saw red.

Nothing else in the world mattered as you charged towards him at full speed. The only thought on your mind was that you had to save Tangerine. No matter what.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, you tackled him sideways, making him lose his balance and fire the gun, but it missed its original intended target of your boyfriends head.

Still, it grazed him in the side, but he would be fine. You both knew he had lived through much worse and this was merely a scratch compared to all those things.

Quickly, you delivered one swift kick to the man’s head, effectively knocking him out, and you barely even registered a young girl you didn’t know take off down and out of the cart.

Immediately, you dropped down to your boyfriends side, ignoring his spewing of curses, and began to examine his wound.

Sighing softly in relief, you ripped off part of your lower pants and used it to apply pressure to the graze, “You’ll be fine,” You reassured him, “We’ll just get it bandaged after we get off of this goddamned train.”

He groaned, shifting his body so that he was leaning upright against the wall and he slowly opened his eyes to look up at you.

“Hey there, love,” He greeted casually, “How’s it going?”

You rolled your eyes, “You need to stop making light of these kinds of situations.” You scolded.

“What kinds of situations?” He leaned his head teasingly to the side.

“The ones where you almost died.” You hummed.

“Oh, I see. I’ll just sit here cryin’ about how I almost got my fuckin’ brains blown out. Is that what you want, eh?” There was a playfulness in his tone that you had the privilege of knowing that he only used with you.

You hummed mockingly, “Yeah, that’s it.”

The two of you fell silent, you tending to his wound and him studying your every move with a look of adoration that could easily make your heart melt into a puddle of goo.

“Hey, love?”

“Yeah?” You were looking at what you were doing, not up at him.

“Look up at me for a second?” He requested politely.

You did just that, eyes widening and heart stopping at what you saw.

It was a ring. He was holding a ring.

“I love ya so goddamn much, ya know that?” He began to ramble, “And I wanted to wait till after this mission at some fancy ass restaurant that I would’ve booked for us since it’s Valentine’s Day, but I just can’t wait any longer. I’ve been carryin’ around this fuckin’ thing for months, waitin’ for the right time, but I don’t want to wait anymore because I want to have-“ He cut himself off and took a deep breath, “Love, will you marry me?”

Of course you would marry him. Of course you would.

“Is this really the best time to ask this?” Perhaps the state of shock that you were in was what compelled you not to be able to say anything else.

He flashed that devastatingly handsome grin of his in your direction, “What better time?” He asked uncharacteristically softly.

“Yes,” Tears of joy had begun to fill your eyes and leak down your face, “Yes, yes, yes. God, yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

Tangerine grinned wider than you had ever seen him and he barely had time to slip the ring on your finger before you had thrown yourself at him, kissing him hard and throwing your arms around his neck. Yet, still careful of his injury.

“Good,” He grinned when you pulled away slightly, “Had me worried there for a second.”

[boobookiss]

Is there a way to CREATE a fandom tag on ao3? Because GODDAMN it is so hard to find ego fics in these conditions. Some are tagged as heist with markiplier, some are tagged as rpf (even when they're not), some are tagged as mark fischbach or markiplier, some are tagged in space, it's like impossible to get a good read on how many fanfics there actually are on there for egos. Like it's telling me the first fanfic related to ahwm that was ever posted was posted in 2021, and I know that is not true.

If I look up "Baldurs gate 3" as a fandom tag it will show me every single fanfic in that fandom from the beggining of time, and then i can add other tags ontop of it to shrink the search. But with egos its nearly impossible to discover new stuff cause it's all hidden under 85 differemt tags!

Why is it so disorganized anyways?? I wish we could all just make one universal tag like "Markiplier ego universe" or something, and be done with it. That wouldn't solve all the old fics tags but at least it would make it organized from here going forward. I'm losing my mind.

[scientia-rex]

Some Thoughts on Antipsychotic Medications

Ok, enough of you seemed interested in this when I asked in my antidepressant post (don't ask me for a link, search my goddamn tumblr for it, oh my GOD people were so lazy about my post on bariatric surgery). Once again, this is NOT medical advice, medical advice must be TAILORED TO THE INDIVIDUAL, that's the whole POINT of a professional field, literally every answer is "it depends" and without being your doctor, which I better not be because if you're my patient reading this I need to nuke my entire social media presence, I can't give you good advice and I wouldn't anyway because I already work 115% time and I'm very tired and you don't pay me.

There's a lot of crossover between "antipsychotic" and "mood stabilizer." I don't have as much experience with antipsychotics as I do with antidepressants, but more than your average bear. So you may see a med here and go "wait, what?" because of that overlap.

It's also worth discussing what psychosis is. There are a lot of media representations, and they are generally very stupid and bad. About 3% of the population will have a psychotic episode in their lifetime, so keep that in mind when you're talking about psychosis. There's about a 1 in 30 chance that the person you're talking to will actually have had psychosis, and a much higher chance that someone they know or love will. So don't be a dick about it. Psychosis involves losing the ability to distinguish what is reality and what is not. It seems to involve overactivity of dopaminergic transmission in specific brain pathways. It tends to be very frightening for its sufferers, although not always. Psychotic symptoms can range from a persistent delusion--I have one patient who is quite simply certain that they have worms in their lungs, despite all the tests indicating that they don't--to hallucinations of voices, to visual hallucinations, and any combination of those. Delusions and hallucinations are often negatively valenced, which means that they make the sufferer feel bad in some way, whether it's an auditory hallucination of someone telling you you're the devil, or a delusion that you're being persecuted by conspiracies for unclear reasons, or hallucinations of shadowy figures out of the corner of your eye. Delusions, when I see them in my patient, often reflect a patient's deepest fear. I had one patient who was a caregiver and they were fixated on the idea that there was a conspiracy of people watching them and setting up "tests" to make sure they weren't hurting patients or doing drugs.

It's also worth mentioning meth. Meth is one of the major causes I see of psychotic symptoms (especially since I'm in a rural area), and you need to understand that the longer and the more you do meth, the higher the likelihood of persistent psychotic symptoms. When I was a med student on an inpatient high-acuity psych ward, I had a very pleasant gentleman who'd been doing meth for years. It's tough to get a clear history, but my impression was that he probably hadn't developed psychotic symptoms until multiple years into daily use of meth--but now, despite being on the ward for over a week, there was no sign of the psychosis going away. He believed he could say things to passing cars and the sound would travel with the car, and someone miles away would hear it. He also believed there were indistinct white figures who hovered around his campsite. (He was homeless.) Meth can break your brain. Don't do meth.

The original antipsychotics are old school. We're talking the 1930s. Promethazine was developed in the process of trying to come up with antihistamines. First-generation antipsychotics are dopamine antagonists, and that means that they're blocking a large proportion of dopaminergic transmission both in the brain pathways related to psychotic symptoms, but also in the pathways related to reward, which sucks. When you think of "antipsychotics," this is most likely what you're thinking of unless you have personal experience with antipsychotics. First-generation antipsychotics include haloperidol (Haldol), chlorpromazine (Thorazine), and a handful of others, but it's a smaller class than the second generation.

Second-generation antipsychotics were a game changer. These are serotonin-dopamine antagonists. They include risperidone (Risperdal), paliperidone (Invega-Sustenna), quetiapine (Seroquel), aripiprazole (Abilify), olanzapine (Zyprexa), lurasidone (Latuda), ziprasidone (Geodon), and also clozapine, AKA the antipsychotic everyone hates prescribing because it can cause your white blood cells to suddenly go bye-bye and boom, you're at huge risk for infection. The only patient I've ever seen develop clear, unambiguous serotonin syndrome was on clozapine. I don't prescribe it as an outpatient family doctor; it's a medication of last resort, and more often seen in inpatient settings due to the need for frequent blood tests to monitor.

Because the brain is a great recycler, we also use dopamine in the control of our movements. This means that one of the more serious side effects of antipsychotics is a problem with movement. This is typically going to be something called "tardive dyskinesia," which means "slow messed up movement," but in Greek because we're fancy. TD is dreaded because we can't always reverse it. A medication called benztropine can help, but the better option, if at all possible, is to get someone off the medication that called the TD in the first place.

If you're keeping track, you're noticing that dopamine does a lot in the brain: the reward pathway, psychotic symptoms, movement. Your body also uses it for stuff outside the brain, like affecting gut motility and blood vessel dilation. It is really hard to come up with medications that only affect one thing, because the body will use the same messaging systems over and over. This is a big part of why there's some much cross-talk between medications that are ostensibly for one thing but used for many other things.

First-generation antipsychotics can be particularly bad about making people feel flat and incapable of feeling joy. The technical term for "incapable of feeling joy" is "anhedonia," Greek again, this time for "no happiness." This is incredibly punishing and people will often go off their meds in order to feel something. I don't want to hear any bullshit blaming people who do this. You probably would too, and learning not to throw rocks from a glass house is critical to being a decent fucking human being. However, it does mean that I have much more success keeping patients on second-generation antipsychotics. There is both a lower risk of anhedonia and a lower risk of TD, so in general, unless someone doesn't respond to second-generation antipsychotics, they won't be started on a first-generation. I have absolutely used first-gen antipsychotics for patients but they're more typical in the inpatient setting, where it's okay--and sometimes a good thing--if someone is sedated. One memorable example was in an emergency department where a woman was violent and had to be restrained with both physical restraints and a spit hood. We can't just go around sedating people these days--that's a whole-ass thing, because for a long time "treatment" in inpatient facilities was too often taken to be "sedation"--but boy howdy, she needed some Haldol.

I also work part time at the county jail, and while I again try hard not to use first-generation psychotics in patients who didn't come in on them, there are patients who actively request Haldol because they hate how being totally wound up and psychotic feels. I write for them to have as-needed oral doses. This means if they ask the jail nurse for it, they can get it, and it helps immensely.

The leading cause of death for patients with mental illness is heart disease. Antipsychotics tend to cause weight gain, and that is not only psychologically distressing to my patients because we live in a fatphobic world, it's probably related to worsened insulin function. Unfortunately, just putting everyone on an antipsychotic on preventative metformin (a medication that improves insulin sensitivity) also didn't work when we tried it, so we don't do that. But it's scary. I'm actually really hopeful that this new GLP-1 agonist med class that's in constant shortages because it causes weight loss (Ozempic, Wegovy, etc.) will be an option to help improve long-term health for psychotic patients. Some antipsychotics are worse than others for weight gain, but there are few genuine head to head comparisons of effectiveness, so I can't say "X works better than Y," we just have to pick one based on a) my familiarity with it and b) whether it seems like a good idea. I also feel it is better to be fat than dead, so if someone needs one of the more fat-inducing antipsychotics to live their life and/or have a decent quality of life, I'll prescribe it and I fucking dare you to talk shit, I will eat you.

My clinical experience has been that Seroquel and Abilify are the best-tolerated antipsychotics. I don't know why. Someone else might, but those are the ones I usually reach for unless someone is having really severe symptoms, in which case I think risperidone works faster. Data are, again, generally pretty weak.

But mostly I want you to remember that psychosis is not a funny punchline, "psychotic" is a shitty fucking insult to use, and someone you know and love probably has psychosis. Some people have a single break and it never happens again, some people can control it with medication, some people need to be institutionalized. It's a life-changing illness and people with severe psychosis, yes, even the weird ones who scare you, are still human beings whose lives have exactly the same inherent value as yours, and who deserve the exact same inalienable human rights as you do. Any other approach is garbage. Human rights are not negotiable.