#why are these nonexistent people so pretty

[ihopesocomic]

It's such a shame how many good brother-brother duos or sister-brother duos there are compared to sister-sister duos

I know it stems from writers always feeling the need to add a man in every woman's life

A lot of writers can only make a character who's a sister if she's a sister to a brother and it's a real shame

Honestly I think Nothing from MP is a pretty good example of that

Look at her relationship with her female siblings/cousin vs her male siblings/cousin

Fire ended up being horrible and Feather is a toxic positive "lemme make you feel bad for wanting to change your ableist name even though it literally doesnt effect me" dirtbag

But Nothing had a better relationship with vs her younger sisters/cousins

Farleap and Silentstalk bullied her and Feather's sisters thought she was weirdo though they like literally never interacted

It's just always suspicious when a writer seems to prioritize a female character's relationship with guys over her relationship with girls

Like their gender shouldn't matter but they'll always pick their male characters first

The sexism in writing still to this day is wild. Especially where so-called independent creators are concerned. Because I thought the whole point of being indie was creating stuff you wanted to see in mainstream media but didn't get, but a lot of it is just more of the same crap you get from bigger productions. So either people want more sexism, or its just baked into their brain and they don't even realize it.

A lot of better stories out there are about brothers (well, I could argue that a lot of it is lazy and that there is no point to the characters being brothers, especially when strong emotional friendships between men are practically nonexistent in media.) and anything having to do with sisters is as I said, either petty nonsense or there's no point to being sisters at all.

And then there's as you said, an inherent need by creators for women to have men be relevant in their lives when that same standard is not applied to men. You can throw a rock and hit a movie or show with a female pov where her only motivation has to do with a man. Father, son, brother, husband, boyfriend, abuser. Whatever.

That's not to say any of these are bad stories. But when its the majority of supposed woman-focused media, it loses its edge as woman-focused when the women in question are focused on men. The writers either consciously or subsconsciously don't get that women have motivations beyond men. This even happens with lesbian characters, where men should have even less relevancy? LOL And it doesn't even matter who the writers are, whether they're men/women, cis/trans, straight/gay, everyone does this. You'd expect better from queer creators but even then there's a clear preference. And they're wont to bring up that "gender shouldn't matter" but only when it pertains to asking why they're so opposed to women being the focus. Its quite interesting.

MP is in an interesting position of hating both men and women at the same time while not commenting on how the patriarchy has negative effects on both men and women. Not an easy feat but Tribble sure made it look easy. She made Feather Nothing's prime motivator for leaving the pride, and while I have my own criticisms of Nothing's "subtle" motherlyness towards Feather, that wasn't extended to the female cubs. Fire is Nothing's other motivation for leaving the pride, and then he turned out to be a wannabe dictator. Quickmane was shown to be a sympathetic and caring mate who definitely wasn't homophobic, but had no qualms about killing children. And then there's alllllll the women who are meant to be oppressed to the same extent as Nothing, but they all somehow manage to be even worse because the narrative wants us to side with them.

And even Nothing's abusive relationship with Quickmane as we've stated in our review is arguably less fucked up than the relationship she has with her own mother. Because we know what they think about each other, and Powerstrike still insists that Nothing's existence is a burden on her soul or whatever. Like what the fuck is up with that?? I'm sure they could've made Powerstrike less-bad than Quickmane, was this some sort of weird equalizer of the sexes? And you can count Nothing's relationship with Sharptongue if you're so inclined to, but even if you ignore everything else she did, Sharptongue would still be the only positive female influence in Nothing's life. But not a key motivator in Nothing's story. Like not even a little bit.

[aritsukemo]

What it's like with an Mitsuri Kanroji!partner | Akatsuki Members

Characters: Itachi Uchiha, Sasori, Hidan, and Konan

Warnings: Hidan. That said, vulgarity and threats ahead. Reader is heavily implied to be female/fem-bodied!

A/N: Been rewatching Naruto lately ( with my bsf who's watching Naruto for the first time ) and soon plan to rewatch Naruto Shippuden. ( Never finished it.. ) That said, I got the inspo to make this after Itachi and Kisame got introduced! This wasn't meant to exactly be romantic, but you can see these as whatever makes you comfortable! 🙈

Itachi Uchiha

↪ He found you odd, but in a good way.

↪ Being apart of the Akatsuki, he's met and collabrated with some of the most sick in the head and heartless people across the nations and he himself is far from a saint. That said, he was surprised, and quite suspicious, when he first met you.

↪ You were everything the Akatsuki wasn't; as bright and as cheery the sun with a transparent air of innocence to around you to boot.

↪ Everything about you from your smooth, clean, and supple skin to your wide, glossy smile told him that you had yet to see even the smallest slither of the terrors of this world..so why were you here before him squealing and blushing like a little kid?

↪ At first, he thought you were a spy like Orochimaru and were trying to steal information on the Akatsuki or get to him and his eyes, but it didn't take long for his suspicions to be dispelled.

↪ Your first mission together was a test. One that was to prove your loyalty and dependablity to the Akatsuki and during your entire walk, you talked. You never stopped and eagerly hopped to different topics and by the time you reached the village that hid away the Four-Tails, he had learned just about your entire life that you had left behind; how many siblings you had, your two bunnys and three cats you had as a child and their names, and your strange reason for becoming a rogue ninja; to find someone suitable to marry you.

↪ Futhermore, he was able to get the front row show of your abilities. Your Kekkei Genkai was nothing too eye-widening as it simply allowed you to manipulate metal, yet the way you went about using it was nothing he expected. Never did he think someone would use a Kekkei Genkai such as yours to manipulate a whip-like sword nor did he anticipate the utter destruction a weapon like that would cause.

↪ With all that said, your inexperience shone through here and there. You made simple, avoidable mistakes but your sheer power, flexibility—your flexibility especially—and your agility helped you escape majority of what would've been life-threatening injuries.

↪ Then again, you did tell him that you left your village on a whim and basically everything other than your Kekkei Genkai was self-crafted and taught..

↪ Anyways, after your mission was over and done with, you took him out to celebrate! ..And what I mean by that is that you took him to a run-down ramen shop in the middle of nowhere.

↪ It was then that he learned something new about you; that you held the appetite larger than the tailed beast you just killed. You were embarrassed about it, but seeing as Itachi didn't mind, you let yourself run wild and bought two or three ( or was it four? ) of every kind of dish the little shack had to offer! ( It was a rather humorous sight when your meals were set down and your food towered over your head and completely covered your face and body while as Itachi was able to hold his meal—a singlaur dango stick—in his hand )

↪ After that day, his suspicions were pretty much nonexistent. He also deduced that you wore every emotion of yours on your cloud patterned sleeves for the world to see and poured your golden soul onto everyone you met whether it be friend or foe. You were naively open about everything and overall just easy to read, not that he necessarily saw that as a bad thing.

↪ He eventually told you about his past. How he slaughtered his own people and even admitted the true reason behind it. That said, you were sullen for a while after that, having realized that your reason for becoming a dangerous criminal was rather silly and kind of disrespectful in certain ways. Itachi told you that your reason for walking down this path was just as serious/valid as his even if it's not filled with guts, blood, and pain. In a way, he felt like that made you even more fit for this path. ( Because who in their right mind decides to go rogue just to find someone that would be so insanely out of their mind and strong that they'd see you—who has the raw strength to potientally manhandle the nine tails itself and features flashier/brighter than it—as a normal woman?? )

↪ He quickly got used to your fangirling and rants about the others. Although some of them, including himself, he found odd to have you raving about like a lovesick, diehard fan, he took it as one of the many odd things that makes you the person you are. It does make him worry whenever you do it on the battlefield though. ( Times like those tend to end with him swooping you out of danger like some prince charming while gently scolding you which makes you even more flustered and squealy. )

↪ Most of the others view your partnership like a parent looking after their little kid because of how much more mature Itachi is compared to you and how much he ultimately looks after you despite the two of you being around the same age.

↪ Whenever you would throw off your cloak, revealing your embarrassingly revealing outfit underneath, he's quick to grab it—ready to drape it back over you whenever the fight is done and over with.

↪ Doesn't mind your touchiness! After a battle, no matter how simple or difficult, you had a tendency of running over and crashing into him, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a tight hug and he lets you without complaint. Sadly he never reciprocates it, simply patting your head or not touching you at all, deciding to ask you about your wellbeing instead.

↪ Overall, he respects you as a comrade and as a person in general. He commends your resilience and your determination, because never once has he ever met someone who treads a path such as this one do it with a genuine, beaming, sinless smile. Never once has he met someone in this profession shed tears for the ones they strike down and apologize to the cities they ruthlessly trample and mean it with their entire being. Never once has he met someone who's guilt for their actions were just as strong as their conviction..but he can understand it. He can sympathize with you. And he will, though, he wishes that you'll achieve your goal and leave this life behind before it breaks you down, taints your soul, and ultimately kills everything he admires about you.

Sasori ( of the Red Sand )

↪ He thought of you as a complete idiot.

↪ He honestly thought Pain was trying to play some elaborate prank on him at first, that's how much he couldn't believe it.

↪ You were..nothing the Akatsuki stood for and after the first conversation with you, ( that lasted ages by the way ) he went straight to Pain and questioned his decisions only for Pain to simply smirk and say with utmost confidence, "Just wait, you'll see her true worth in due time, Sasori. You simply have to be patient."

↪ And like the loyal dog he was, he did. Despite his impatience, he waited until your first mission was given and you two were sent to retrieve the One-Tail Beast.

↪ During your walk, you never stopped talking. You attempted to get to know your new partner, but as he was rather tight-lipped, the conversation became all about you. Your upbringing, your small, unknown clan, and even more unimportant things that he didn't care for like your siblings and their names, your pets, and your favorite sweets. That in itself was irritating, but what really got to him was how much of a klutz you were. You were rather animated and as you two passed various places to get to Sunagakure, you would often trip or slip, slowing your travels..

↪ There were various moments were he wanted to just impale you on Hiruko's tail and be done with you, but as Pain and his own curiosity insisted, he refrained and patiently awaited the time to witness your true power. And, when he was finally able to witness you completely in the zone, he was completely blown!

↪ He watched from afar, but he was able to see everything from the very moment you whipped out your peculiar sword to the moment you had the Kazekage in your grasp and were escaping.

↪ He was dumbfounded. Your power completely defied any kind of logic he once knew. Your Kekkei Genkai was nothing to gawk at, but the idea of using it to make and manipulate a flacid sword that can cut through and completely destroy even something like sand was as astonishing as it was illogical. He couldn't wrap his head around how it worked nor how you manage to wield such a high-maintenance weapon with such ease.

↪ He was also taken aback by your unique body composition. There was a moment where you miscalculated and were hit with a head on attacks from shinobi—many of which could exploded and should've completely obliterated you—but you came out of the attack completely fine and intact save for some burn marks.

↪ It was then that he was finally able to see what Pain saw in you. It was also the moment he saw you in a different light. He saw you as an actual comrade and not just some hinderance like Tobi.

↪ As you walked back together, Kankuro attacked you after having tailed you for some time. You were ready for the battle, as moved as you were by Kankuro's actions to save his little brother, but Sasori had other plans. Whether watching you fight had fired him up or there was some other reason, he told you to stand down but stay put as it was his turn to 'show off his art to you'.

↪ He went on to destroy Kankuro's puppets and immobilize him, feeling a sense of pride in the way you squealed and eagerly complimented him and his puppet.

↪ On the venture back to the hideout, he was much more open to conversation. After listening to your odd speech about how bad you felt about what you were doing, he asked about your view on what you believe is true art.

↪ "True art? Hm...well I suppose it'd be love!" And you went on to explain that whether platonic or romantic, you believed the art of love was the truest form of art there was as it was completely honest, showed a person's true character, and made people see others in a breathtaking light. That led to your confession behind your reason of joining the Akatsuki; to find someone who shared your views, someone who'd believed in love and all of its aspects and would accept someone as abnormal as you and take you as their bride.

↪ It was honestly laughable how stupid you sounded to him. Nevertheless, your acceptance of others views—no matter how illogical or flat out wrong they were—was something you two shared in common, and to that, he decided not to express his thoughts aloud for once.

↪ You didn't know Sasori for long as he died to the hands of that pink-haired kunoichi and his grandmother some time after you parted to fight the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki and his sensei, Kakashi Hatake, but even in that short of a time, you had left quite the impression on Sasori.

↪ You were immature, innocent, bubbly, and capable of sympathizing with the ones you brought misfortunate to. You were a complete enigma to him in many ways despite how willing you were to tell him everything he wished to know about you and, in a way, he liked that. It added to your charm, as dumb as that sounded coming from him.

↪ Huh, you truly were a work of art in your own right. It's a shame that he had to bite the bullet before you. He's sure that if it were the other way around and he was able to perserve your beauty in wood and silk and turn you into one of his puppets, you would've became his favorite work of art yet.

Hidan

↪ He found you hot as hell.

↪ He didn't care about anything regarding you, the only thing he could think in that moment was how you would look butt ass naked and bouncing on his—

↪ Anyways, he could care less for you pass that, but he was overjoyed that you two were partnered together because that meant he'd have the best view of your tits at all times. How Jashin has blessed him!

↪ Speaking of tits, that's the nickname he chose to refer to you as. It was fitting in his opinion since you always kept your cloak open and the outfit you had on under..well, let's just say that it left little to the imagination. ( Which he loves more than anything because, again, the view it gives him is fantastic! )

↪ On your first mission together, it was realized very quickly that you two were polar opposites and pretty much a complete mismatch for each other in both personality and fighting wise. For reference, Hidan was like a ruthless machine gun that only cared about the rush of the sight of his opponents blood filling his vision and you were like sunflower who brightened everyone day and shed it's petals for all but people like Hidan.

↪ Safe to say that you weren't a big fan of him. Nevertheless, Pain had paired you two together and you couldn't bring yourself to bother him over something like this. ( Especially not after how you embarrassed yourself the first couple times you talked to him! >.< )

↪ Despite your many differences, you did share your story with him as well as your reasons for joining the Akatsuki. And at the face of your heartfelt story, Hidan laughed in your face and insulted you, calling you every name in the book.

↪ He also didn't believe half of what you said. I mean..you? So strong that even the kage of your village couldn't take you? Oh, please! He's sure he can beat your ass in five seconds flat! ( And he stands by that even after watching you manhandle a tailed beast )

↪ He found your worrying annoying. Whenever he would perform rituals, you would whine about him stabbing himself, worried about both him and the soil beneath him that was being mercilessly soiled by his blood. In times like those, he'll yell at you to be quiet 'lest you want to face the wrath of Jashin and yada yada.

↪ Over time, Hidan became more manageable as a partner ( or maybe you simply got so used to him that meany became an incorrect word to describe him as when brought up in conversations ) and from the jump, he wasn't all bad. For example, he didn't care for your big appetite or bright appearance! ( Though, of course, his reasons behind not caring was as vulgar as ever )

↪ He also had moments that showed that he wasn't completely heartless. There was once a time where your opponents caught you off guard and you took a big attack head on. One would think Hidan would laugh at the sight or insult you for getting taken by surprise, but instead, panic coursed through his veins and he frantically called your name and even went as far as yanking you out of danger when the smoke cleared and he realized that the attack knocked you out.

↪ He has also attempted to recruit you to Jashin on occasion. When he first saw you in action, for example. You declined every time, telling him that you had no interest in becoming apart of a religion that would allow someone as cruel and as heartless as him to join. ( He berated you for that one by the way, even went as far as to attempt to slice your head off )

↪ Speaking of which, just because he finds you attractive does not save you from his short temper! He has attacked you on various occasions and once or twice during a battle and no amount of time together will make him like you nearly enough not to attempt to kill you when you even slightly tick him off.

↪ Overall, Hidan was a tough partner to deal with. Nevertheless, you found yourself shedding tears during your escape after finding out he, despite his immortality, died. You didn't hope that his soul would be carried onto the heavens. You didn't say, "Good riddance," and say rot in hell. You didn't even pray that he'd get reborn into this world as a better person. You simply cried. After all, as horrible of a person he was, you'd be lying if you were to say that your dear partner didn't leave little marks of fondness on your heart after a while.. ( And he was just starting to warm up to you too.. :( )

Konan

↪ She found you cute, but peculiar.

↪ You were the first person she ever recruited. When Tobi described you to her, she had some thoughts in mind in terms of the type of person you'd be. You were the princess of a clan unknown to the majority of the world. With that in mind, she thought you'd be rather down to earth, possibly a bit arrogant.

↪ It turns out she was way off. Firstly, you were much more..ebullient, than she expected. Not only that, but your appearance was much bolder than she anticipated..

↪ She wasn't expecting your eager acceptance either. While you did exchange blows initially, you immediately ceased your attacking once you heard more about the Akatsuki—specifically the part about having strong comrades.

↪ On the way back, she quickly realized how talkative you were. In the span of the day it took to get back to the hideout, she had learned virtually everything about you. Not only that, but you were unashamed in complimenting her appearance and jutsu. ( She did find it odd, though, that you grew all flustered when she politely returned the favor. )

↪ She didn't become your partner per say, but you did travel with her many times. Your unique fighting style and overall power and disposition earned you special tasks from Pain, and since the Akatsuki wasn't one to travel by themselves ( and with you two being the only females ), he sent Konan with you on those special missions.

↪ She wasn't one to become comfortable around those she wasn't especially close with, but you made it really hard not to. You were such a warm person that she naturally gravitated towards you which ultimately resulted in the two of you spending a lot time together.

↪ It was sometime during your first or second mission together that you confessed your reason behind joining. You had been feeling guilty after learning the overall goal of the Akatsuki and felt the need to apologize to Konan for joining with the sole intent on using the Akatsuki to lure in capable shinobi and rogues alike who would be crazy enough to take a woman like yourself as a bride.

↪ To your surprise, she didn't scold you nor did she laugh. She simply told you that she didn't mind your reason for joining as long as you would remain loyal to Pain and his ambitions.

↪ She found you rather silly for someone your age. Every once in a while, your mind would fill with these puerile thoughts and you'd go to the extremes acting on them.

↪ For example, there was a time where you grew weak for a while due to your attempts at hiding your appetite. You really liked Konan and thought she was cool ( Same with a lot of the others in the Akatsuki! ) and you feared that you'd put her off or that she'd consider you a risk factor or something and kick you out of the organization.

↪ Konan found out that your sudden lack of strength was due to starvation and when she confronted you about it, you tearfully confessed your fears to which she sighed. ( Because did you honestly think her or Pain would discard you over something like that? ) Not only did she not kick you, but she also took you out to eat, pushing you to order whatever and however much you'd like.

↪ Safe to say that she severely underestimated just how much you could eat. ( You had a mountain of giant bowls and plates that took up the whole entire table the two of you sat at )

↪ There was another time where you two were walking to your next mission and you were noticeably glum and silent the entire way there. She noticed that you refrained from your usual cheery rambling and during the entirety of your mission, you held this weird, scrunched expression.

↪ When questioned why after everything was over and done with, you told her the most surprising reason ever; that you were trying to seem mature and overall more like her.

↪ That was the first time you ever heard her laugh.

↪ She couldn't help it. The whole situation was incredulous to her. I mean, you want to be like her? She can maybe see your reason, but at the same time..why in the world would you do that?

↪ That said, she told you that she prefers you acting like your normal bilthesome self and was more fond of the sight of your face covered in a wide smile. She's flattered that you look up to her so much, but going so far wasn't necessary as it wasn't considered a bother or hindrance to her, Pain, or anyone else.

↪ She honestly did love how passionate you were about everything you did/believed in. Your emotional sensitivity to the people and things around you was something she admired and respected as she had overall grown to have a heart of stone over the years.

↪ She also found your unique fighting style beautiful and fitting for you. To her, it completely encapsulates your style and being, and she has mentally commended you on being able to take such a simple Kekkei Genkai such as Metal Manipulation and mold it into something like this; a weapon that no other could wield even if they had a similar power which is not an easy feat!

↪ When you're not on a mission, you two have spent time once or twice at a hot springs. Konan herself isn't one for such leisure activities, but she couldn't resist you whenever you asked. ( Plus, you managed to find one secluded that had zero knowledge on the Akatsuki and ultimately let you two in without batting an eye to your appearance ) She'll admit that it grew to be a seldom, but enjoyable pass time to partake in with you.

↪ Speaking of which, during one of those rare pass times, she saw the tattoo on your collarbone for the first time. She found it beautiful and when asked, you were more than happy to tell her all she wanted to know. ( Apparently the tattoo grants you unimaginable power and even amongst the people of your clan, it is rare to obtain. It comes with it's costs, but whether it was because of your sheer determination or some other reason, you were able to live long past the twenty-five age limit unlike the others who were granted it. )

↪ Slowly, she watched as her sunflower companion started to shrivel up. With each Akatsuki member that was killed off, you bawled your pretty little eyes out. The more it happened, the more it seem a piece of your heart cracked away. Thankfully, your rapturous personality didn't cease to exist, but Konan could see how each death that occured got to you little by little. She did her best to comfort you each time, but she could only grant you little relief.

↪ You did do something surprising, however, promising to her that you'd be her and Pain's knight and shining armor and keep them protected and alive. It was a tall order, but she humored you for the chance to see you revert back to normal.

↪ Alas, it seems that tall order was even taller in reality. Pain—or, I guess it would be better to call him by his actual name, Nagato—died, albeit of his own volition.

↪ Konan told you not to blame yourself, but you found yourself doing it anyway. Lately it seemed that all you've managed to do is get in the way and get others hurt trying to save you..and Konan could tell from a mile a day that you were thinking that.

↪ And so, after calling a truce with Naruto, she invited you to come with her back to Amegakure and work as her second in command which you ended up accepting, wanting to at least do the bare minimum of protecting her.

↪ During that small time of peace, it was nice. Amegakure saw you as the Angel's spear and praised your beauty and strength. Even then, your guilt didn't settle, if anything it ate away at you for relaxing/doing menial task while the others who passed fought long, hard battles and died fighting for what they stood for.

↪ In the end, you were finally given relief as you were soon killed by Tobi. You fought as best you could and lost half of your limbs doing your best to protect Konan and the secret of where Nagato's corpse's laid. You didn't want to go so soon, especially so quickly after the battle had begun, but your senses were dulling at a rapid rate and your blood was pooling out of you from various angles.

↪ Not everything was bad though. You died in the arms of the one who's comforted you the most throughout the years; Konan. And, even at that point, despite your uselessness, she smiled and thanked you for everything you had done and told you to rest.

↪ You didn't feel as though you deserved such kindness from her, but you didn't have the strength to fight her at that point and ended up passing away with tears rolling down your bloody, wet face..

↪ Konan loved everything about you. To her, you were the true angel, shielding everyone with your golden wings even when they began to wear down and tear. You were the light that illuminated the darkness that was the Akatsuki—her world—and she's forever grateful to fate that led you two together.

↪ You were pure—purer than the life you led. She hopes that in the next you'll have better, even if that meant she wouldn't be reborn alongside you to see it.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[davinawritings]

I have a request!

An angel (that looks somewhere between biblically accurate and humanoid) that fails in resisting temptation with a fem reader's breasts starts to grow triple in size and lactate uncontrollably. She's asking him for help and he helps himself to her tits and pussy ;)

Hi! Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! 🖤💕❤️

Pairing: Male Angel X Fem Reader

Warnings: Sex, Unprotected Sex, Lactation Kink, Breast Expansion Kink, Dub-Con

Word Count: 1770

There is no one that knows you that would disagree with the fact that you were not the smartest person. From small things like still believing the moon followed you while driving in the car to more serious things like following strangers to their car with the promise of seeing a puppy, your common sense and self awareness was pretty much nonexistent. Unfortunately you were just a very kind and trusting person. You never really saw the bad in people, wanting to see and believe in the good. Your father often told you that you lived in your own little fantasy world of puppies, unicorns, and butterflies.

That's probably why you had your own guardian angel. Such a kind and sweet soul needed protecting. Most of the time you couldn't see him. Occasionally you had gotten small glimpses of eyes or part of his body as he retreated but most of the time he remained unseen. There was one time where a man had guided you into a dark alley with the promise of petting his new dog. You were so excited but your guardian angel appeared before you. It had startled you at first. His appearance was not what you thought it would be. He did look mostly human but he had more eyes. They covered multiple parts of his body and they were all trained on you. He had formally introduced himself as Abdiel, your guardian angel.He then pulled you away from the alley with a few scolding words as he guided you home safely before disappearing from your sight once again.

Today you had been out shopping at a small market when you came upon a booth with vials of liquid. The old woman seemed to scan you up and down before picking up a vial and holding it out towards you. “What does it do?” you asked the nice woman. She looks at you with a crooked grin and informs you, “ it is to make your breast bigger. A beautiful girl like you should have beautiful breasts to match”. Now this was something that had always been a small insecurity of yours. Small boobs were beautiful but you never felt like yours fit your body. So naturally you bought the small vial without hesitation. Most of the time these things don’t work anyway but there was no harm in trying. As you paid, the woman said, “Follow the instructions on the back of the vial and don't stray from them if you know what is good for you”. You thank her and leave the market for home.

After arriving home and putting your new buys away you look at the vial. Deciding that there is no time like the present, you pull out the cork and down the contents. You wait a few minutes to see if you feel any changes but unfortunately there were none. You sit on the couch looking for a movie when your tits start to tingle. Looking down you are shocked to see they went up a cup size. This is great! They look amazing.

Before your very eyes they start to grow a little more and you pull your sundress away from your chest to see a small bead of milk dripping from your left breast. You panic slightly and grab the vial, turning it over to see if it said anything about lactating. Turning it over you see:

Directions: Dilute 2-4 drops in 8 ounces of water for 1 cup size growth or 6-8 drops in 8 ounces of water for 2 cups size growth. Repeat once a month to maintain desired size.

Warning: Do not take more than recommended. Taking more than recommended can lead to overly enlarged breasts, hypersensitivity of breast tissue and nipples, and high volume of milk production.

You panic and look back at your breast to see they have already grown some more. You had started at a small A-cup but were now already at a full C-cup and they didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. They were already so big they were barely concealed in the cups of your sundress. Already on the verge of spilling out. You called out to Abdiel, not knowing what else to do.

He appeared moments later looking like he was about to speak and greet you when his jaw just dropped wide open. He seemed to collect himself asking, “What has happened? What did you do?”.

You reply with tears in your eyes, explaining the vial you bought from the market and that you drank the entire thing. He grabs the vial shaking his head as he reads over the directions and warning. He looks at you and he cannot help the hardening of his cock. He is your guardian angel. He knows this is wrong and he is supposed to be pure but looking at you like this is truly testing him.

Your breasts are already pretty big and all he wants is to feel them and suck on them. They are straining against your dress which now has two large wet patches where your tits are. He knows he needs to get you help but he also knows he cannot be the one to do it. He can’t see you like this and resist. It will be too much for him to resist. His cock is already twitching and pulsing with desire. He has never reacted like this to anything.

He opens his mouth to tell you that he will go find another Angel that will be able to help you. Before he can get the words out your breasts grow again and burst over the neckline of your sundress. You whimper at the cool air hitting your wet nipples and his restraint leaves him.

Tears fall from your eyes in tandem with the milk dripping from your nipples. “Please Abdiel. Please help me. I don’t know what to do. They just keep growing and they are getting sore”.

He moves toward you and places his hands on your tits. Even his first gentle touch makes you whimper and also sends arousal to your pussy. He grips more firmly and watches as the higher pressure makes the milk spray out of your fat tit. He can't hold back his moan as it coats his hand. You sigh at the slight relief and he moves to sit on the couch. You follow after, refusing to be out of touching distance from him.

He grabs you and places you on his lap straddling his thighs. “Alright, I am going to help you and you need to be a good girl and follow my instructions for me. Okay?”. You nod eagerly, relief being the only thing on your mind. “We are going to work on draining all the milk from you to try and relieve the pressure. Lift your hips”, he says as he pulls his cock out of his pants. Once his cock is free you feel him place his tip at your entrance. You give him a questioning look but he just says, “I’m going to stimulate you here so your body is relaxed and the milk will come out easier.”. You nod your agreement, putting your trust in your guardian angel, afterall he is hundreds of years old, he must know what he is doing.

Before he pulls you down on his cock he grabs your right tit giving it a harsh squeeze causing you to let out a yelp. He ignores you as he collects some of the milk and rubs it along his cock. He moans at the sensation and begins to pull you down. He knows how wrong this is. He is breaking his vows, doing what no angel is supposed to do, and also taking advantage of you. None of it seems to matter though as he feels your tight walls swallow up his cock. Heaven didn’t compare to being inside your pussy.

Abdiel knows he needs to work fast. He knows he won’t last long with the way you grip and massage his cock. He tells you to bounce as he works on your tits. At this point they have gotten so big that he needs two hands for one tit alone so he begins by massaging your left tit causing you to moan. The milk sprays out and covers his chest, dripping down to his pelvis. It mixes with the arousal that is dripping down his cock from your dripping cunt.

Not wanting to neglect your right breast, he takes it in his mouth and begins to suck. He groans at the slightly sweet flavor and feels his cock pulse in your warm walls. You are moaning on every thrust now, calling out his name as his cock hits that one spot deep inside you that has you clenching over and over.

He almost wants to let out a whimper as he drinks from you. The combination of your sweet milk dripping down his throat combined with your tight cunt and your milk covering him and dripping between you is too much for him. You feel his cock start twitching, swelling even bigger than before. He lets out a loud groan, never ceasing his actions.

He cums, filling your pussy while draining your tits. He bites down gently on your nipple while pinching the other and your back arches. You let out a scream of his name as you cum hard. Your pussy gushes over him, your juices combining with your milk in his lap and dripping onto the couch below.

You bouncing slows to a stop as exhaustion overwhelms you. Abdiel finishes sucking on your tits. The milk seems to have stopped for now. He holds you in his arms but can't seem to regret what has happened. He doesn’t think he will be able to go back to life as it was before. He needs your tits, your milk, and your pussy.

You lean on his milk covered chest, resting your head on his shoulder. As you drift off in his arms he just sits there praying that your breasts will continue to leak. According to the vile he should have you like this for at least another month. After that he will just have to find the woman at the market and obtain the vials himself. Afterall, you will still think it is your fault and he’s just helping you if he sneaks it into your drink each month. For all you know your mistake caused a permanent change in your breasts. He’s just continuing to be your angel and take care of you.

🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤

I hope everyone likes it! Let me know what you think!

🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤

[snapscube]

so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.

my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.

obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.

of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.

and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!

sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.

this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.

also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ bark like you want it !!

ᝰ.ᐟ in the world of sports, there's only one thing people care more about than getting hot 'n sweaty with the athletes: the girlies who are the ones these men are running home to. alternatively: a headcanon post about the hyper-specific wag!reader the bllk boys would end up with. ( fem!reader & sfw )

featuring yoichi isagi, reo mikage, seishiro nagi, rensuke kunigami, rin itoshi author's notes since wives and girlfriends is wag + the song has been stuck in my head, i thought 'bark like you want it' was a silly, cute name for the post lol. warning that isagi's section mentions having kids!!!!

౨ৎ YOICHI ISAGI — the girl next door !! your dynamic is: the two of you have known each other since childhood, and throughout every stage of his life and career, you've been right by his side. when isagi confesses to you shortly after scoring the winning goal of the u-20 match, he's a blushing, awkward, stuttering mess. despite his newfound fame and notoriety (which will only continue to grow), yoichi isagi is still the same boy you've spent living next door to since your elementary days. when he goes pro and becomes a world famous athlete, surrounded by models and actresses, the only girl to still give him butterflies is you. you love him for him. in every speech he has to give, he's always singing praises about you and your unconditional support and love. the wedding you two have is intimate and fairly private, although isagi can't help but post a picture of the two of you outside the obgyn clinic with the cheesy caption of "my baby is having a baby!!!! 😍😁"

the girlies love you because: you're what people think of when someone describes someone as being down to earth. your social media presence is nonexistent, save for a private instagram with less than 200 followers. you live your life in peace with a man who doesn't stress you out in the slightest — in fact, your relationship with isagi is aspirational to a lot of people. one of the number one athletes in the world and super hot 'n rich, and the only thought that rivals soccer on his one-track mind is you, his wife that he's hopelessly devoted to. you're always seen at every single one of his games, sporting his jersey, and always cheering happily when he scores. once the two of you have kids, you'll be carrying your baby (who's also sporting isagi's jersey🥹) every one of his fans that happens to run into you in public can see why isagi is so in love with you; there are only stories about how kind and sweet you are. it's why you're known as the sweetheart of the soccer wags <3

౨ৎ REO MIKAGE — the ceo !! your dynamic is: an arranged marriage... gone right? you belong to a conglomerate family that runs in the same circle as the mikages. you're in the middle of starting up your own beauty brand, and you're trying to make a name for yourself. reo is occupied with his professional soccer career. neither of you want to go through with this marriage interview, but to appease your families, you two agree, not expecting that you two would match each other's freak for real. he's competitive and likes what he can't have; you're little miss independent and equally competitive. he tells you he doesn't mind the engagement, and you get your lawyers to draft a pretty prenup that'll milk him for all he's worth while keeping your assets safe. he buys you a massive engagement ring, and you ask him, "that's the best you can do?" the minute he's in control of mikage corp, he knows he'll gladly let you take the reins.

the girlies love you because: you are the corporate it girl. everyone is obsessed with your paparazzi photos that exude office siren but make it actually work appropriate. there are how-to videos on copying your style. not to mention, you're a businesswoman. every time you attend one of reo's games, you strategically reapply your beauty brand's lipgloss, or tease new products by applying said unreleased products while on camera. someone once asked you in a comment how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? to which you replied @.reomikage how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? just because your man spoils you doesn't mean you put him on a pedestal. princess treatment is the bare minimum for you.

౨ৎ SEISHIRO NAGI — the twitch streamer !! your dynamic is: so silly. you're the type of girl who looks good even with pimple patches on your face and your oversized glasses that you only wear because it has blue light blocking lenses on them. you're a well known streamer and got your start during the peak of fortnite (you started off being comically bad at the game, but again: you're a pretty girl. you being good would've just exploded every guys' brains), but once you got your bag secured, you started posting the content you preferred (dress to impress on roblox). everyone loves you because you're hilarious on camera, but you don't really keep up with sports, so when nagi joins your stream, everyone is going insane but you have no clue as to who he is. when they start spamming the chat about him, you ask your viewers "is he hot? no, scratch that. is he rich?" you've always been nagi's online crush & you basically made his whole entire month when you asked him to join you on your instagram live one day. the whole entire time, he's looking at you on the screen with literal hearts in his eyes, and he struggles to fight back his smile. it's so difficult for him to maintain a neutral expression, and this is the most any of his fans have ever heard him speak, and the comments can't stop talking about "how geeked bro is rn"

the girlies love you because: just like isagi's wag, you are a genuine sweetheart. you never hard launch nagi, but you do tease confirmation on your relationship. you'll wear one of his hoodies that people know is his, or sometimes you'll stream when nagi is over and people can see his shoulder in the frame or they'll hear him say something to you to make you laugh. you post pictures of your view of the field, usually captioning it with something like "damn. i could be going crazy on sims 4 rn" you're just such a fun person to watch, and people consider you + nagi to be their comfort couple (although most of the comforting energy comes from you and your antics).

౨ৎ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI — the pilates instructor !! your dynamic is: fun and flirty, and straight out of a romcom. you're a well-known pilates instructor and in an attempt to get more girls to garner an interest in the sports channel, the network reaches out to you to see if you want to be in a humorous segment where you try to host a pilates class with some of the pro sports team. these guys are all about bulking and lifting and stamina training, and they don't really hold pilates in a high regard, so the comedy could be there. you obviously agree, and you end up teaching kunigami's team first. he can barely concentrate on the class and fumbles a few times because he's too focused on how good you look in your lululemon hot pink set. he's trying so hard to be respectful, and when you talk to him after the class, thanking him for being one of the only guys to not look down on pilates before they had to endure a session, he's trying so hard to avert his gaze because the sight of you slightly sweaty and in your workout clothes is doing something to him. you love teasing him, and the fact that he's a gentleman and still believes in chivalry makes it all the more fun.

the girlies love you because: besides making working out fun, you feature kunigami in some videos and always tease him by making up and demonstrating some freaky positions that always have him turning red in the face. you're always so considerate and supportive of your followers, and in return, they're always supportive of your own endeavors. when you come out with your own workout line, you put your boyfriend's famous name and hot body to use. he's in your marketing campaign, but honestly, the videos of him looking at you when you're wearing your own workout set is advertisement enough.

౨ৎ RIN ITOSHI — the unbothered model !! your dynamic is: centered on the concept of private not secret. neither of you get too personal on social media; you just post aesthetic photos and sponsored content for revolve & rin's socials are managed by a team. like everyone else in the world with decent eyesight, rin's struck by your beauty. unlike most of the guys who are attracted to you, though, rin stands out. for starters, he actually has the confidence to approach you. even better: he's actually polite when he does. normally, the ones bold enough to approach you are bold and loud and kinda sleazy. rin is nothing like that. underneath both yours and his cold exterior, the two of you actually share some of the same niche interests. rin's a pretty intense person on the field and to the public, and there's not a single photo on the internet where you can be seen smiling. the aura the two of you have when paired together is insane... insanely intimidating. he's also the person you're most comfortable with and vice versa. the two of you can be messy and unfiltered and annoying with each other, and no one else.

the girlies love you because: you serve effortless cool girl. at every game you attend to watch rin, not once do the cameras catch you off guard. side profile? stunning. catching your usual neutral expression morph into concern and shock as rin gets shoved by an opponent? you still look insanely good. your hair is always done, nails are always done, your outfits are always fitted and put the other wags to shame. when girls think of iconic partners of athletes, you're always the first on their mind. there are tiktok tutorials that are trying to teach people how to emulate your energy, "[name] outfit inspo", or makeup videos trying to recreate your look. photos of you at rin's game is on every girl's "wag dream life" pinterest board, but the most popular photo is a grainy image someone managed to capture. it's taken after rin's game, and the two of you snuck off to the back of the stadium to be alone. he has his arms wrapped around your waist, and your arms are around his shoulders, and his forehead is pressed against yours and... it's the only photo where people have seen either of you smiling.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Becoming His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x concubine!reader

Summary: Feyd chooses you as his concubine

Notes/Warnings: Smut (but not an overwhelming amount), so 18+. Possessiveness (ownership of other human beings and whatnot). It changes from third person perspective to second person, so i’m sorry if that irritates some people, but I just thought that it expressed the feelings of the story better, considering the tonal switch. This is based on a request. Sorry if there are typos.

It can be read as stand-alone, but it goes along with the following fics: His, Don't Touch What's His, and Only His. This fic takes place before any of those.

Words: 2400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Feyd was sent for peace. The Baron sees use in House Wallach and very specifically instructed his favorite nephew to arrange a deal. With House Wallach’s planet producing items of value, the Baron would not attempt domination over their world in exchange for those items. That seemed fair—as fair as the Harkonnens get—but if one party fails to deliver, consequences follow. Sometimes, that means the taking of other items of value.

They aren’t prisoners of war—they can’t be considered such when war did not actually occur—but they’re close enough: women taken from their home planet after their leaders failed to protect them, leaving them weak and vulnerable and unprepared for what their new lives will thrust upon them. For the first time in their blip of existence, they are a foreigner's property; the most humiliating of circumstances for women of their status: three high-ranking handmaids, the live-in bene gesserit, and the daughter of their Lord and Lady. And Feyd has to choose one. 

“It’s within your right,” the Baron tells him. “And expected. To turn them away without taking one for yourself would be a showing of weakness.”

Feyd scans each one. He supposes they’re all appealing in their own ways. The handmaids were raised to obey, an ability Feyd would have them exercise often. The bene gesserit has knowledge beyond her years. And the benefits of owning an heir of a Great House can be summed up by title alone. 

However, they have their faults as well. The handmaids aren’t particularly beautiful, and as they stand there, shaking, huddled together, with their eyes down and chins tucked into their chests, Feyd finds them grossly undesirable. If he wanted a mouse, he would take one of his own servants. 

The bene gesserit, regardless of appearance, is a witch whose most vital loyalty will belong to the Reverend Mother and her followers before House Harkonnen—a traitorous snake in the making. He cannot have a woman in his bed that he will be unable to trust.  

The one remaining, the Lady, she’s fearless. He can see it already in the set pout of her pretty lips. He doesn’t like fearlessness; it’s disrespectful, potentially disobedient, but at the same time, she encapsulates everything else he could want: a face he doesn’t hate to look upon, to say the very least; nobility, a reminder that he claimed something invaluable to an entire planet; and perhaps most intriguing: she’ll be a challenge—not easily torn down—and the more he looks at her, the more the others fade into nonexistence. 

Feyd steps closer to her, drawn in by delicate features, and waves of hair, and luscious curves. 

“This one,” he says. 

With those two words, a spark shoots across her irises. Her knitted brow soothes. Her mouth, now unburdened by the weight of the pout, twitches up in the corners. There’s a hint of a dimple in her right cheek that is there and then gone, taken from him before he can fully understand why his heart thumped at the sight of it. 

“Fine,” the Baron replies. 

Commanding his guards, he says, “Rid of the others,” prompting gasps and tears of fear, and even Feyd is unsure what will become of them. Slaves? Entertainment in the arena? Perhaps his uncle will let him feed them to his pets.

To his servants, the Baron says, “Clean her up.”

And to his nephew, he says, “She’ll be brought to you later,” just before two small Harkonnen women take her by the arms and lead her away.

—

He thought all afternoon of the noises he would soon be forcing from you. The yelps, the squeals, the cracking from your grinding teeth. Everyone’s flesh makes a unique sound when sliced open, and he imagined what sound your flesh would make. The masterpiece your face would be after your tears melt your makeup he’d be proud to claim as his work. 

But then his servants bring you to him. They push you through the door and position you in front of him before skittering away, and in the silence they leave behind, Feyd can only detect his own heartbeat. 

He liked you in the pinkish-toned clothing traditional of your house—it made you stick out amongst the darkness surrounding you, like uncorrupted sweetness in its last moments—but in Harkonnen black, you’re something else entirely. 

He’s read of goddesses and angels, deities and divine spirits lost with those who once worshipped them, and he always wondered how such beings cultivated mass devotion without the consistent doling out of immense pain. But he gets it now. He understands the draw of the ethereal. 

After minutes of staring, his eyes feel dry, scratchy; he needs to blink, he needs to close his parted mouth, but he can’t, nor can he form a coherent thought separated from the way your hair frames your face and how the silk cascading down your body doesn’t do a perfect job of hiding everything underneath. Touch. He wants to touch. Run hands over soft skin. Press his lips to–

He stops himself. That’s wrong. He is meant to sink his teeth into you. He should be digging his nails into flesh, draining blood, staining sheets, licking tears from cheeks like the men before him have done to their concubines. 

She’s yours, so train her well—that’s what his uncle said, and Feyd knows for a fact that the Harkonnen method of training a woman is devoid of anything but pure torture. Harkonnen training is rough, crude, brutal on the body and mind to break someone down. Only the strong build themselves back up into warriors—like he did—and concubines are not meant to attempt that feat.

“Am I going to stand here all night?”

Your voice sends a chill down his spine, yanking him out of his head. He finally blinks. As his eyes meet yours, he swallows and says, “Do you want to stand there all night?”

“Not particularly,” you tell him. “And I don’t think your servants spent hours fixing me up just so I can take post like a statue at the foot of your bed.”

He wouldn’t mind a statue in your likeness, actually. He’d feel a lot less conflicted if he had two of you at his disposal; one for what a concubine is meant for, and one unaltered from the way you are right now—no pain in your eyes, no quiver to your lip, no marks marring your skin. 

“They did not,” he confirms. 

He pushes off the desk he had been leaning against and uncrosses his arms as he steps toward you, stopping just before colliding with your body. Your head tilts back, and he knows he is supposed to smirk at your powerlessness; his eyes should be pouring with the promises of a painful future, but he can’t access that otherwise always-accessible emotion. The hatred is not quite there. The vile pool of black sludge that has resided within him from the moment he pierced his mother’s throat with a blade has started to drain because of the doe eyes that stare up at him. 

“I’m not scared of you,” he hears, and for a second, he cannot tell if the words came from your mouth or from his. But you don’t reply, so that must be his role.

“It's stupid not to be scared of me.”

“Maybe,” you say, your head cocking, “but you don't look at me like you want me to be scared of you.”

That right there—he should kill you for that. You see too much. He wonders if you see his thoughts as well. He doesn’t need a woman with eyes that see more than what is tangibly in front of her. 

Instead of his body operating on its own, he has to force his hand to wrap around the neck of the threat before him. But five seconds of the delicate column in his grasp goes by, and then ten, and then fifteen, and his fingers have yet to squeeze any tighter. Surprise is etched onto your face, but it’s different. It’s not the look of a woman suddenly in a vulnerable position. By the way your eyes trail from his face to bicep to forearm, it’s more like you’re shocked that his touch is as warm as it is, as if you expected the paleness of his skin to mean hot blood does not course through his veins. 

Tentatively, your hands reach up until your palms are cupping his cheeks. He can’t bring himself to jerk away as your tongue slides out to wet your lips and you rise on your toes. You gently tilt his head down to yours, and then you brush your mouth over his. 

Feyd’s lungs tighten in his chest as you do it again. The hand around your neck slides into your hair, holding your head in place so he can take more, kiss harder. But it’s not long that he’s devouring your taste before he comes to his senses and shoves you away. 

“Stop that,” he spits, his brow drawn. “I did not tell you to do that.” 

Your teeth trap your bottom lip. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“Lay on the bed,” he says, then quickly adds, “On your stomach.” It’s better that way. If he isn’t focusing on you, your eyes, your lips, then he won’t be distracted from his own pleasure.

You don’t hesitate to do as he says, and you walk past him to the mattress. He doesn’t turn to watch you shed your thin gown, fearing what the combined vision of face and bare body will do to him, so he works on removing his own clothes, facing you only once he hears the shifting of the coverings on his bed. 

Your arms are bent, hands overlapped under your head as you wait for him to join, and after taking in the curvature of spine and the dip in lower back before the swell of bottom, he does, settling behind you. 

He doesn’t know where to start. There’s so much to take in and he does his best to memorize it all until, eventually, he lets his palm slide up the center of your back. When it causes you to shiver, he rips his hand away.

“It wasn’t bad,” you tell him. “I’m fine.”

Feyd hums in a manner intended to come off much more displeased than it does. He didn’t ask if you were fine, and a scolding is on the tip of his tongue for even suggesting the idea, but the piece of him that knows he would’ve stopped if you had said the opposite keeps the words from reaching past his throat.

Feyd tries once more, this time placing his hand at your hip for purchase as he guides himself inside of you with the other. With great effort, he swallows his gasp before he falls forward on clenched fists that press into the mattress on either side of your breasts. 

You’re warmer than he expected. Tight and slick and warm, and amidst the sensations that take over his entire being, he somehow manages to find enough clarity to question the normalcy of your body. 

Harkonnen women aren’t warm like this. Warm, yes, but your warmth is more comforting, more engulfing. He’ll feel an unpleasant chill when he removes himself from you and so decides it might be best to stay right there inside of you for as long as he can. But after he hears the little sound you make through the ringing in his ears, he doesn’t know how much longer that will be.

He pulls out slightly and then pushes in, and he receives another of your sounds, louder this time. Your hips lift an inch off the mattress, pushing back into his. He thrusts again and his brain fuzzes. When he shoves in deeper, you yelp at the spot he hits and he loses his mind entirely, left with the sole desire to see how many notes he can get you to sing for him. He finds there are many more, and as you continue to belt out a chorus along with each of his movements, he suddenly thinks: fuck everything else. Fuck the things he is supposed to be doing to you. Fuck the lessons he is supposed to be teaching you. Fuck the training that is supposed to be putting you in your place. He needs to see you. 

Your head lifts and you look back at him as best you can when he leaves your body. “Why did you st–”

“Turn over,” he demands with heavy breaths.

“What?”

You’re not fast enough. His hands firmly grip your hips and he flips you onto your back, spreading your legs and stuffing himself back inside of you. You moan. Your eyelashes flutter. Your mouth stays perfectly parted as you reach over your head to tighten your fingers into the pillow. 

That’s exactly what he wanted, and that’s all it takes to shun his cares for anything other than the way you look beneath him. His chest meets yours and he darts his tongue out to lick the bottom of your upper lip before capturing your mouth with his. You kiss him just as much as he is kissing you. You touch him as much as he is touching you. Your legs wrap around him, taking everything he has until his hips stutter and he’s coating the walls that are milking him with each pulsating squeeze. 

He pulls out with ragged breaths, body falling beside yours, and as you both stare at the ceiling, his mind finally clears with the sudden realization that what he just did might’ve stolen some of his power and handed it to you. You know of the Harkonnens’ cruelty—everyone does—but what he gave you was not that, and he cannot allow you to get the wrong impression.

“You're mine,” he reminds you. “I own you. You follow my orders. Don’t irritate me. Don’t speak unless I am the one speaking to you. You go where I tell you to go. You do what I want you to do. And don’t get any ideas that you’re not disposable to me.”

Minutes pass in silence, but then you say, “What happens if you end up liking me?”

That question hits him right in the gut. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what the fuck happens if he likes you more than he already does. It won’t do him any good; he knows that. 

His back teeth clench. “I won't,” he says. “So don’t ever ask me that again.”

[harrysonlylover]

A Family Guy*

Summary: Harry’s self control flew out of the window as soon as he heard news concerning his Fiancée’s fertility.

Trope: CEO!Harry

Warnings: Breeding Kink, smut.

WC: 3k

A/n: This is an old writing! I edited as much as I could.

Masterlist

Harry Styles is a busy man.

He runs a manufacturing company that gained a reputation in the industry without any effort. Pleasing was nurtured from his love for pleasure and lust. He dedicated the past five years to growing his business and making sure it’s known to everyone.

Many CEOs who become well-known and have hundreds of employees under their hands, tend to sit back and ignore their duties now that they have people to do their job. Harry despised those types of people and would not consider them businessmen.

He loved going to his office every day, it was a reminder of what he achieved and will continue to do. He loves greeting his employees as he walks inside the building, making sure that everyone is pleased with their job and that dissatisfaction is nonexistent.

Working is not something that he dislikes, he managed to remain a respectful gentleman instead of loading up his work on everyone. Perhaps that is why his company is successful, every single person does only what their designated major allows them to do, Harry grants them fair bonuses and vacations and is a nice boss. The safe environment he created was a huge factor in his success.

However, without his own inventions, Pleasing is merely a name. The only thing in the company that is solely managed by him and only him is the sex toys. Pleasing’s fame came from a controversial ad where Harry appeared nude in a photoshoot with only his hand covering his hip. The more he was criticized, the more products he invented.

The ones he first began to make were the regular ones: dildos, straps ins, and vibrators. But everyone noted the shift in his inventions and how he came up with things that radiated pure lust. Little does everyone know that it was all thanks to Y/n.

She and Harry met at his sex club, they had fun along with other members and that night was the best in his life. Not because it was an orgy, he’s been involved in many ones before, but her sexual energy had him mesmerized.

He waited for her to return and asked her out, he was apprehensive of her answer and thought she’d prefer to keep things strictly sexual, but when she told him she’d only accept if he made her cum in five minutes, he knew that he found his future wife.

After that, she became his muse as Pleasing’s name rose to fame and became the number-one sex toy company in the world. He created Panty Vibrators to tease her in public, long-distance sex toys for when he’s traveling, suction toys to watch her wither before him, transparent plugs that suck in his cum so that he can watch how his seed is stored inside her, butt plugs with all initials but only so he can see ‘H’ sitting pretty at her entrance, a double penetration vibrator that he uses as a ‘warm up’, vibrating dildos that he inserts in one of her holes while fucking the other, and last but not least cotton panties with ‘Daddy’ printed on the ass.

Their sexual energies were connected on a whole other level, she was confident with her body and preferences, but still encountered rude hookups from time to time. It’s safe to say that Harry worships her in and out of the bedroom.

Despite being a very sexual person, he also does not fail to show his romantic side every day. She’s glad to say that she has found her man, which is why it wasn’t a surprise when she said yes to his proposal after only one year of dating.

Recently, they’ve been both busy with a tiring schedule that barely allows them to see each other, but that didn’t stop them from at least cuddling at night or preparing breakfast for one another.

Harry is opening his first branch in another country and he’s been preparing for over 6 months now. It’s been sitting on the top of his head along with wedding preparations which is why she took over them.

Thankfully she and him communicate well, she is also aware of how work requires him to be present in his office a lot. Harry vowed to her that after the branch’s opening, he would hire a few people to take over some things and help him run the company. He wants to dedicate his time to her and his future family.

He never tried to hide his desire to have children, in fact, he’s quite obsessed with the idea. He even asks her if the babies would look more like him or her, and what features would they inherit. She could see how he pouts when they’re shopping and he spots infant clothes with cute little bows.

On the other hand, she can’t wait for him to impregnate her. She never told him that she had a breeding kink but only because she didn’t know of it. To think that he wants to pin her down and fill her up again and again, care for her, and be the reason her belly and breasts swell makes her go crazy.

Her fiancée, a healthy man in body and mind, who treats her like his own queen, knows how to manhandle her only when she wants to and goes down on his knees for her is also the man she’d allow to breed her at any given moment.

The wedding preparations were pushed a few months into Summer so that Harry’s branch opening would be smooth, but that didn’t stop Y/n from taking a few health tests to ensure that all was well before the wedding.

Harry was to return home early tonight as promised, so she finished cooking his favorite dinner, cleaned up, and changed into comfier clothes on time right as he walked into their shared apartment.

“Sweetheart? I need a kiss.” He whined dramatically and she knew that he was going to pretend to be hurt so she could love on him.

“I’m in the kitchen.” She replied with a smile already forming on her face.

Harry followed her voice to the kitchen where she was moving the chicken onto a serving dish. She could feel his body moving towards her until his scent became too consuming and his arms wrapped around her body.

“It feels so good to come home to you.” He mumbled as he breathed in her hair.

She hummed making sure to not spill the food as she hugged him back. Harry pressed himself on her ass making her let out a gasp. They haven’t had sex in nearly a week which counts as a year for the two of them.

“Baby let’s leave our activities till after dinner.” She spun around to face him, cradling his face in her hands as she pressed a kiss to his lips.

He began helping her by preparing the dining table, cleaning up, and putting everything in its place while she placed the food on the table. Harry spotted a prescription paper near her handbag and got concerned when he saw that it was from the gynecologist.

“Baby, Did you visit Dr. Martins? Are you okay?” He stood next to her with a worried expression as he awaited her response.

“Yes love it was my regular checkup, and it happened that my tests came out so we talked and he gave me some vitamins.” She assured him as his jaw immediately relaxed.

“So all is well?”

“Yes, I promise, the vitamins are just a supplement. He even told me that I happen to be more fertile than average.” Harry was relieved to hear her reassurance, however, his ears perked up at her last sentence.

“What did you say?” He asked to make sure she was not pranking him.

“I’m more fertile than average.” Y/n mixed the salad as she repeated her words, forgetting all about Harry’s breeding kink.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as she told him she could easily get pregnant—casually while making food as she stood in his oversized shirt and no panties on.

He slowly walked over to her, with his hands in his pockets and suit adorning his body. His body trapped hers and he removed the spatula from her hands making her catch his attention.

“Did you just inform me that you’re suitable for breeding and expect me to stay quiet about it? Hmm?” His voice immediately shifted into the deep raspy version, the one that tells her he entered ‘Daddy’ mode.

She immediately realized what was going on as a gasp left her lips, she didn’t even bat an eye when the doctor informed her having forgotten all about the breeding kink. Harry stared back at her with darkened pupils as his hand traced her thighs.

“You were planning on hiding from me the fact that this cunt is fertile? That it can take my seed and give me a child in one year?” He cupped her pussy and buried his face in her neck as his tobacco vanilla perfume overwhelmed her nostrils. She had to process what was happening rapidly as she still couldn’t get over how the doctor’s news didn’t ring a bell for her.

“Baby it slipped my mind.” She panted as he pressed hungry wet kisses to her neck, trying not to think about how his clad ring hand can cup her cunt and cover it, reaching up to her ass.

“It’s okay darling, the only thing slipping will be my cock from how much I’m gonna fill you up.”

Everything was now falling into place as Harry stimulated her breeding kink and she realized the importance of the doctor’s words. She humped against his hand as she clutched onto his toned biceps that are bulging through his Gucci suit.

“Please put a baby inside of me.” Y/n pulled him in as she began feeling submissive and in need of her fiancée to manhandle her.

“You don’t know what you’re in for. I’m gonna give you everything. Do you hear me?” The dinner was now long discarded as Harry picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist before heading to the bedroom.

She can feel her pussy pulsating and clenching around nothing at the thought of him giving you a child, he’s too indulged in kissing as he lays her down on the silk sheets before taking off her shirt and his suit.

“Baby tell me you want this. Do you want me to get you pregnant?” He whispered with his forehead against hers, seeking her consent knowing that she was off birth control and could be ovulating.

“Yes, I need it .” She almost cried as she felt Harry’s skin on hers with his hard cock leaking on her thigh.

“Oh poor baby, can’t fight your instinct to be a mother, can you? I’m gonna make you the most spoiled mother. Give you my seed whenever you want it, you’ll use my cock and take what belongs to you.” He sucked on her nipples with labored breaths as the wetness in between her thighs was now too much to ignore.

“Harry I want you inside of me, I can’t take it anymore.” She whined in pain trying to reach for Harry’s cock.

“I know I know, let me fill you up.” He guided his cock to her entrance, lubricating the tip with her wetness as his eyes darkened at the thought of her cunt flooding with his cum.

He pushed himself inside her, making her let out a scream of pleasure at the burn and feeling of fullness. Harry could never be able to get over the feeling of stretching his fiancée out, especially when he’s doing it to breed her.

“Fuck baby you have the tightest cunt. Will need to keep stretching you out so you can push our child out.” He groaned as her walls sucked him inside.

With or without prep, she was always ready to take him not minding the burn from his length. Yet this time, she could feel something so different from all the other times, something was tugging at her heart, as Harry closed any gap existent between them and felt each other skin to skin.

“My girl, make me a father.” He was pleading with every thrust he gave, while she whined beneath him. The heat she felt where they were connected along with Harry’s weight on her, his grip on her hips and tongue lapping at hers made her want to cry. Being overwhelmed with emotions never felt this good.

“I feel so full” She cried out as Harry kissed her temple going deep inside of her.

Harry couldn’t think straight when she told him how fertile she was, he saw nothing in front of him but her bump protruding from her sundress, her breasts swelling and lactating because of him.

His primal instinct came out unintentionally as he plunged inside her easily, as her wetness made him more feral. It didn’t take her long to get wet, and he was sure she was soaking the sheets from the sound of their shared arousal echoing through the room.

“I’ll put a ring on your finger and take you out to show everyone that I made you pregnant, fuck you over and over again till I don’t have any cum left inside of me.” He kissed her ring finger as his heart thumped against his chest from his love for her.

His plunges only got deeper making her gasp as his tip reached her stomach, while her legs wrapped around his hips prompting him to fill her up. They were both greedy when it came to physical contact, never getting enough of each other.

The veins on his shaft scratched the itch she never knew she had, and her walls kept contracting around him uncontrollably, she was already tight as it was but the squeezing made Harry let out a groan.

“Had to get it deep inside you so it can catch.” He pressed on the skin of her belly, moaning as he felt the bulge of his thick cock.

“Fuck me harder—fill me up with your cum.” Her words were incoherent as her brain felt fuzzy from the pleasure.

Usually, Harry would last much longer, there were times when they’d spend the night in each other’s arms as they recharge their energy for more rounds. But now, the pleasure he’s feeling is simply too much for him, just when he thought that his stamina was tough, she casually told him that she was extremely fertile.

“I’ll keep stuffing you until I’m drained.” He let out an animalistic groan as he released thick ropes of cum painting her walls white.

His cum reached deep inside of her, while she moaned at the load he gave her, it was like his cock refused to let her go and was adamant on breeding her. Y/n was sure that his cum was now soaking the sheets, as it leaked from where they were connected to her thighs.

“Fuck Harry that’s a lot.” Her orgasm washed over he body from the feeling of his cum filling her cunt. Her nails scratched his back unintentionally as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Harry arched his back slightly, as he raised his hips and hers in a vertical position before placing a pillow beneath her hips. He prepped kisses on her face in between ‘ I love you’ and ‘Thank you’.

He kept himself buried inside of her, afraid that he’d spill anything. If he wants a baby then he’s going to give her everything. He would never be upset if it took many tries, heck it would mean more breeding sessions. But he can’t help feeding his primal instinct and giving in to impregnating her.

“You can pull out if you want .” She stroked his hair and kissed the pout on his lips that indicated how his refusal to part from her.

He lifted himself slowly and looked down to where they were connected as he reluctantly pulled out after asking her to ‘squeeze her cunt and hold it in’. The sight before him had him rolling his eyes as he watched his cum covered cock slowly leave her cunt that was swimming with his seed.

She immediately clenched her thighs together but there was simply too much of his load to keep that she didn’t even feel empty when he pulled out. Harry noted how the more she clenched her pussy, the more cum came out and leaked down to her asshole.

“Look at your pathetic cunt filled with my cum, you want to me breed you so bad don’t you?” He caught some of his arousal using his fingers and plunged it back inside her pussy.

Y/n’s hands gripped the sheets feeling his creamy cum flood her cunt while he kept fingering her as her shared arousal leaked onto his engagement ring.

“You should go the bathroom baby.” He lifted her body and cradled her in his arms.

“Just a bit more—“ She promised him to get up exactly in five minutes as he held her and pressed kissed to her chest.

“I’m gonna spoil you and our baby so bad, buy you everything, and watch as you grow life inside of you. I’ll keep giving you babies for as long as you want, all you have to do is ask and I’ll have the world at your feet.” He mumbled sweet nothings, kissing her engagement ring and smiling at her necklace that was holding his initial.

Harry was over the moon at the thought of starting a family with her, he thanked her for being the woman of his dreams and already the most beautiful mother. All that he owned in life whether property or assets was irrelevant when it came to her.

After all, Harry Styles is a busy man, but never for his family.

Please reblog if you liked it!

Taglist: @babegoals @hotnhardrrry @mattieshattuck1

[normal-thoughts-official]

It's actually insane how brave Wyll is when it comes to Mizora. Not only by not killing Karlach but also all the small ways he defies her - calling her an asshole, saying she's full of shit, even when Mizora is literally choking him he's still telling her that she's a liar. Whenever she shows up it's pretty much guaranteed that she will have to threaten him with lemurehood because he simply refuses to play nice. Even if it accomplishes absolutely nothing and in fact is actively dangerous to sass her

And like. Of course this ties in with how Wyll has pretty much nonexistent self preservation skills and a sense of moral fortitude so strong he can't even pretend to not be hostile towards her. But i also think it ties with Mizora's obsession with him

Because while we all know Mizora is evil and annoying on principle and all that shit, she seems to be particularly interested in tormenting Wyll. I have to assume shit like putting a tracker on him and showing up randomly just to spite him and staying in camp just to be annoying even after the contract is over are Wyll specials, because if she did this to every single one of her warlocks then she would have time for nothing the fuck else. And we know from Karlach that she's generally more worried about sucking Zariel's toes, so

(Also, I've been told that in early access she was like... Straight up jealous if you romanced Wyll, so, again. Obsessed with him in particular)

I always got the impression that she was so evil and annoying to him because she was overcompensating. Mizora is a cambion, which means she's half human, which means that in Hell's hierarchy she is fucking trash. Even the official cambion lore states that they are often rejected in both realms and struggle to earn one of their parents' approval. And it's obvious that in Mizora's case she's aiming to be accepted in the Hells.

I've seen some people claim that Mizora is too cartoonishly evil, and while that is objectively true... I think it works precisely because it's so cartoonish. I'm thinking particularly of how she describes her home in the Hells being all "oh, how I adore it, the delicious agony of it all". It's so over the top it's eyeroll worthy. I don't think Zariel herself would be Like This about it

In other words: Mizora is a tryhard

And Karlach even implies that Mizora resented her because she was Zariel's favorite, which is why I think Mizora's tryhardness was intentional as opposed to just a lazily written villain. She wants to fit in the Hells so bad it makes her look stupid. And she never will, because no matter how over the top she is about being Generically Evil, she is simply not that powerful or important.

So she overcompensates, and then she uses Wyll as her punching bag. If her own superiors will always see her as vermin, then at least she can cope with that by treating others that way as well.

But like I said, she will have no time left to suck Zariel's toes if she spends all her time tormenting every single warlock under her patronage, so the question is: why Wyll?

Obviously his unwavering goodness is the biggest reason. His soul is already damned and yet he refuses to be selfish with the time he has left on the material plane. Mizora can own him, but she can't corrupt him, and that makes her hate him. The fact that even despite her best efforts he is still recognized and beloved as a hero has got to sting too, considering she tries so fucking hard to be the Evilest Cashier In Hell or whatever. And the fact that he still manages to belong in his world (however isolated and lonely he obviously is) despite his connection to hers and she can't belong in her world because of her connection to his... Well, jealousy is to be expected.

But I think his refusal to play nice with her also plays a big role.

There's the obvious "this makes her resent him even more" factor; if Mizora wants to feel superior, it must piss her off to no end that Wyll refuses to bow to her, even if he does her bidding.

But, paradoxically, this also makes her feel more powerful.

Because at the end of the day, she does own Wyll's soul, and he does have to do her bidding, even if he doesn't go quietly. And the fact that he hates her so openly makes it all the more satisfying to have him do what she wants anyway. In Wyll's words, "the more bullshit she pulls, the more [he's] forced to swallow". His hatred for her is exactly why she wants him so bad, even though she obviously hates him just as much.

And so this is why she's so desperate to get Wyll's soul back, and why, even if he breaks the pact, she still makes it a point to stay in camp just to fucking spite him. Because Wyll is the only warlock that actually makes her feel appropriately Powerful and Evil, if we assume that her other warlocks are simply not as good aligned as Good Alignment Georg or even just don't want the trouble of spiting her for no reason. She can be obeyed and tolerated and maybe even revered by the other warlocks, but only Wyll can make her feel like an absolute, inescapable power. Because the other warlocks choose to obey her. Wyll makes it clear that he has to, and thus, she feels like she is mighty.

And obviously I know that the whole "person who has it all is obsessed with the one person who doesn't obey them" trope is a well known cliche, but I think Mizora and Wyll's dynamic is unique in that Mizora doesn't actually want to make Wyll bow to her and respect her as an authority; she wants him to fight back so she can feel like she's winning.

(And, of course, because Mizora doesn't actually have it all; she's just a petty errand girl who wants to feel special)

So, yeah. Wyll's incredible bravery in constantly defying her is exactly why she is so eager to keep him

[changetyre]

So what if its the reader and lando are enemies (but both are teammates at mclaren) they absolutely despise each other for no reason and it’ll stay that way (none of this hidden love masked by feelings stuff this time) and they both get stuck in a closet at hq or something and they dont get out for a while. its rlly small in there so there bodies are almost touching always and one thing leads to another but its just steamy stuff but while they still hate eachother but they keep hitting there body parts on stuff in the closet and it keeps getting them more riled up so they just decide to stop?

idk why its so specific or why i thought of this rn but i need it 🙏 feel free to change anything if you’re not comfortable or have other ideas (again sorry about it being a bit long)

i rlly love ur writing 💗honestly so excited to read this one🫶✨

What the f*** did we just do? II Lando Norris x Driver!Reader Ⓦ

SUMMARY: Working with someone you dislike is one thing, but working with someone who brings nothing but the worst side out of you is the hardest thing on the planet.

WARNINGS: **18+**, not proofread, hate.

A/N: Quite short but still hope you enjoy ;)

"You are truly the biggest fucking idiot I have ever met in my entire life." It took everything in you not to punch the man in front of you right now after he once again had successfully taken you both out of the race because he couldn't bear the thought of

"I'm the idiot?!" Lando yelled back at you. "You're the one who couldn't put her fucking ego aside for one fucking second to let the faster car through!" He followed after you as you attempted to get away from him.

The people at McLaren knew it wasn't pretty between you too even on a regular day so whenever you were angry at each other it was best to let you hash it out which meant the rooms and hallways quickly emptied as soon as they saw you both walk in.

"Faster car." you laughed obnoxiously loud. "Maybe that cup did more damage than you imagined-" You gestured to the small cut on his nose. "Since it seems you can't read the data right anymore." You continued laughing at him which only fueled his anger.

"The only thing doing damage to me is you!" He yelled to you again as he kept following you.

You weren't exactly where you were going only hoping he would leave you alone as you opened an unfamiliar door walking into darkness.

"Then maybe you should just-" You were interrupted as you walked into a shelf, Lando bumping into you soon after as you were enveloped in darkness after the door closed after you.

"What the fu*ck, watch out!" Lando muttered annoyed as he attempted to walk back only to hit the door.

"You're the one who's following me around like a lost fucking puppy." You reminded him as you reached for your phone to get some light.

Lando beat you to it lighting up the place and showing the tiny electrical room you had walked into.

"Why the hell did you even walk in here?" He asked you.

"I was trying to get away from you dipshit." You shoved past him as best as you could in the tiny space feeling parts of him that made you gag as you went to try to open the door.

"It's locked from the outside genius don't you think I already tried that?" Lando gestured to the nonexistent door knob.

"HELP! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" You banged on the door yelling hoping someone would hear you.

"OW! Shut the fuck up!" Lando was startled by your screaming.

"I am not staying in here with you another second." You shuffled looking back at him before shuffling again towards the door.

"Shit stop moving." Lando held your waist stilling you.

"Eww get your hands off me!" You slapped his hand away.

"JUST stop moving!" He grits his teeth.

You were about to turn back but felt something in the back of your ass. Once you realized what it was you were ready to yell back at him.

"I swear to god if you don't stop moving-" Lando tried to stop you as you began turning around.

"You're so fucking disgusting, what is your-" Your breath hitched as his hand rubbed at your front all of a sudden.

"This is your fault!" Lando tried cupping himself to stop you from rubbing against him without realizing his hand was pressing against your slit now.

"We have to get out of here-" Lando moved his hand again making your breath hitch again and you thrust forward unintentionally searching for more friction.

"What just-" Lando realized what his hand had grazed this time. "Are you really-"

"You have no right no speak right now!" You reminded him of his own predicament.

"I cannot walk out of here right now with this." Lando pointed the lamp down at the large bulge in his pants.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?!" You angrily asked him.

"Don't think you can walk out of here with this either!" Lando pressed his finger to your wet core. You grasped his hand tightly.

"Sh*t don't-" You stilled his hand but his finger still pressed against you.

"You're not exactly helping here." He pointed the light back to his bulge which you noticed got tighter.

"Eww, take care of that and I'll take care of myself." You turned back around looking for anything to dry yourself with as Lando proceeded to unzip his pants freeing himself.

"What the f-" You felt Lando's dick against your ass. "Is that?"

"Where the fuck do you expect me to put it?!" Lando defended himself, the lack of space really making this impossible.

You shimmied turning back around realizing this only made it worse as his tip now pressed between your legs directly on your clit.

"Shit, this isn't helping." Lando's head fell back in pleasure.

"Mmm-" You couldn't hold back the moan. "Let's just get this done with fast." You suggested as you opened your legs slightly letting his dick slide between your legs a little further.

"Agh fuck!" Lando was taken aback by the unexpected friction.

"You're gonna get my jeans dirty!" you complained.

"Then take them off!" Lando bit back.

"Turn the light off!" You yelled back at him.

"Fine!" Lando reluctantly agreed shutting off his phone. He heard as your pants unzipped before you moved back slightly as you pulled your pants down.

He expected to feel your bear skin against his dick but what he certainly didn't expect was feeling your folds over his dick moments later.

"Holy sh*t." Lando moaned breathlessly as he could feel your wetness coat his member.

"Let's just hurry up" You said equally breathless thankful you couldn't see anything right now, hoping to imagine Lando was someone else right now and not the person you despised the most on this planet.

You felt Lando pull back as much as the room allowed him before moving forward his dick rubbing against you.

You moaned in pleasure enjoying the friction attempting to move as much as you could too.

"This would go faster if I could just-" Lando started.

"Don't even think about it." You knew what he'd suggest and embarrassingly enough you knew you would finish faster too if he slipped inside you but the thought repulsed you too much still.

"Fine," Lando muttered angrily as you felt him grip your waist and pull you against him as he began thrusting back and forward faster.

You would've complained but the pleasure was too good for you to try to stop it.

"Agh shit-" You moaned as you could feel the knot starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

"Fuck I'm close." Lando panted and you were getting lost in the pleasure.

Your mind was in a haze you forgot who was doing this as your eyes squeezed shut in delight.

"Just fuck me already!" You asked him, a momentary lapse in judgment you had no further time to process as you felt Lando slip inside of you.

"Agh fuck you're so tight." Lando would've cum just from the feeling right then if it wasn't for the reminder that it was you he was inside of.

"Just go harder and shut up." You muttered as Lando obliged picking up the pace and fucking into you.

"Hmm- ahhh- harder!" You were reaching your high and only hoped Lando was near too.

"He began thrusting faster and no more than a few seconds later your legs trembled as you came on his dick, Lando following soon after as he came inside of you. You felt his cum fill you up as you came down from your high trembling at the sensitiveness." You tried catching your breath as Lando pulled out.

A few seconds later the post-orgasm clarity hit you both realizing what had just happened.

"Ewww what the fuck did we just do!" You screamed at him as you could feel his cum start dripping out of you giving you shivers of disgust.

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" Lando was also mortified as he felt your wetness around him as he tried to tuck himself away.

Lando banged at the door harder as you grabbed your phone calling for help. You had to get out of here and take a bath in bleach now!

[fettuccin-e]

Filthy Whispers

I absolutely hc that Steve motherfucking Harrington has a filthy mouth and doesn't even realize it,,, like he just gets so pussydrunk that his brain-to-mouth filter is just nonexistent,, so here we go besties (Tags: Steve Harrington x Reader, unprotected piv, size kink, hints of breeding kink and exhibitionism kink, fem!reader)

With his pretty doe eyes and soft hair and penchant for taking hapless kids under his wing, it’s easy to assume that Steve Harrington is as vanilla as they come. It’s easy to think that under the polo shirts and parental rolls of his eyes that Steve probably just likes it slow and steady, missionary and almost marital.

Anyone who assumes that is fucking stupid.

Steve likes missionary, of course, but it isn’t slow and soft, it isn’t ‘making love.’

No, Steve likes missionary because it means that he can fucking fold you in half, pressing your thighs against your tits while he hooks your calves over his shoulders. He likes being able to lick into your sticky mouth, your pretty lips gaping open over punched out moans while he fucks his fat cock into your dripping pussy.

And despite his stuffy upbringing, his polos and mother-hen tendencies, Steve Harrington has the filthiest mouth you’ve ever heard.

“Goddamn, baby, you hear that? Hear how this sweet pussy is sucking me in? Jesus, sweetheart, been thinking about you all day. Wanted to fuck you over the counter at work, just pull your panties to the side and slide my cock in,” he murmurs into your mouth. He doesn’t wait for any responses to his questions, he just keeps talking and talking while your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“You’d take me in, wouldn’t you baby? Take me all the way inside your little cunt? People would walk into the store, just wanting a movie, right baby? But they’d get a whole different show, sweetheart. Cause I wouldn’t stop; I’d keep fucking you even as people walked in, and I bet you’d scream sweetheart, God. You’re so fucking desperate to be filled up, you’d let me fuck you in front of strangers, anything to get to this cock, right baby?”

You nod deliriously, barely registering Steve’s words he stretches you out so good, reaching so deep inside. Your chest is heaving with the effort it takes to get air into your lungs, only for the air to get knocked out again by each one of Steve’s brutal thrusts. 

“Jesus, you’re fucking dripping, sweetheart. Just gushing over this cock, shit, you’re so fucking hot. Need this pussy all the time, y’feel so good wrapped around me. Wanna- wanna be buried deep in this cunt, all the time baby. Gonna fuck you all the time, sweetheart, just keep  you stuffed full with my cum, dripping out just to fuck it back in. Gotta get you off that birth control baby, so I can get you pregnant, fuck-”

Steve cuts himself off with a deep groan, almost surprised at his own words. You both knew you wanted kids, maybe in a few years, when you moved out of your shitty apartment and bought a house, maybe got a dog. But the thought of you, all swollen and heavy with your kid, fuck, it’s got Steve lightheaded. 

You sob as Steve somehow starts to shove himself in harder, tears streaming from your eyes as you claw at his back. “Steve, Steve, I can’t- It’s too much, oh god-”

“Fuck yeah, take it baby,” Steve mutters. He snakes a hand between you to rub your clit, chuckling like the bastard he is when your hands shoot down to grip his wrist tightly, stopping his motions. “C’mon, baby, why aren’t you letting me play with you? Little pussy is just begging for it, clutching onto me so well. She wants me to fill her up, right? You want it baby, I know you do. Shit, I’ll get you all heavy and pregnant, keep you at home while these pretty tits,” he leans down to bite one of your breasts, bouncing with the force of his thrusts, “get all filled up with milk. Shit, and you’ll just be ready for me all of the time. I’ll fuck you when I get home from work, every night, filling you up with cum while your stomach just gets bigger and bigger.”

Steve resumes playing with your puffy clit, even as you try to hold his hand steady. “You wanna be my little housewife, baby? I know you do, sweet girl, fuck.” Steve doesn’t even fucking feel like he’s real anymore, only existing to fuck you full, breed you up. He feels like a fucking animal, ruthless and barbaric as sweat drips down his forehead and his hips drive forward to claim you in the most primal way he can imagine.

“Gonna- gonna fill this pussy up. My pussy,” Steve grunts, “You’re mine right, baby? Say you’re mine.”

You barely have enough sanity to respond, “Yours, Steve. ‘M all yours.”

“That’s right baby. You’re mine. And I’m yours, you got that? I’m all yours, every part of me. My body, my mind, my soul, it’s fucking yours. God, you’re so perfect, so stunning, can’t- I can’t believe you’re mine, my perfect fucking baby, Christ-”

You open your bleary eyes to see Steve above you, eyes clenched shut, still mumbling. You know Steve, you know that sometimes he starts to spiral when he gets like this, all overstimulated and cock aching as he tries to hold off for you, the hot clutch of your cunt too much for him to bear. You reach a hand up to clutch at the hairs on the back of his head, smiling softly when his eyes snap open.

“Fill me up, baby. Want you to stuff me full with your cum, stretch me out till I’m gaping for you. Fuck Steve, I want you to own me.”

And Steve whines, high-pitched in the back of his throat, before he buries his face in the crook of your neck whispering, “God, you’ve got a fucking filthy mouth, baby.”

And you almost laugh, you would have, if Steve didn’t snap his hips at just the right angle, jamming the head of his cock right into your sweet spot. Steve, calling your mouth filthy. It’s almost comical. But you know that Steve barely even realizes what he says to you half the time, too lost in the sopping hot wetness of your cunt to filter his words. His mouth just runs when he fucks you, unfettered, giving you a glimpse into his deepest thoughts of you and your pretty body.

“Cum, sweet baby,” Steve whispers. “Gotta feel you squeeze around my cock, wanna see you fucking scream.”

And you have no choice but to follow his orders, screaming as you finally cum, pussy fluttering around Steve, still hammering deep into you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so sexy. Gotta, gotta get one of those video cameras, yeah? Gotta film you falling apart like this, fuck you while we watch it, you look so pretty, oh fuck.” Steve’s eyes clench shut again as his hips still, spilling his cum deep into your overstimulated pussy, gasping out your name. 

He slumps heavily on top of you, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. You giggle at him softly when he looks up into your eyes, his cheeks all flushed and eyes sleepy.

“You think we’ve got enough money right now for one of those new camcorder things?” Steve whispers, moving to lay next to you. You wince minutely as he slides out, and Steve lays an apologetic kiss on your shoulder before he tugs you close to him, your bodies melding together.

“Stevie, baby,” you say, brushing a hand through his soft, albeit sweaty, hair. “If you keep fucking me like that, I’ll buy you ten camcorders.”

[tallulah477]

Hunting the Tawtute

Kinktober Day 19: Threesome

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting

Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)

A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.

Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey. 

Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute -  Human

Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Sevin - Pretty

Vrrtep - Demon

Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)

The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away. 

You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi. 

You’re lucky to even be alive right now. 

You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety. 

You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you. 

“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”

The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest. 

“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”

The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line. 

A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being. 

You are going to die. 

You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live. 

You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.

The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.

“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”

With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second. 

“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction. 

You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.

“Better run faster, human!”

“Getting tired already, baby?”

“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”

“We’re going to get you!”

Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey. 

Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi. 

The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room. 

“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”

“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”

You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you. 

“Bullshit,” You spit.

The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”

The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?

“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over. 

They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you. 

“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”

More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”

“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”

Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over. 

“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.

“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”

Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible. 

“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”

You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.

Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.

It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”

The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well. 

“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties. 

Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.

“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”

“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.

“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp. 

“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”

“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”

In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles. 

The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.

Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit. 

“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.

You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.

Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.  

You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face. 

Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”

His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own. 

“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already. 

When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.

Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.

“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”

“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly. 

Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face. 

“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask. 

You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”

“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”

There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open. 

The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle. 

And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.

“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass. 

Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.

“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”

His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds. 

Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.

Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.

You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy. 

He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.

“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”

“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”

You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.

Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity. 

It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.

You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen. 

“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”

Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit. 

You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub. 

“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.

His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop. 

“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”

“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”

“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”

“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”

Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone. 

You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”

“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”

Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. 

Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.

Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you. 

“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”

The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth. 

“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”

His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls. 

You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”

He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open. 

“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”

“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”

“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock -  a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.

Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.

“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”

“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother. 

Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”

Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”

His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.

He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest. 

They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release. 

You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be. 

“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression. 

There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .

“You’re ours now,”

Extra>>>

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife

[fateandloveentwined]

wuxia, xianxia, and cultivation differences meta

translations: wuxia 武俠, xianxia 仙俠, and cultivation 修真/修仙 (xīuzhēn/xīuxiān)

think i've seen posts on this eons ago, and i'm pretty sure there are tons of these online, but since this has been written up already let's just have another one.

wuxia 武俠

wuxia and xianxia sound similar, but basically for wuxia it is about the pugilistic world (江湖 jiānghú). It is relatively more down-to-earth, and people practice martial arts ("kungfu") in their current life -- they do not do it to become xians (仙) and gods (神) however.

Like Thousand Autumns and Faraway Wanderers/Word of Honor, it has more historical background and ties to the current court and kingdoms, because people are living in the moment and concern themselves with worldly issues.

Martial arts may seem unrealistic, but in view of chinese fantasy it would be considered "real". It consists of fighting moves and internal energy, which they call qi or nèigōng (內功), and at times you see people flying around, climbing hills and jumping across rooftops which is qīnggōng (輕功).

xianxia 仙俠

A level up would be xianxia, where characters in the story cultivate to become xians (and gods, like in the heaven official's blessing). They don't really care about earthly issues here now, because their ambitions lie beyond the current world, and cultivation, getting stronger, and an immortal life are majorly all their goals.

You may not always see them working towards that purpose, such as in mdzs they are considered a lower-xianxia society (低魔), meaning people don't go through all the steps of cultivation and only stay at the stage before the "golden core" stage.

In xianxia, characters still learn basic fighting moves aka. martial arts, but to direct the internal energy they use línglì (灵力), zhēnqì (真气), and fǎlì (法力), all xianxia terms you commonly see. "neigong" is practically nonexistent in this genre. That's why people building up their "neigong" instead of "lingli" are likely never going to be able to cultivate.

cultivation 修真/修仙

A subgenre in the xianxia category would be cultivation. Characters actively go through the stages of cultivation, and likely for the MC, because they are the main character, they successfully become a xian and exit the world at the end of the novel.

There are many stages of cultivation, usually defined at the beginning of the novel in the synopsis, and a typical example of the different levels would be this:

练气，筑基，金丹，元婴，化神，炼虚，合体，大乘，渡劫

And with a cursory search, an English translation would be something like this, albeit not with all the cultivation ranks identified.

Qi condensation (练气), Foundation establishment (筑基), Core Formation (金丹), Nascent Soul (元婴), and the names after that vary too greatly with translation and fandom so I'll jump straight to Immortal Ascension

extra info: getting into the philosophy of it all

It'd be interesting to note that the word "xiá" (俠) permeates all these genres. This is something akin to the concept of "hero", but not at all also, and I'd love to speak more on this but this post has already gone way longer than I hoped it would be, so perhaps another day.

Regardless, it is interesting to note that wuxia has a greater emphasis on "xia" than xianxia. (some joke that cultivation doesn't have the word "xia" in it, and much of that is because characters have foregone heroism and focused on gaining powers and working towards ascension instead). As a result, wuxia is more confucianism-oriented, though not without its taoism and buddhism influences.

xianxia, on the other hand, is mainly derived from "dào" (道), from taoism, which is another lengthy concept if I ever get to it.

And some may have heard of the "farming" genre, 种田 (zhòngtián). This has to do with golden fingers (mary sues) in imperialistic china, earning a wealth of money, and all that. It has nothing to do with cultivation, alike they sound in english.

that's it for now, hmu if you wish to ask/discuss!

(and apologies for the pinyin translations, hope it's understandable still! formally writing pinyin they are supposed to be two separate words not one.)

[chelseeebe]

falling.

a/n: wow man, i truly am awful but i’ve been very ill and very busy and have seriously neglected writing so have a lil something i wrote to ease back into it! it’s a continuation of seven minutes in heaven and on my knees (for you) but is very much fluff and lovely<3

18+ mdni. smut. mentions of r being drunk but mostly just love and fluff<3

everybody knew.

or at least now they did.

there’s not much room for secrets when you’re drunk and clambering all over him in front of a room full of your friends, was there?

eddie’s never seen you so.. loose. the bottle of wine had ignited something within you, clearly. your fingers twisting into his shirt, sticky, gloss-covered lips attached to his neck.

he’s grateful that your leg is slung over his lap, hiding the uncomfortable rising in his pants, made worse by your constant fidgeting and the soft whispers into his ear.

it wasn’t as if you two were much of a secret anymore anyway, robin, nancy and vickie had all figured it out that day he answered your door in his boxers. and now at least most people had caught on.

“i need you eds,” you whisper sultrily, not a care for his poor growing boner. there are only so many dead puppies you can think of before it stops working, by the way.

“we can’t..” trust, he had already surveyed the house and decided that sneaking off would be highly risky, too much chance for interruption to make it worthwhile.

“we can,” you beg, practically growling into his ear, “let’s go home,” fingertips now dancing down his shirt, dangerously nearing the waistband of his jeans.

he blinks, turning his head to face yours, noses bumping against each other, “it’s not even ten.. we can’t leave yet,” he wouldn’t have sex with you like this anyway, too much pinot grigio coursing through your veins to make it right.

you huff, nostrils flaring in your tiny tantrum, “you’re so mean,” jutting your bottom lip out.

eddie’s eyes dart around the room, catching a few stray looks, people confused about your position or why you were practically straddling him of all people. “people are looking at us..” and the thing is, no matter how many times you could tell him that you wanted him, no matter how many times you showed him that you wanted him, he wouldn’t believe it.

“i don’t care,” you scoff, connecting your lips hastily, a new feat compared to the sly neck kisses you’d been giving prior.

it had never been about hiding for you, more so about keeping things just for you two. nobody else needed an opinion or opportunity to ruin things, that was it. but now, the longer you continued to hang out and enjoy each other’s company outside of fucking, the more he felt himself falling.

now, eddie reckons he was probably in love with you from the second you’d dragged him into that closet but now he’s pretty certain he is. it’s different now, a level of consideration there that wasn’t ever apparent before.

it had been solidified for him a couple weekends ago during a game of spin the bottle, when it had landed on you and then subsequently jason. eddie’s heart stopped beating until you swerved his mouth, landing a small peck on his cheek in place of a real kiss.

that was different.

“please can we go,” you beg, fisting the soft material of his shirt, keeping your lips lingering over his.

he clears his throat, and really, you should know him by now. you should know that an ounce of attention from you would result in a stiffy he couldn’t shake. his eyes fall to his crotch, “i can’t.. i can’t get up,” cheeks flushing a ruby red.

your eyes join his, peering down between your leg and his stomach, a grin spreading across your devilish face, “i can fix that,” tilting his chin upwards with your painted nail, “if we go home.”

his forehead knocks against yours, giving up on this nonexistent fight with you, “fine, give me.. five,” hoping he somewhat hide his indiscretion from your friend’s prying eyes.

he does eventually, get off the chair, craftily readjusting his pants as you gather your bag. robin’s head perks up, brows raised at the sight of you leaving already, “i’m gonna walk her home.. too much to drink i think..” wrapping an arm around your shoulder, guiding you through the party and out onto the street.

the front yard is littered with drunks, paying no mind to you and your unsteady feet.

you’re so loud, giggling as eddie attempts to rein you in, a tight grip on your arm while you wobble over the sidewalk.

“hey,” you pout, stopping in your tracks. fuck, he just wanted to get home, as much as he adored whatever antics you were up to, he was freezing his balls off and you’re plastered.

“what?” he replies softly because no matter how annoyed he was, he’d never take it out on you.

your eyes are hazy, glossed over and barely able to focus on him but they’re full of love, “all i want to do is kiss you,” lopsided grin growing bigger.

eddie just smiles because there are no words he could ever jumble together to reply to that. not the way you deserved anyway.

“can i?”

how could he say no?

with your eyes round and glittering in the moonlight, lips pouted perfectly.

“of course you can,” he laughs, hooking his arm around your shoulder, pausing just before your lips meet his, revelling in the moment.

you press your lips to his, a little sloppy but full of love, tender and soft. you smile as you pull back, gripping onto his leather jacket, “we can go home now,” smiling into the night.

eddie feels a little sick. he hopes to god that he’s right about this, that you feel the same way he does. all signs point to yes but how’s he to know without your confirmation?

-

he’s abruptly awoken when the bathroom door slams shut, a collection of unpleasant sounds come from the other side.

he’s not surprised you’re sick, in fact, he’d left a your trash can to the side of the bed last night, just in case.

see, eddie’s not really an early riser but he doesn’t mind being woken up this early when he’s being woken up by you. vomit or no vomit.

you emerge from the bathroom with a colossal pout and a minty breath. sliding back into bed with a small groan. “did i wake you?” you ask, nestling back into his side.

“mhm,” he hums, appreciating the warmth you bring, “i don’t mind, you okay?” he asks, sliding an arm around your shoulders.

“i am now,” smiling slightly. your hand creeps down, making him jump as your cold fingers rest on his stomach.

he watches with tired eyes, hoping this is going where he thinks it may. your hands, despite feeling frozen, are always soft, he adored the tender way in which they met his skin.

you hum, body vibrating against the side of his body, “go brush your teeth,” poking him lightly in the ribs.

“yes ma’am,” eddie practically leaps out of bed, following your orders in hopes that you were implying what he thought. scrubbing his teeth with such ferocity that the toothpaste ends up everywhere.

he’d clean it up later, he thought. too excited to jump back into bed with you to care too much.

you’re already smirking in the low light, propped up slightly by the pillows, holding the blanket open for his return, “hurry up, it’s cold.”

oh he obliges, flying to the bed in record speed, hovering above your waiting body, boyish grin plastered across his face. perhaps one day he wouldn’t almost die every time you suggested sex or flashed him that look.

that day was not today.

your lips latch onto his, hands already finding his sweatpants, delicate fingers hooking into the waistband as you tug them down. he’s already hard, hasn’t been able to program that out of his brain just yet.

eddie’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, sliding inside and it’s this moment where he’s grateful you made him get up to brush his teeth.

your hand, still a little cold, wraps around his cock, eliciting a gasp in response, pulling him from your lips. “fuck, your hands are cold,” eddie laughs in your face, quickly forgetting the icy temperature when you start pumping your fist.

“you want me to stop?” you ask, smirking devilishly.

“fuck no,” he chuckles, burying his face in your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. this gets you fired up, squeezing the base of his cock gently.

your head tilts back, allowing him more room to nibble and lick at your bare neck. he struggles to get your shorts down, grunting into your chest when your hips buck upwards against him.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, emerging from the curve of your neck to gaze down at you, his absolute favourite position.

you don’t reply, instead, your tongue pokes out, licking your lips in anticipation. your legs wrap around his back, pulling him in tighter. personal space was an after thought, he thinks you’d climb inside of his skin if you could.

this position is still fairly new to him, looking down at you pressed between the mattress and his body. sometimes he’d be smushed against your chest as you attacked his neck and other times it was more hasty and rushed.

but this- this time, he’s focussed on your face, lingering inches above as his hair falls down against your cheeks.

sliding between your slick folds, nudging inside as his teeth bite down onto his bottom lip, struggling to contain the moan gathering in his throat. he’d been here enough times to know how to move without your bed hitting the wall, it had become an art.

slow, steady strokes, making sure he was moving exactly the way you’d taught him. appreciating the way in which your lips parted and the soft, melodic noises that tumbled out of them.

and yeah, you guys have had sex. plenty of times in fact.

but this felt different somehow, something more.

there’s a lot of that happening lately and eddie’s still unsure about how it makes him feel or if he’s supposed to feel a certain way.

you’re in his hoodie, under his body, moaning his name. that had to mean something, right?

eddie’s hips collide with yours, groaning when your legs tighten around his waist, everything about this feels overwhelmingly intimate. your forehead pressed to his, gazing through hooded eyelids, rolling slightly with every thrust.

“hmm,” you groan, full of rasp, “just like that eds,” manicured nails digging into his shoulder blades, pinching slightly but only spurring him on.

it’s still early, the rest of your house definitely still sleeping, forcing him to swallow his moans. you’re touching yourself, arm threaded between your bodies, circling your clit.

it drives him crazy every time, he assumes that most men wouldn’t appreciate it, a lack of confidence in their abilities or whatever. but eddie loves it, loves that you can make yourself feel good too.

your eyelids flit, breathy moans at every move of his hips, he knows what this means. has learned every tell of your body, the way your mouth falls open and your mind seems to shut off.

“fuck,” you gasp, tightening your grip on his shoulders. moving against him in the final throws, the tip of his cock nestling against the sweet spot.

this is where eddie loses it a little, thrusts becoming sloppy as your fingers work at your clit. he can feel every part of you, squeezing around him and the soft pants that dance into his ear.

his forehead dips, pressed against yours as his senses overcome him, throwing him over the metaphorical edge. “uh shit,” he garbles, spurting his release into your quivering cunt.

you squeak underneath him, mouth agape as your legs shake around his waist, eyes squeezing shut as you cum. it’s fucking magical every single time, it could probably bring him back to life if it really came down to it.

“oh my god,” he breathes, brushing the hair from your forehead, still lingering above as you float down to earth.

your eyes peek open, a smile inching onto your face, once again holding onto his cheeks as you press a solitary kiss to his lips. this was his favourite part of it all, the aftermath.

it usually meant cuddles and chats about nothing. when you were your truest self. eddie wanted to live here for eternity, gazing at the stars in your eyes, happily listening to whatever ramblings you came out with.

the morning is quiet bar you both trying to catch your breath, he can feel your racing heartbeat against his chest and almost wants to say it. to admit to everything he had been feeling.

but you beat him to it. “i love you,” you beam, grinning away to yourself, seemingly unaware of what bomb you had just dropped.

eddie chokes on his spit, coughing and sputtering as he climbs off of your body. lying back on the mattress as his chest heaves. oh my god, he thinks he might be sick.

his head was already spinning, only made worse by your declaration of love. his senses are heightened, looking over at you with bewildered eyes.

“what did you just say?” begging for clarification.

really, the only possible explanation was that this was a dream and he’s about to be rudely awoken and find himself in his own bed, having none of the last six months happen.

“i said,” you smile, pulling yourself into his side, “i love you,” wriggling as you pull your shorts up, intertwining your legs as you do.

“i thought you said that,” eddie laughs deliriously, still frozen in shock. he’s in utter disbelief, just staring at your face in hopes that he’s not cruelly torn out of this moment and it is real.

you tut, pouting slightly, “do you maybe wanna say it back?”

“i do,” he rushes, “i mean, of course i do- love you, i mean,” stumbling over his words, his heart is pounding out of his chest, “i love you too, is what i’m trying to say,” cringing at his severe lack of nonchalance.

even with your extensive training and advice, he’s truly still that weird little virgin boy, still head over heels for you. that’d never change,

“good,” you twinkle, nestling back into his side, arm thrown over his stomach, “you scared me for a minute there.”

he doesn’t understand how you weren’t already well aware that he infatuated with you, he had thought it had been plenty obvious. the man near enough started drooling when you’d touch him for christ’s sake.

“i thought you knew,” shrugging slightly, “i don’t exactly hide it.”

your shoulders shake as you laugh, slightly jittery and still exuberant from your session, “how was i supposed to know you weren’t faking it?”

eddie’s brows thread together, perplexed at your assumption, “you’re the first girl i’ve ever really liked.. let alone loved, i don’t even know how to fake it.”

“shut up,” shaking your head, “you used to like that girl..” clicking your fingers together, “the one with the hair.. whatever her name was.”

“what? you mean carly?”

carly was a friend, helping him pass his marketing class. he had maybe gotten the feeling that she liked him but nothing ever came of it. she wasn’t his type and besides, he’d had his eye on someone else anyway.

“carly! yeah.. you were obsessed i swear, i used to be so pissed off.”

woah. what?

“i didn’t like her.. not like that,” he didn’t, in fact, eddie’s always had a bit of a soft spot for you in reality, “you were pissed off?” he teases, pulling you in tighter.

he felt like he could now, like everything had been established and this was it. you were together. you loved each other.

you give him an over dramatic sigh, “yes i was pissed off,” settling your head on his chest, “i thought you liked her and not me,” he can feel your eyelids flutter shut against his skin, “i’m glad you didn’t though.”

eddie laughs, moving your body as he shakes. he can’t help himself. you were pissed off at the thought of him liking someone else. you. it’s almost nonsensical.

footsteps echo through the hall, stopping outside your door alongside a chorus of whispers. you groan quietly before they pound on the door, obviously eager to collect the gossip.

“what?” you call out, not moving from your position. maybe before you would’ve sprung apart, trying to cover up the obvious but now you embraced it.

robin, nancy and vickie pour into your room, sly smiles on their faces. it’s fairly obvious what had just gone down in here. his cheeks were still blood-red, your leg thrown over his, entangled in the blanket as one.

“so,” robin smiles, pursing her lips, “you have a good night?” alluding to your very public displays of affection.

“i had a fantastic night, thank you,” you grin, refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room, eddie respected the fuck out of that.

“mm i’m sure,” robin quips, raising her brows before perching on the end of your bed, “you remember anything from last night?” she asks curiously, cocking her head to the side.

you bite down onto your lower lip before answering, “i may have been informed,” rolling your eyes slightly. the other two girls giggle in unison.

“so it’s official?” robin asks outright, not wasting any time. she’d never been one to beat around the bush, jury’s still out on whether it’s a pro or a con.

your shoulders shrug, eyes trailing to eddie, “i’d say so,” smiling knowingly.

they had no idea what had actually just occurred, ignorant to the declaration of love that had happened just moments before they burst in. he knows you’ll probably tell them the second he’s gone but for now he appreciates the secrecy of it all.

a moment only meant for the two of you.

robin grabs onto your ankle, shaking it as she roars excitedly, “i fuckin’ knew it,” beaming with a certain smugness.

your eyes roll back again, “have you got what you wanted now? can i sleep this hangover off without anymore interference?” your words are sharp but hold a tone of humour.

“yes yes, you can go back to being degenerate perverts now,” robin laughs, standing from the bed, vickie guides her girlfriend out of the room with a raise of the brows.

nancy lingers, “we’re going for breakfast in a little while, if you two wanna come,” flashing her tightlipped smile before following after robin and vickie.

the door clicks shut and eddie lets out a sly sigh of relief. they were his friends too, he just wasn’t a fan of being interrogated by them when he’s practically naked and still recovering from your confession of love.

“i’m sorry,” you apologise for their abruptness though it’s unneeded.

eddie just smiles, relishing this moment. you’re lying on his chest, his girlfriend, you love him and he loves you and that’s all there is to it.

“i love you, i really really love you.”

[dykesynthezoid]

I get why people sometimes like to retcon show!Armand’s parents selling him into slavery but if I’m being honest I think it’s actually pretty important for them to keep that narratively going forward. It was just such a common way for people to become enslaved throughout all of human history. It presents a very difficult reality but one that I think is integral to understanding how these things perpetuate in the first place.

I know people can have this instinct to go “oh well that’s just too sad” and like I get it! There’s an impulse to give Armand some kind of reprieve from his history of suffering. But also. A lot of real life people have histories just like that. A lot of trafficking victims are trafficked by a parent or an older sibling. A lot of victims previously had an unstable or difficult home life that made them vulnerable to trafficking, even if they were never trafficked by a family member.

A lot of real life people have lives that look like that. There’s no secret hidden surprise memories that their parents actually really loved them. Sometimes things were just always kind of bad. Sometimes that’s just how it is. And those people can still go on to heal and have a better life. There is no “too sad.” There’s just the actual diverse range of human experiences and perseverance.

(Also I understand the argument of “but Armand himself doesn’t remember!” but tbh I think it’s evidence of people not really understanding how repressed memories/dissociative amnesia works. If Armand can say out loud, with conviction, that Arun’s parents sold him into slavery, it’s probably because he knows it to be true, down to a gut instinct. Sometimes those bone-deep feelings are all you have when the detailed episodic memories are nonexistent. The vague knowing is also a type of memory.

If Armand thinks that is what happened that is probably what happened. Questioning his recollection when his sense of connection to that history is already so unstable almost feels kind of cruel if you’ve been in those shoes; but I get that’s not people’s intention! People just want a reality where he didn’t have to suffer as much and I feel for that.)

[eureka-its-zico]

Happy Birthday, Zoro

Synopsis: Zoro wasn't much for birthday's until he met you.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: fluffy, friends to lovers, (Zoro and Doc)

Words: 2.5K

A/N: I had to write something for the birthday boy before the day is over. It is probably the shortest thing I've written in a hot minute, but I hope it is still enjoyable. Much love, Jenn.

He’d let it slip one night while you’d all been celebrating Nami’s birthday. Of course, she’d asked for fireworks and pretty gifts. She’d also asked to play poker, but that was something you and the rest of the crew weren’t willing to talk about. 

There was no way someone won every single time. 

Cheating aside, the one thing that Zoro could agree on was the booze. You’d both been sent out to pick it up. Who better than the resident alcoholic on the ship to know what a good brand was? 

What you hadn’t expected was for him to basically pull you out of your reading nook in the galley. You could still feel the way his fingers had snaked around to grip the inside of your arm. Two seconds later, he was lifting you up and out of your spot with your book almost fumbling to the floor. 

“Zoro-“

“Come on, Doc, you're coming with me.”

“You could’ve asked!” You huffed. 

You were well aware that Zoro was still holding onto your arm. You were also well aware that he was much closer than usual making it hard for you to remember that you were mad at him. Big mad because you were just getting to the good part in your book. 

“I am asking.”

Gods. He said it like a fact. His face was as smooth as stone and unblinking.

This was your Zoro. Master of having zero tact. 

“Asking is with words, you ass.”

“Yeah, I don’t do that.”

“I’ve noticed.”

And with that, he took it as you conceded to go with him into town. In part, it was probably for the best. Zoro’s people skills were nonexistent and you and Sanji frequently had to apologize for him. 

While the trip to town was enjoyable, what made it the best was the way Zoro changed around you. It wasn’t an astronomical change. He didn’t talk a whole lot more or say fewer things that reminded you he was an asshole (but he was your asshole so…) or be less broody. What he did was smile more. 

They ranged from the small smirks he did when you were talking. Your animated hand movements with every other word as you weave a deep story for him or an excessive explanation on why using chopsticks for hair pins was an ingenious idea. You wondered if Zoro himself even realized he was doing it. But your all-time favorite? 

It was when he smiled brighter than any star in the sky. His entire face lit up and chased back all the broody darkness he usually wore like armor. So, while you were upset to be torn from your book, you knew you would much rather be here in town with him. 

When you arrived at the store Zoro immediately asked for samples. Two of everything. You thought he meant for himself, but felt complete terror widen your eyes when he slid one over to your place beside him at the bar. The only response you got was a raised brow and a smirk he quickly covered with the edge of his glass. 

“What? Can steal a man’s glass from a dinner table but not an offered one?”

“Excuse me. I only did that because I knew you wanted it.”

“Hmmm. So, if I vocally say I don’t want you to drink with me, you’ll drink?”

You took a sniff of the amber liquid poured into the glass and felt your eyebrows curl up in retreat. 

“This smells like regret,” you informed him with your eyes looking over the rim of the glass at his very striking figure. 

This man was insane if he thought you were going to drink with him. You had no control over your mouth once you had one glass too many and you weren’t sure you could take responsibility for whatever your hands may, or may not, do. Especially since he was wearing another one of his gi’s, which suspiciously looked more untucked in the chest area than usual. 

You were going to have to ask Nami if she might have spilled some secrets from a girls' night. 

“There is no such thing as regret. Just a learning experience.”

“Yeah, no. That sounds like regret.”

He let out an annoyed sigh as he kicked back what was left inside the glass. The man didn’t even pull a face. He just casually swallowed it and placed the glass rim down first on the bar. 

“That’s going to be a no.” He hummed to himself before he turned to look at you. “Look, Doc, I just want a second opinion on the booze. It’s for Nami’s special day or whatever.”

He had a point. You didn’t want Zoro picking something that was strong enough to melt the hair off a man’s chest, but you also didn’t want it growing any hair on anyone’s chest, either. 

“Fair point.” 

You took one last look at your glass before grabbing it and slamming back its contents. The regret was instant as it burned its way down your throat and boiled molten in your belly. You couldn’t keep from coughing as you tried to shoot daggers in his direction. 

“You know what you learned there?” Zoro asked.

You were scared to ask but felt yourself coughing, “What?” regardless. 

“You don’t like that one.”

Your hand lightly smacked him in the arm on a whim. You waited for him to turn and give you a death glare from the tap, but you were given a soft smile instead and was that- did Zoro just laugh? 

He was already on his fifth glass and maybe that was why he was being so damn cute. Yeah, that was it. Zoro instantly became a lightweight. 

You knocked back the second one in record time. This time, it didn’t burn as much as the first, but it still didn’t taste much better. 

“I never understood the big deal about birthdays.” Zoro’s voice was deep in thought, his eyes roaming the inside of the empty glass of his sixth drink. “It’s just a day.”

A “Tsk,” pushed past your lips as you leaned over towards him. Your cheek rested on his arm as you looked up at him. It felt like it was taking forever for him to even glance down at you. You were about to poke him in his side to finally make him move when dark eyes fell down on your face.

Gods, you really needed to remember to breathe. 

“It’s not just a day! It’s the day you were born. It’s not just to celebrate but to be grateful that you’re here. I’m grateful you’re here.”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat. The way his eyes flashed with something you weren’t used to seeing made a question form on your tongue but before you could ask it, Zoro looked away and back at the table. His hand wrapped around a new glass and quickly emptied its contents. 

“Come on, we still have a lot of booze to get through.”

It wasn’t until the two of you were squeezed into a booth, all of the booze gone, and your head resting on his shoulder, with Zoro’s head resting on yours, that he mentioned it again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated my birthday before,” he hummed. His fingers were playing with the hem of the pocket on your cargo pants. “But if I did. I want it to be with you.” 

It felt silly that just a few words could make your heart race like it did. It was the booze, you’d reminded yourself. You’d both drunk enough to tranquilize a sea beast. Zoro would never just mumble things like this to you, resting his head on yours like he did. 

That day Zoro didn’t say more than that and you didn’t press him. Not that you could, anyways. You couldn’t even remember the walk back to the Merry. The night of Nami’s birthday, in the middle of the fireworks, you’d both been sitting on the deck. Your eyes cast up to the explosion of color that painted the sky. 

“November.”

“What?”

A finger stroked the neck of the bottle he’d been nursing. His wrist found a comfortable spot on his knee as he leaned back on his palm. It was enough to look natural - enough to not bring attention to the fact this position easily put him shoulder-to-shoulder beside you. 

“My birthday it’s…it’s in November. If you are curious.”

July came and went. August and September. You practically counted each day in each month and hated how it seemed to go so fast, but not fast enough. You’d planned and had every idea of how you were going to give him one of the best birthdays ever.

You’d already bought his favorite whiskey and gave it a cute little bow. You’d even asked Sanji to show you how to make a cake. You practiced tirelessly with Sanji watching you every step of the way. So, you couldn’t understand how or why your cake looked like a deflated balloon. 

“Did you overbeat the flour?”

Sanji was leaning back against the counter. A hand covering his mouth because you knew he was either smiling or frowning or a mixture of both. The towel he’d used to clean up your earlier spill rested over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” you groaned into your hands. 

“It’s alright. It’s not the time to panic-“

“It is the perfect time to panic! I don’t have time to try and redo the cake, Sanji.”

The day was almost over. Zoro had spent the majority of it out with Luffy. You’d been waiting for them both to come back and when they did, it was night. You weren’t sure how many hours were left in the day for you to do this, but you knew you didn’t have a lot of time left. 

“Can you hand me a cookie cutter?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna improvise.”

You used the cookie cutter to find the best part of the cake and cut out a piece. You slammed on maybe too much frosting and quickly went and grabbed your present from your room. It might have been a good idea to change since you were practically wearing most of the cake ingredients on your clothes. 

It was too late to change anything. You were already in front of his door and with the tip of your boot knocked as gently as you could. You could hear the slightest sounds of Zoro moving around inside—a groan and what sounded like a few choice words grumbled right after. 

You weren’t ready for what greeted you. 

Zoro swung open the door and all your brain functions ceased. He was shirtless. The scars Mihawk had given him were fully on display along with every ridiculous muscle definition known to man. His hair was haphazard from sleep, eyes still struggling to focus, with pants hung low at his hips. You weren’t sure if you should be thankful or happy. One thing was for sure. You almost dropped your cake. 

“Oh, hey Doc. What’s up?”

Fuck. Was his voice always so unnecessarily rich like this when he woke up? You weren’t sure why, but you panicked and practically shoved the items towards his face. 

“Surprise!”

He looked from your would-be birthday cake and the bottle of whiskey with a bow and back to you. 

“What is this for?”

“Your birthday, silly.”

That seemed to wake him up and not in a good way. He quickly reached out and pulled you inside. He shut the door behind you and if it weren’t for the bit of moonlight that showed through his window, you both would’ve been consumed by darkness. 

Zoro moved forward and you remembered you were in a dimly lit room with him. With a tight smile on your face, you lifted the cake and repeated, “Surprise!”

“You said that already.”

“True but this time it didn’t result in you pulling me anywhere. I brought matches too so you could blow out the candle on your cake.”

Zoro took one look at your cake and all that grumpy energy he held from being woken up disappeared. It was replaced with a soft grin as he looked from the cake to you. 

“Why is it in the shape of a Christmas tree?”

“Let's not focus on the details. Oh, and this is for you too!”

Yes, you were nervous. Yes, this was the first time you’d been inside his room like this, but everything was fine. It was fine. So, there wasn’t any real reason why you almost slammed the bottle into his chest. Zoro didn’t seem to mind the small impact as his eyes landed on the label. 

“It’s my favorite one.”

“I know. It took me a while to find it. Come on. Come sit.” 

You moved to sit on the edge of his bed. Your fingers went to dig the matchbox out of your pocket, and as soon as you got it out, strike one to light up the candle. You carefully lifted the plate back up in your hands as Zoro sat down beside you. The soft glow of the candle made all the hardness of his jaw and cheeks appear softer and the plushness of his lips more inviting. Everything about Zoro appeared different in the soft illumination of the candle and you wished you could draw it to memory. 

A smile that was big and genuine lifted the corners of your mouth. Your hands held up the plate at the best angle between you as you softly said, “Happy Birthday, Zoro. Make a wish.”

Zoro tried to shake away the smirk that started to form before he leaned forward and blew out his candle. You turned to place the plate on the barrel beside the bed. 

“Are you going to ask me what I wished for?”

You froze in place. Your heart suddenly beat wildly against your chest as you struggled to swallow past your racing pulse. You hoped when you turned back around to face him you didn’t look terrified. 

“It’s usually bad luck to ask,” you replied.

“Ask.”

“What did you wish for, Zoro?”

“You.”

You weren’t prepared for Zoro to close the last few inches between you. For his hand to weave his fingers into your hair while his other gripped your waist. Those last few moments of sanity you had before he pressed his lips against yours evaporated the minute he touched you. 

Maybe you’d been his true present all along. 

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As always, thank you for reading. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated.

__________

[canisalbus]

might be an odd question, but i have a theory after noticing trends amongst artists iv known in my life and SO FAR it's rung true so im expanding sample size

IDK if u know what aphantasia is already so I'm including reference [forgive me if uv already spoken abt this also]

Where would u say u fit on the scale?

For me I cannot see an apple, I know I am supposed to, or I will see concepts of it [like how the flesh is shiny and holds water droplets but i do not SEE it nor can i hold a clear visual of anything in my mind for that matter it is always flashing IDEAS like components of a visual, never the whole thing]

I'm asking because of people I've asked about this, there's a quality of their art that [i dont know how to put into words WHY] reminds me of each other, and I'm wondering if u will give me the same answer they have because I am a curious little bastard

I'm pretty sure I'm 1? I think I might have one of those brains that operate mostly on visuals. I don't need to close my eyes to see the image in my mind, it just sort of "opens in a different window" and I'm looking at reality and the mental image simultaneously.

It's never a flat picture, I see a 3D model of sorts, and I can rotate it around, cut it into pieces, look "through it" to see it from outside and inside at the same time, and arrange it to different poses if it's a character. Sometimes when I'm drawing something, I imagine what it would feel like to touch it and hold it in my hands, and that helps me to figure out how to convey a better sense of volume and tangibility.

I also think in images (or, like, gifs?) and I've never had an internal monologue. It surprised me when I heard that some people actually have a narrator in their heads, I can't imagine what it's like.

It's not always fun though, sometimes I get pretty nasty intrusive thoughts and they come in forms of vivid and very unpleasant mental images. Like visiting a relative's grave and being hit with a crisp picture of their decomposing body. Or getting those "I could walk in front of that car/ jump down from here" call of the void thoughts and instantly getting a brain illustration of it playing out from an onlooker's point of view and what the aftermath would look like. They're most distressing when it's bad things happening to someone I care about, for example I have a really persistent one about accidentally slamming a door on my cat and seeing him crushed and dying.

Oddly enough it doesn't extend to all visual thinking. My mind's eye and visual memory work well, but I also have severe face blindness and practically nonexistent ability to form mental spatial maps of my surroundings.