#x. verse

[guardianjameslight]

I don't know about you, but I really hate mentality that says that we don't get good animated projects anymore, especially when these exist.

And there's more.

[lullamiine]

Ramshackle dorm got a new member‼️‼️‼️

Bonus:

[verizzafai]

heeeeey how yall doin?

you guys remember that joke I made on that creator special awhile ago? Yeah this is based on that.

I recently fleshed out the general ages I want them all to have so I left out Reeves (Movie), Mania (Sonic X), and ofc Little Guy(S&F).

But everyone else is here! Do I make a second version with Lance in the middle this time?

This one right here!

[asksonicverse]

[ ASKS OPEN! ]

Prism (Prime!Sonic) is way too used to this alternate universe stuff. He’s getting them organized fast!

And don’t forget Paradox (Prime!Shadow), never says he’s willing to help but does so anyways. Will be getting to asks soon after introductions are over ;D

Part 1 | start/names | Part 3

[thebctman]

I’m going feral over how Mel and Viktor’s parallels with eachother are rooted in magic. Both saw magic as their salvation and their prayers.

Mel is born with magic whereas Viktor sought it artificially. Mel is from privilege and born in wealth. She could see the sky as easily it was to breathe. She grew up in a culture that emphasized on physical strength. Viktor was born in poverty and Zaun’s inability to breathe set his life with a countdown. Zaun also valued adaptability and intellect instead. Mel and Viktor casted aside the mentalities set upon them by their mentors to fight for their own.

Both desired and dreamed to create their own paths with their own ambitions. Both saw and used Jayce as their way to do so.

[beautysamour]

miguel accidentally overstimulating himself not realizing that his breeding kink kicked in 🤲🧎‍♀️

overstimulation with miguel o’hara ❤︎

— a/n: oh my

warnings ﾟ𐦍༘⋆: some vulgar language, mentions of having kids during sex

“Mi—Miguel,” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, “‘s—‘s too much? Ah—are you oh—okay?”

You shudder in unison as he pumps another load of his cum into your drenched pussy.

“I’m fi—fine,” he stutters as his dick twitches. It hurts—he’s sensitive—but it’s not enough. He hasn’t given you enough.

A broken mewl escapes you as your head hits the headboard, Miguel tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from slipping off his cock as his hips stutter through his thrusts.

His visions blurs as you clench around his dick—he was surprised he was still able to move.

He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

You’re both covered in sweat, and cum, and saliva. You feel hot, the silk bedsheets Miguel bought does nothing to cool you down, and your head is spinning. Your heart pounds in your chest as your body tenses—you were about to cum again, and your pussy wanted to cry.

“Miguel,” you whimper, “‘m close, Miguel, ‘m close,” you whine. His dick deliciously rubs against your walls as he sticks his thumb into your mouth—your head hits the headboard.

“I know mami—me too.” Your head hits the headboard again, “Gotta fill you up again, don’t you want that? Gonna make you feel good, I promise mami, I promise.”

“Mig—“ he pushes his thumb down on your tongue.

“‘m gonna make you feel so good, mami,” he starts to babble, “Gonna feel so good.”

Somehow every movement he made was even more intense, you could feel every vein, every twitch, every—everything. He became more precise, every thrust ended with him hitting your g—spot, you were never sure if that was going to be the moment you came.

“Miguel—,” you babble, sucking his thumb. “‘m gonna cum, right there Miguel, I’m gonna—“

His thrusts became erratic, the feeling of your warm pussy engrains itself in his memory.

He’d definitely be going back to this memory.

“Wait for me mami, I’m almost there too,” he grabs one of your hands, bringing it close to his mouth, and he presses his lips against your wrist. “Gonna make you a mother, yeah?”

You bite his thumb.

He presses a hand against your stomach as the bed creaks, “Make me a father?”

His hips stutter as you moan around his thumb.

You avoid eye contact as he leans over you, the pure devotion in his eyes makes you feel tingles in your stomach—and make you feel even more of that in your pussy.

“Look at me when you come mami, pl—please. Need you too.”

You didn’t expect it to happen that quickly when you looked at him.

Miguel looks down at you with lust blown eyes, his hair drops down from his face, and his mouth hangs open—the hand holding your wrist shaking. He slowly thrusts into you as he came inside you—your own cum mixed with his leaking around his dick.

His chest goes up and down as he heavily breathes—fuck was he beautiful as always.

He dips his head pressing a quick sloppy kiss onto your lips, “You’re leaking.”

You laugh, “It’s your fault.”

You expect him to laugh, to take it as a joke and then pick you up to go take a relaxing bath and cuddle for the rest of night—but he doesn’t.

“Oh,” he purrs, “Well, I should fix my mistake, shouldn’t I?”

He drops your wrist and focuses on your left boob, he pinches your nipple—you moan softly.

You wince in unison when he starts to move his hips again, his free hand trailing down to your waist from your stomach, “Ha—have to make sure none of my cum goes to waste, right mami? Can’t risk you not getting pregnant.”

Tears weld in his eyes, your pussy hurts as you pulse around him. He lets out a weak breath, “You want me to cum in you again, right?”

Your head hits the headboard once more as he thrusts get stronger.

It hurts, you’re too sensitive, and you’re positive he is too—yet he’s right. You do want that, you want him.

With a broken, hoarse voice, you say “Yes.”

[ink-n-shadow]

Being knotted in John’s lap as he mumbles that he’s gonna breed you full of his babies right here in his office

(Or literally any of them bc 🫠🫠)

Or your boys rubbing their faces in your neck before they go to work in the morning bc they’ll be damned if they don’t go to work smelling like you

the second idea is so adorable heLLO???

SCENTING

𝜗𝜚 the one about how the pack!141 scents you (almost) every day

𝜗𝜚 pairing: packforce!141 x omega!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: slight smut at the end (minors—DNI), scenting, kissing/sucking scent glands, fingering (reader!receiving), allusions to threesome at the end

it would become so routine and mundane for the five of you, something that came almost as natural to you as breathing.

the routine would begin at around 4 in the morning when john begins stirring in bed, mumbling out your name as his hands pat around the mattress and other bodies for you. once he found you (which was curled up with johnny, most of the time), he’d tug you against him, instinctively burying his face into the side of your throat and nudging your scent gland with the tip of his nose. he would lap at it, give it a bite or two, smother it in soft almost feathery kisses, anything to make your sugary sweet scent stick to his skin.

and once john’s had his fill and gets out of bed to amble downstairs for coffee and a cigar, simon’s coming up from behind, tugging your back against his chest and holding your throat in the palm of his hand as he immediately attaches himself to your gland. he’s more primal in his movements than john is, taking long (almost lewd) drawn out sniffs from your neck as he rubs his stubbled cheeks in the smell of you. (he may or may not dip his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear, sliding through the wetness there before bringing his fingers up to lap at hungrily. but hey! at least he makes you come!)

seeing you whimpering and slack across the mattress is what makes kyle move over in bed, gathering your now jellied form into his arms and pushing your head into the crook of his neck. because kyle’s a beta, there is no scent gland for you to nuzzle into, but the smell of soap and lotion on his skin is enough to have you further relaxing in his arms, head still spinning and clit still throbbing beneath your underwear.

johnny only scoots over in the bed and cuddles up with you from behind when he notices the lack of body heat against him, making him whine sleepily and paw at the mattress until he finds you against kyle. by now, you’re drowning in the different scents covering your skin, not to mention the new scent of arousal and slick festering between your thighs. johnny finds comfort in them all, which immediately has his brain feeling dumbed and his cock twitching to attention.

if it’s not too late, johnny will let you ride him, with kyle in front of you and guiding your movements with his large hands pawing at your hips. if it is too late, then kyle’s drawing johnny out of bed with promises of a blowie in the shower

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[darkmemesworld]

Why when im scrolling through a tag i flashed by cho0chie 😦?

All jokes aside i had posted a meme and not even 3 minutes later it got flagged.. and im starting to see a lot of prn bots is it just me???

But why did my stuff get flagged but bots thats are showing naked people still up 🤔

[punkkture]

᧔ྀི simon being a big buff alpha military breeding machine ᧓ྀི　

{ word count: 1k }

༉‧₊˚. dead dove warning: abo dynamics, breeding, maybe a lil noncon but not really

.ೃ࿔*:· —  dressed in close to nothing, youre shoved into this cold concrete room, hearing the door fastened shut behind you. the stinging of the floor scraping against your skin distracted you from the overwhelming smell in the room. 

its harsh and ravenous, almost like the air was begging to be sucked in. a humid yet strangely cold confine. it smelled like an alpha in a deep rut. but this was stronger than anything you had ever experienced. 

a pair of sweaty hands grabbed you off the ground - choking you at the base of your neck. finally meeting with the source, his eyes were half lidded and damp hair was falling into his face. if you hadn't gasped and looked up immediately at him, his eyes would've looked all black. easily pushing close to three hundred pounds of muscle and toned fat, it was a mammoth of a man. 

stretching tendons seen under the skin on his frame that shined with sweat. his body heat alone was the sole reason the room was so humid. 

you let out a choke as his thick fingers dug onto your neck. your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. gasping for air, and not even because of the fingers around your neck, the smell alone had your body purring. 

he knew that this facility took full advantage of his ruts. besides, how could he say 'no' to being sent omega after omega with the lone purpose of making sure they got pregnant. he was already a sleaze for pussy when he wasn't in rut. 

his build wasn't even a question. arms built for strength, a body that was made to be put under stress and tension. pure submission was flowing through your bloodstream and straight into your heart and brain. his presence was infiltrating the entirety of your soul. 

and you liked it. 

it was only natural for your primal instincts to want this. especially with a man like him. he smelled like safety, vigor. being in the state you were in right now, all you wanted to be used for was to carry his kid. beyond desperate for it. 

his body was so punitive against yours. veins flexing as he ripped apart the little clothing you had on, making sure you were open for him. but ready, he didn't care if you were ready. you were made for this, right?

taking his leaking and rigid cock and prodding around until he felt your weeping hole. shoving you against the cold wall and ensuring you couldnt move more than he allowed. he really did feel like he was a passenger in his own body right now. just moving on basic instinct. and god, the growl that came out of his throat was melting you down into a puddle.

it was a sharp and loud whine that left your lips. but your mouth only kissed against the cement. there was no sense of intimacy, it was clear it was just something he needed. your body however, it was in pure elation. it was otherworldly how his pheromones were being pushed down your throat. 

he was in a frenzy. no attachment, just raw and carnal desire. the only thing he could think of was getting you stuffed full of his cum, doing anything it would take to make sure you got pregnant. 

and it was such an offensive position he had you in, your feet barely touching the ground while he kept you smushed against the wall, just bullying his cock in and out of you with no mercy. the sound of growls, moans, and squeals were too busy taking up each of your mouths. 

it hurt so fucking good. your ears were ringing the second he had you in his hands, and adding in the sensation of a thick nine inch cock filling you was making everything numb. gasps of air were being shoved out of your lungs with no time to even process what was happening. 

his palms were huge, holding you against the wall that could only be used as leverage for him to get deeper. one of his hands was just as big as your tummy, placed over it and pressing down, as if you weren't tight enough. 

in a sense of desperation, you reached back, trying to get your hand to push some sanity back into him. "s-slow down!"

the brute didnt much appreciate it. slapping your hand off of him and holding it down at the curve of your back. "shut up. dont touch me."

his hips pushed all the way against your ass. getting the fat to push up against him as your brows furrowed and such a pleading sound came out. he could barely fit himself all the way in and the pain from how he was stretching you open only made everything feel more numb.

one thing he did with you that he hadn't done with any of the women sent before, his nose was stuck against your neck. trying desperately to not bite down on the soft skin. it smelled so good it was making his eyes water. he was now the one letting out whimpered snarls, his brain was slowly eating away at itself.

every moment he made was fueled by an unfed hunger that demanded to be satiated. he had no problem holding your body down or pulling you back against his hips. he was trying to get you to keep up with him.

your cunt was just leaking against him so shamelessly, he had a slick covered pelvis that was already starting to seep down onto his thighs. it was such a disgusting sight in all honesty. nothing besides raw need and overwhelming primal desires. 

the mountain of a man only had some semblance of reality returned to him when you were stuffed full of at least three of his loads. the cold cement floor was comforting now. giving release to the dangerous body heat between the two of you. 

he was panting overtop of you, your back on the stone ground and legs that were finally let go of. the second he pulled out, ounces of his cum could be seen pouring out. so he grabbed your legs one last time, and squeezed them shut - keeping everything he could inside of you. 

there was no kiss, no reassuring words, but he gave a firm pat to your tummy as the only bit of appreciation.

ೃ࿔* tag list: @vanillarosekiss @simonskitty @cu456 @silverwoodlynx @mlthree @vint4geroses @ktmjoslin @darlingchanse @jgissle12 @asherscove @diorpar @sky-robin @ldrtypeofgirl @mentalhorror @teranya @chawitea @all-by-myself98 @jinx53 @alfiestreacle @frazzledfawn @iamtoriasworld @annierosesposts @dude1634 @happysmappy @itgetsdarksometimes35 @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @slut-lmao @theyluvlaur @bruisedfig @pinkthxt @hobiebrownenthusiast @h0lydrag0ns @cashmereandcookies

[orphicmeliora]

Panty sniffer Caleb except it's comedy.

You were just looking for a missing sock. One sock. That's it.

But what you find instead is your six-foot-something husband crouched by the laundry basket like he’s disarming a bomb—except the bomb is your underwear.

You freeze in the doorway. He doesn’t see you yet. He's on a mission. A perverted, laundry-scented mission—his expression tender, reverent.

With all the focus of a Deepspace pilot, Caleb lifts your favorite pair of panties from the pile like they're a love letter written in lace. He squints at it, rubs the crotch between his fingers like he’s testing the thread count for softness, and then—

He brings it up to nose and inhales.

Deeply.

Like a sommelier with no shame.

You make a sound. You’re not even sure what kind of sound—somewhere between a gasp and a squeaky door hinge. Caleb turns around, eyes wide, nose still buried in lace. You both lock eyes.

Time stops.

You hear distant thunder. Somewhere, a dog howls. You're frozen. Caleb's frozen. Time's frozen. You think distantly, all that's left is to put on a blond wig and sing Let It Go in a blizzard.

“...I can explain,” he says, still holding the underwear like it’s a peace offering.

You raise your hand. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

He closes his mouth immediately.

"I'm going to pretend this never happened," you declare, backing away slowly like he’s a raccoon in the pantry.

Caleb nods like he’s at a peace treaty signing.

You turn to leave—but then it hits you.

“…Wait. Is this why you never complain about doing laundry?”

Caleb stares at the ceiling like the answers are hidden in the light fixtures.

“…It’s possible.”

“I’m right here, Caleb! A living, breathing woman! With skin and body heat! Why the hell do you need my underwear?!”

He shrugs helplessly. “...Force of habit?”

“HABIT?! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN A HABIT?!”

He’s pale now. His soul has exited the chat. "Honey, listen—"

You grab your head like you're in a telenovela. “My husband is a panty-sniffing laundry goblin. This is my villain origin story.”

“You make it sound worse when you say it out loud—”

“OH, I’M SORRY, IS THE SHAME GETTING LOUD FOR YOU NOW?!”

You storm off, dramatically, like a woman wronged by both love and polyester blends. Caleb tries to chase after you but trips over a basket. Underwear flies everywhere.

One lacy pair lands on his head like a tiny, tragic hat.

As you march down the hallway, muttering “I married a pervert,” one deeply disturbing thought slips in—quiet, traitorous:

...Why was that weirdly hot?

“Wait. How many times, Caleb?”

He frowns. “What kind of answer are you looking for? Ballpark? Weekly average?”

“CAL—”

[verstappenverse]

Knight of My Heart

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After one too many drinks, a protective Max arrives right when you need him most.

1.7k words / Masterlist

It was nearly 2am when Max’s phone buzzed on his nightstand dragging him from the edges of sleep. The faint light from his screen illuminated the dark room, and he reached for it with a haphazard hand, squinting at the text that appeared.

She’s drunk. Like realllly drunk. Can you come get her?

Max sat up, his heart already sinking. The message was from one of your friends, someone whose name he only half-remembered from the countless times they’d insisted they’d “watch out for you.” Max knew better by now.

He sighed, raking a hand through his messy hair, before throwing the sheets off and quickly pulling on a hoodie and jeans.

The drive to the club was quiet, but Max’s mind wasn’t. He hated these nights. It wasn’t just the thought of you being drunk and vulnerable, it was the idea that you were so carefree and beautiful, and people always noticed. Too many times Max had seen guys try to get too close, their smiles too slick and intentions too obvious.

When he finally pulled up outside the club he saw you almost immediately. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

You were leaning against a lamp post near the curb swaying slightly in your heels, a dazed smile on your face as a man hovered beside you. Max’s chest tightened at the sight. The guy was too close, his body angled toward yours as he spoke animatedly, gesturing with his hands. You laughed softly at whatever he said, your voice carrying over the low thrum of the music spilling from the club’s entrance.

Max killed the engine and climbed out, his jaw set. His strides were purposeful, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“Maxie!” you squealed the moment you spotted him, your arms flinging open in delight.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his torso and nearly toppling yourself over in the process.

The guy looked over at Max, not at all intimidated, but Max didn’t care. His jaw tightened, his fists clenching by his sides as he stepped closer.

“You good?” Max asks you, his voice a little rougher than usual.

The man gave Max a once-over, clearly sizing him up. “She seems fine to me,” he said, his tone too casual for Max’s liking.

Max’s eyes narrowed, the jealousy coursing through him now unmistakable. He took a step closer to him. “Oh because you know her so well, right?” he asked the guy, voice clipped.

With a taunting smirk, the guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “She was just telling me about her night. She looked like she needed some company.”

Max wasn’t having it, he stands tall, his body blocking your view of the man now. “Right, I don’t think you understand,” Max replied dryly, placing a firm hand on your waist. “I’m her boyfriend, she's with me. Thanks for your concern, but I’ll take it from here.”

The man’s lips twitched as though he wanted to argue, but something in Max’s gaze seemed to convince him otherwise. With a tight nod, he muttered a quick, “Whatever man,” and walked off into the crowd.

As the guy disappeared, Max’s frustration didn’t completely fade, but he focused right back on you. Guiding you towards his car, hand never leaving your side. You leaned into him, your cheek resting against his shoulder the alcohol making your limbs feel heavy.

You looked up at him, your face slightly flushed, your eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” you asked quietly.

Max’s lips press together tightly, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy still lingering. “I’m fine,” he said, even though he’s anything but. "Just... I want you to be safe alright?"

You nod, though your head wobbles slightly. "I know... just wanted to have some fun… long week."

Max exhaled slowly, his tension only easing slightly as he turned to you. You were beaming up at him, clearly oblivious to the small confrontation that had just unfolded.

“I get it,” he said softly, his hand steadying you at your waist. “But where are your friends?”

“They’re inside,” you mumbled, waving a hand vaguely toward the club entrance. “Or somewhere. I don’t know. I came out to get some air.”

Max sighed, scanning the area for any sign of your group. Just then a few of your friends emerged from the club giggling.

“Max!” One of them called her tone far too cheery. “She’s all yours.”

Max’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling over. “Why did you let her get this drunk?” he snapped. “Anything could’ve happened to her out here!”

Your friend blinked, her smile faltering. “She’s a big girl Max. Besides, we knew you’d come.”

“That’s not the point,” Max said, his voice sharp. "You should’ve made sure she was safe.”

Your friends exchanged glances mumbling something, he exhaled heavily running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m glad you've all had fun, but next time just… watch out for her yeah? She’s very important to me.” He gazed down at you.

Your friends exchanged glances, some looking sheepish, others visibly annoyed at his tone.

“We had it under control Max,” one of your friends said, her tone defensive. “We weren’t going to babysit her all night.”

Max’s jaw clenched. “Being there for your friend isn’t babysitting, it’s just what you do.”

Another friend, the quieter one of the group spoke up “Okay Max. We’ll keep a better eye on her next time, promise.”

“Thank you,” he said simply, looking back down at you. Your eyes were half-closed, a lazy smile on your lips as you mumbled something unintelligible against his chest.

Max shook his head, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his face. “Alright,” he said to the group, his tone a little lighter now. “I’m taking her home. Get back safely.”

“We will,” the quieter friend said, giving him a small, apologetic smile.

Max turned to you with a sigh of relief. “Let’s get you home.”

Max guided you to the car, his hand never leaving your waist. You leaned into him heavily, giggling at every little thing, the way his hand steadied you, the low muttering under his breath, even the way he opened the car door for you like you were royalty.

“You’re being so nice to me Maxie,” you said, settling into the passenger seat with a content sigh.

“I’m always nice to you,” he replied, pulling the seatbelt across your body and clicking it into place.

“You are,” you agreed, your voice soft and dreamy. “You’re my favourite person, you know that?”

Max froze for a moment, sure his heart skipped a beat, before he shook his head and closed your door.

The drive home was quiet, save for your occasional hums and mumbled comments about the pretty city lights. Max glanced at you every so often, his hand gripping your thigh, your eyes fluttering shut for brief moments.

When he finally pulled into his apartment’s parking garage you stirred, blinking sleepily. Inside you clung to him like a lifeline, your arms looped around his neck as he guided you to the bathroom.

“You’re so tall,” you murmured, your head resting against his chest. “Like a tree. A strong, handsome tree.”

Max chuckled despite himself, shaking his head as he set you down on the bathroom counter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like me anyway,” you said, your grin lazy and smug.

He didn’t respond, instead reaching for a makeup remover wipe from the cabinet. You watched him curiously as he carefully cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Taking your makeup off,” he said simply.

You stared at him, your expression unreadable, as he carefully wiped at your face. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he avoided your eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand.

"You take such good care of me." You whispered, reaching up to touch his hand. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know,” he said with a slight frown, his eyes finally meeting yours. “But I want to. You deserve it.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Max carried you to the bedroom, letting you climb him like a koala as you giggled into his shoulder. He set you down gently, pulling the covers over you before crouching beside the bed. You blinked at him sleepily, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re like a knight,” you mumbled, your voice thick with drowsiness. “My very own knight in shining armour.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “A very tired knight,” he replied, brushing a stray hair from your face. “But you’re going to hate me in the morning if I let you go to sleep without water and something for your hangover.”

“I don’t hate you,” you slurred, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. “I could never hate you.”

His chest tightened at the sincerity in your tone, “Stay awake for just a few more minutes okay? I’ll be right back.”

You made a soft noise of protest as he stood, but you didn’t try to stop him. Max moved quietly through the apartment, grabbing a glass from the kitchen and filling it with cold water. From the bathroom he grabbed a pack of paracetamol, the domesticity of the routine bringing a faint smile to his lips.

When he returned you were still half-propped against the pillows, your eyes fluttering open at the sound of his footsteps.

“Here,” Max said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He handed you the glass and pressed two pills into your palm. “Take these and drink some water. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

You squinted at the pills like they’d personally offended you. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Max replied firmly, his lips quirking upward. “No arguments.”

“Bossy,” you muttered, but you popped the pills into your mouth and swallowed them with some water. “Happy now?”

“Very.”

You handed the glass back to him, and he set it on the nightstand before leaning forward to pull the blankets higher around you.

“I’m so lucky you’re my Maxie,” you sighed.

“Sleep,” he said softly, stroking your cheek.

“Stay,” you murmured, your eyes already half-closed.

Max hesitated, his heart twisting with adoration, before nodding. “I’ll be right here.”

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men as Omegas (🫣😳)

AN: I have no shame. Top reader rights. IK i suck at abo, i'm working on it people. Forgive me 😭 (I do not own these characters- don’t sue me pls)

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: Omegaverse

Rafayel:

Soft, cuddly, clingy, and the perfect blend of bratty, Rafayel isn’t afraid to play into his omega stereotype. He receives endless courtship proposals, but this little mermaid is already sold on his fated mate.

And when you rescue him, his heart only confirms what his soul already knew.

You are the alpha of his dreams. The dream who stepped into reality to save him. The realization makes him swoon.

He falls in love in the days of his naivety, offering you a scale from his tail in an act of quiet, instinctive devotion.

And when you take it, when you press it against your chest like a sacred vow, he knows.

He was always meant to be yours, no matter what trials your future holds.

Xavier:

The treasured omega crown prince of Philos, Xavier has spent years enduring grueling, mind-numbing courting balls, all for the sake of political alliances.

By the time he chooses you, his trusted knight, it isn’t because of love. It’s because he’s tired.

Tired of being a trophy for an alpha he doesn’t want, tired of playing the part of the perfect prince. He just wants to be done with it.

So he takes the only logical escape in front of him. A marriage of convenience.

He never expected to fall in love.

But somehow, through quiet nights and gentle hands, you change everything. Your kindness reminds him that he is more than his title, that his purpose extends beyond the throne.

Just hold him close and let him nap in your arms.

Because in a world of politics and crowns, you are the only place he can rest. For you, he will travel worlds beyond time.

Zayne:

You are both idiots in love.

You grew up together. Playing as children, bickering as teens, having each other’s backs as adults.

He never saw you as a mate. You were just his friend.

His dorm mate, who fended off riled-up alphas, who gifted him the softest blankets and cardigans when his scars ached. Who brewed coffee before med school boards and kept a supply of his suppressants on you at all times. You were kind, reliable, familiar.

That’s it, right?

Wrong.

He realizes it a little too late.

Especially when he wakes up in your bed, your scents mixed together, tangled in warmth that neither of you question.

You were never just his friend.

You were his safe place.

And maybe, just maybe, he was yours too, he thinks as he lays back down, resting his head on your chest.

Sylus:

From the moment you bowed before the Dragon Lord, your heart was his.

He, who owned the treasures of the world, was given you. A peasant beta, tribute by an indebted village.

You had nothing to return to.

Your home, brimming with siblings, had no space for another mouth to feed. At least this way, your family would be given a year’s worth of food.

Sylus did not favor mundane things.

In his den of glimmering gold, you were nothing more than an unworthy servant, bound by duty.

And yet, he could not ignore you.

Not when you, a mere human, kept doing the most human of things: cooking meals (which he did not require), washing laundry (who did that for dragons?), dusting his endless hoard (a futile task).

You were never worthy of being his mate.

And yet, somehow, there was no one closer.

You weren’t even an alpha.

But Sylus didn’t need one.

Beyond ranks and positions, there was simply presence.

And somehow, without ever meaning to, you became his greatest treasure.

In a world that did not want you, he treasured you.

Caleb:

Ever since childhood, your fates have been opposites. His in the skies, yours deep in the core of the earth.

There couldn’t be a pairing more different.

And yet— You were the one who held him when his scent shifted, the one who comforted him through the awkward, agonizing growth spurts of adolescence.

You were the one who fought for him to enter the aerospace academy as an omega.

And then, one day, he was taken from you.

And all that remained was grief. Never ending grief and hollowness.

The one who flew in the skies had been your anchor, and without him, you lost your place in the world.

So when he returns, changed, worn, distant, you find yourself asking the one question you aren’t sure you want answered:

"What did they do to you?"

And more importantly,

"Are you still mine?"

[ramp-it-up]

Good Morning

Summary: You leave bed before Bucky can say good morning.

Word count: 1.8 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This drabble is in the Knock You Down AU, and is the answer to this ask. Please let me know how you feel by commenting, reblogging, and interacting. 😉

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Frumoasă is pregnant, Bucky is feral. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

_____

If Bucky could mainline you straight to his veins, he would. He woke up feening and alone.

The moment he stepped into his en suite that morning, which was your bathroom now too, a primal pull drew him on a string to you. 

You were standing at the mirror trying to tame your hair in just white cotton panties and Bucky’s dress shirt from the day before, partly for use as a robe, but mostly for his smell.

At the sight of you in his shirt, diamond on your finger, pregnant with his child, something in his chest tightened. 

Mine he thought.

You tried to focus on fixing your hair, but the weight of his gaze on you in the mirror was distracting as hell. There were a few other things that had changed about you in the last few weeks: your appetite, your energy level, but the best and the worst was your sex drive.

“You’re staring again,” you murmured, meeting his gaze in the mirror and trying to pretend you didn’t want him to slut you out. 

“Sorry,” offered Bucky, who was leaning on the wall behind you, smirking and probably reading your mind. 

He was definitely not sorry.

“Can’t help it, Frumoasă.”

You raised an eyebrow at him over your shoulder at his cracked voice.

“You can’t?”

You destroyed him with a look. He couldn’t take how beautiful you were. You standing there, no makeup, all that hair, his white shirt and panties. He never knew that Jockey that made lingerie to turn him on, but here you were.

And Bucky was so weak for you.

“No. I can’t. You’re too beautiful.”

But the way he was looking at you, eyes burning you, that tongue peeking out of his mouth as if recalling your taste on his lips; it made you shiver. 

Bucky strode toward you, so gotdamn handsome in the mirror that you didn’t want to turn around and see the real thing.

He was clad only in low slung grey sweatpants, the bulge in them growing by the second, his abs standing out, his tiny nipples erect. The medal on his golden skin gleamed and you longed to bite it between your teeth as he stroked his thick cock inside you.

Bucky Barnes’ blue gaze had you in a chokehold.

Fuck, you wished he would choke you while he fucked you hard, but he stopped with the breath play the moment he found out you were pregnant.

Your eyes glazed over and your mouth dropped open in a small pant as your pussy clenched down on nothing, thinking of how Bucky handled you on his cock.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Frumoasă?” Bucky teased, eyes locked on you when you turned your dreamy eyes on him. 

You pretended you didn’t notice and refocused on arranging your curls. The sharp points of your breasts under his shirt might have been a clue however, and if he could see between your legs, he might have ascertained a wet spot. 

Bucky’s voice was low and rough around the edges as he moved closer to you, watching as you as your fingers pulled through your hair again, your arms akimbo and offering the perfect view of your body.

He also didn’t miss the smile that played on your lips after what he asked. He knew what you were thinking.

Your hands fell from your thick hair to your hips and your eyes zeroed in on his bulge.

“My eyes are up here, Baby.”

Bucky’s firm hands were sliding over your hips now, pulling you back against him. His lips brushed your shoulder. 

Slow. Lazy. Possessive.

His hands moved to your belly, his fingers spreading possessively over the softness there. There was only the slightest change, but Bucky noticed everything. His breath moved over your neck and made you shiver as he kept eye contact in the mirror.

“Bucky… got to get ready,” you murmured, trying to ignore the way his fingers smoothed down the curve of your waist. 

“Not yet…” 

A hand slid under the hem of the shirt. You inhaled shakily. 

“I woke up, and you weren’t in bed.” 

His voice was low, rough, and thick with desire. 

You swallowed hard. 

“Because I was getting ready to—“

 “You’re supposed to be in my arms,” he interrupted.

His words sent heat through your body as his hands tightened on your hips. And you felt him, hard, ready, and pressing against you from behind. 

You gripped the vanity with trembling fingers. He chuckled, his hips pressing into you. 

“You’re wearing my shirt, looking like this, carrying my baby. You’re killing me,” he looked up at you in the mirror those blue eyes destroying your soul.

“You know that right? You drive me crazy,” he murmured, voice thick with need as his hands glided higher over your ribs, fingertips tracing the sensitive skin beneath your breasts. 

You gasped, body weak against the hard planes of his torso and Bucky groaned, his large hands extending and gripping your nipples gently. He rolled them lightly, his hands working under his shirt, and a moan escaped you. 

“Fuck, you’re sensitive, aren’t you?” 

You didn’t have time to respond before he spun you around, lifted you on top of the counter, and stepped between your legs. Bucky’s hands slid up your thighs, pushing them wider. 

And just like that, going out was forgotten because Bucky was between your legs, his long, hard cock pressing against your melting pussy, kissing you like he was starving. His palms were hot on your skin, fingers gripping, claiming, and dragging you closer. 

You gasped into his mouth, and he deepened the hot, slow, and delicious kiss like you two had all the time in the world. 

Like he wanted to devour you.

“Bucky, Baby—” 

You barely got his name out before his fingers tightened, and suddenly your back was pressed to the mirror, legs wrapped around his waist, body caged in by his. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and yanked it open, baring your skin to his. 

You shivered at the way his eyes darkened as they swept over you, hunger rolling off him.

“Shoulda stayed in bed, baby,” he murmured, trailing his lips down your neck and his hands spreading you wider. 

“I was going to meet Peach for brunch,” you whimpered. 

In the back of your mind, you were certain that this was a plan between him and Steve to keep you both in the house after what happened in Atlanta after New Years. 

Bucky chuckled, his breath hot against your skin and his teeth grazing your collarbone. 

“I’m sure she’s busy as well.” 

You shook your head and smirked as his mouth moved lower, dragging down your stomach, over your hip, until he was kneeling between your legs.

“Can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper as he looked up at you with those baby blues.

“About this body. About what we made together. About how deep a part of me lives inside you.”

His hand drifted over your stomach, then slid down to the waistband of your panties, teasing.

Your breath hitched, “Bucky!” 

His palmed your clit and slipped three fingers along the cut of you, playing in your slick, teasing. 

“So fucking wet. Here, taste.”

And he inserted his wet fingers into your mouth. Your eyes closed as you sucked yourself off of him, but they flew open when you felt something sharp and cold against your skin. 

Bucky had picked up your hair shears from the vanity and was using them to cut your panties off.

“James!”

Bucky outright laughed as you moved your mouth and prepared to gripe at him, until he got on his knees. He settled between your legs, pushing between them with his shoulders and stared at you.

You were glistening, slick and swollen, your body so fucking ready for him. 

He dragged his wet fingers through your folds, pressing just enough to make your breath catch, just enough to make your hips jerk up.

You were desperate for more. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, watching you fall apart. 

You whimpered, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. He slid a finger inside you, slow and deep, watching as you gasped, your body clenching around him. 

“So tight. So fucking perfect.” 

Bucky added another, stretching, preparing, feeling your pussy adjust to him. 

You moaned, arched, writhed, and it was the most beautiful fucking thing Bucky had ever seen. 

He leaned forward and dragged his tongue through your slick heat, tasting, devouring, and feeling your body tremble under his grip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, gripping, and begging for more.

“Please, Bucky, please!!!”

Your fiancé smirked into your pussy. 

“Impatient?”

You whimpered, your hips jerking as he held you down, licking slowly, deeply, watching you come undone.

“You’re perfect like this,” he mumbled into your cunt.

At this point, you were shaking and gasping. Bucky didn’t stop until you were arching off the vanity, crying out his name, legs shaking around his head as you came.

He wiped his mouth as he watched you come down and trying to close your legs although he still had one thigh in his grip.

Your drooping eyes widened as he lowered the waistband of his sweats, pulled you forward by your hip, and lined himself up.

“Need more. Need to be inside you.” 

“Please!”

It was an over stimulated plea, but it died on your lips in a moan. Bucky held your gaze as he pushed inside your wet, hot pussy.

“Tight,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Fucking perfect.”

Your fingers clenched his shoulders and you let out a breathy moan, making him almost lose it right there. Bucky sunk deeper, feeling your body stretch to accommodate him.

“That’s it, mama. Take every fucking inch of my fat cock.”

He groaned, burying himself to the hilt, feeling you tighten and pulse around him, sucking him in deeper. 

Bucky pulled back and thrusted back hard, watching the way you face twisted in pleasure.

“Mine.”

He said it aloud this time. 

Bucky gripped your hips, pinning you down, fucking you slow and deep. He gripped your jaw and forced you to look at him.

“Eyes on me.”

His voice was rough and demanding.

“That’s it. Take me. Take all of this cock.”

Your nails dragged down his back until you were too weak to hold on, your body shuddering from wave after wave of pleasure, which spiked when the splashes of his hot cum hit the convulsing walls of your cunt.

Bucky held you tight and kissed the top of your head.

“You don’t leave the bed without saying good morning.”

“Yes, Sir. Good morning, Sir.”

“Smartass. Let’s teach it a lesson.”

You thought Bucky Barnes was done.

But when you slid down to your feet, he turned you around and bent you over the sink. You felt his cock get hard again and press against your bottom.

You gasped.

“James!”

“You’re gonna be a little late for brunch, Frumoasă.”

[asksonicverse]

Wow this one’s got everyone in it! Anyways vote down below really quick and then get to my author notes hehe

I didn’t include the littles and classic, 1. because no one to kiss (hmmm) and 2. They are babies!

Thanks for waiting around for me for so long you guys, I’m sorry it’s been taking me so long to get parts out but I’m having such a (fun) and busy summer getting ready for college! I’m currently in Japan (to explain the weird hour in posting at) and I’m doing my best arghh… so hard when I’m sharing a room with family. >_<

Anwyaysss, enjoy voting!! I’m putting my faith in you…

Previous | names/start | Next

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

pt1

Lonesome Love

You're about a year old when you're dropped off at the manor by your mother, along with your birth certificate and important papers.

She never truly cared for you, so she just left. She couldn't care if she wanted to, she could barely afford you. You sometimes wonder how life would've been if she stayed and cared and hadn't dropped you off at your father's.

Bruce didn't believe he was your actual father, he thought it was someone trying to get money from him.

After some DNA tests, it was confirmed. You were his kid.

Ever since you were little, like most babies, you needed attention.

Unfortunately in a household like this, you believe you won't ever get what you want.

Your father, Bruce Wayne, never had time for you. Always on a mission.

You would try and come up to him and talk to him and try and get him to do stuff with you, like listening to music or anything, you wouldn't mind doing anything as long as it was with your father.

You tried to read fancy newspapers you didn't understand infront of Bruce to get his attention and make yourself look smarter than you are.

All he does is walk away

Tagging along behind him was Richard "Dick" Grayson. Who was supposed to be like an older brother to you.

You would always go up to him and show off, trying to look cool to him or talk to him in general.

It never really worked.

You joined gymnastics when you were 6 in the hopes of getting Dick to talk to you.

All he does is give you a "Good job birdie!" with a ruffle of your hair which you won't complain about since that's the most he's paid attention to you since you got here.

Alfred was the only one you saw and had actual conversations with. He wasn't around as often as he would like to, but he tried his best..!

You would try and join him in baking only for you to mess it up. You thought he would shoo you away but he taught you how to do it well! He wasn't always with you though, he had to go and help your father on his missions.

You feel like you shouldn't complain about the little to no amount of love. You could technically buy anything you wish for You can afford anything you want!

All the fancy clothes and all the toys you wanted! Even your room was huge!You try and stay positive through everything, everything gonna be fine.

When you were 7 years old, Jason Todd was brought into the manor.

You half expected him to brush you off like Dick and Bruce, but to your surprise, he interacted with you!

Despite the 4-year age difference, he and you were inseparable.

He read to you every night, he listened to whatever you said, even if it didn't make sense, he would play whatever with you, and he would even take you out for walks!

He told you all about his school and despite some of the complaints he had, you wanted to go to a real school so badly!

You wanted friends! You wanted to talk to others! After being homeschooled your whole life, you begged your father to please let you go to public school.

...He said no.

You were so sad! why won't he just let you go? After months and months of begging, he finally let you go to private school!

The uniform was itchy and stupid-looking and the people there were kinda rude but still! School!!

After a week or two, you were extremely popular due to your bubbly personality and your being a social butterfly!

You had so many friends, everyone at school liked you being high energy! You loved your elementary school! You were pretty smart too, you had passing grades without even trying! Even if it technically is just an addition...

You were popular with students and teachers! Everyone wanted to play tag with you and race you to the swings and hang on the monkey bars with you and-

Everything was just perfect!

Until it wasn't.

You were 9 when Jason Todd was killed by the Joker.

You sobbed when you realized he wasn't coming back. You hated the Joker. You couldn't understand why.

Why would he do that?whywhywhywhywhyehywhywhywhywhywhywhywh

You don't have anyone to help you. Sure your friends at school exist but they wouldn't understand, you're all children, and most of them have gone through similar things. They wouldnt care.

You cried and threw up so many times.

You just wanted your brother back.

You wanted him to read you a story one more time. To talk to you one more time. To play with him one more time. To see him one more time. justonemoretimepleasepleasepleaseplease

You stopped going to school for a while to mourn. It was 3 weeks before you came back.

You were 11 years old when a new robin was introduced

Tim Drake

You tried to talk to him, you did! It's just that he looked so mad whenever you tried to talk to him like you were interrupting even while just existing.

So you stopped. He made you so mad, what made him think he could just take over Jason's legacy?!

You both avoided each other like the plague. There isn't much to be said, other than how you wish you guys could get along.

You're 12 when Jason's back. He's now also avoiding you. You don't understand why. You guys were so close, what happened?

You didn't understand, you've tried so hard for all of them, so why couldn't they just see you for once?

You're done.

You can't do this anymore.

They took Damian in with open arms. Dick got close to him immediately. It feels like everywhere you look they're all together, as a family. You're so sad. You're so mad. You're so tired.

They never cared for you. You tried so hard for them. Perfect grades, multiple hobbies you hate besides one, but it's the one thing you can't get done correctly. Electric guitar.

You're done.

hi guys its me again this is highkey buns but like idk

idk when the next chapter is cominf out isigh BUTBUTBUT im still getting used to this so hi

[lil-vibes]

my beloved beasts 😭