#i wrote this

[lvemenow]

return to the earth // happy earth day🌱

ig lee.jeyden

#earth day #nature #artists on tumblr #art #my art #digital art #collage #queer artist #poetry #text #mixed media #mixed media collage #collage artwork #collage artist #collage art #digital collage #floral illustration #illustration #traditional art #digital artist #art journal #nature lovers #cottagecore #naturecore #frogcore #whimsigoth #whimsicore #autistic artist #i wrote this

[sailorshadzter]

Fic prompt: Jon teaches Sansa archery after feeling jealous when he saw Theon and Sansa practicing together

hi anon! ty!!

send me prompts

On the battlements he stands, watching over the courtyard that is a flurry of activity, as it always seems to be these days.  There is never a dull moment there in Winterfell as they make what surely will be their final preparations for the battle that was to come. The threat of death looms overhead and there isn’t a single person among them that does not fear what could be in the coming days.

His attention, however, does not last long on the dutiful men as they work to ensure preparations are complete. Instead, his gaze sweeps across the way, to the most northern corner of the courtyard, to where he catches sight of the red hair he would know anywhere. He is surprised to see her there, a bow in hand, her ivory features pinched with a frown. Before he can blink, there appears another and at once there is a beast called jealousy roaring in his chest. 

He watches as Theon steps around her, carefully positioning her hands as they should be, helping her to draw back the bow string and holding the arrow straight. He watches as she bites her lip in concentration, as she furrows her brow, as Theon must say something encouraging for she’s smiling ever so slightly- then she’s releasing the arrow and it misses the mark by a mile. She looks discouraged but Theon is touching her shoulder and she’s smiling once more, turning to watch him go to retrieve another. They’re back at it then, his hands over hers, so close he surely must feel the warmth of her skin between the layers of the wool they both wear- again, the beast in his chest roars. 

“My lord?”

He turns at the sound of the voice, drawing him out of his head and back into reality- if just for now. 

[ x x x ]

He catches her as she’s descending the stairs and her smile is dazzling, even so early in the morning. “Off to practice archery, are you?” He questions and her cheeks stain crimson, her footsteps slowing to a stop. 

“You saw?” She asks softly, staring at the floor like a child caught misbehaving. 

Jon cannot help but to laugh at her expense, which draws her eyes back up to his face. “Aye, I saw,” he says, reaching out to gently tug on a lock of her red hair. “I thought I might help you today,” he continues, his hand falling away from her, but his fingers long to feel her hair, her skin, her, once more. Her blue eyes widen with surprise but she’s grinning, nodding, a new pep to her demeanor that wasn’t there even just a moment ago. “You needn’t learn this you know,” he says as they walk out the double doors and into the crisp, morning air. 

“I know,” she says softly, the look on her face telling him everything he needed to know. She wasn’t doing this for herself, she was doing it for her people, for her home. Just in case… Just in case she needed to protect someone, she might just be able to do so. Jon wonders if there’s any other lady or lord in the world that would do such a thing. 

“Like this,” he’s saying now, helping her to hold the bow as she needs to, carefully placing the arrow to the string. “Square your feet now.” She adjusts her pose and suddenly, it feels far more natural than it had the day before. Jon’s hands are warm over her own as he adjusts her ever so slightly, pulling back the string just an inch more. “Perfect,” his breath is warm against the back of her neck, so close they are now. “Let go…!” She does and the arrow flies, not striking the center, but striking the board all the same. “There you go!” He shouts happily and she’s laughing, dancing around him as he reaches for another arrow. “Again,” he says and she falls back into position, smiling to herself when he presses himself against her once more. 

The next arrow strikes even closer and she’s the one to let out a cheer, red hair swinging as she turns to face him. “You are quite the teacher,” she compliments as they take up their pose yet again. 

Jon laughs, soft and slow against the shell of her ear. “You are a natural,” he insists as she narrows her eyes, focusing on her target. She’s caught up in her own mind now, not listening to him at all, so he steps away, watching as she is the one who holds the bow, holds the arrow. And then she is the one to let it fly, shooting across the way to strike the dead center of the target. 

She lets out a cheer and turns back to him, throwing her arms around him, laughing, sinking into the warmth of his arms. “You are a good teacher,” she reminds when he holds her at arm's length, gray eyes meeting blue. He opens his mouth, thinking he might argue, but the beast in his chest is purring and he knows it isn’t worth it. Seeing her smile was more than enough, in truth. 

These moments were enough.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #my writing #i wrote this #anon asks #writing prompts

[brandyschillace]

I turned in the book manuscript for INTERMEDIARIES, the forgotten history of the first transgender clinic 1918-1933.

It follows the story of Dora Richter, the first transgender woman to undergo complete MTF surgery (not Lili Elbe; she was third!) It’s taken me two years of blood, sweat, and tears. A lot of tears, actually.

The Nazis raided the Institute for Sexual Science; they burned the library. They banned the books that remained. They attacked, arrested, and ultimately killed trans and homosexual people along with disabled people, minority groups like the Roma people, political opponents, and 6 million Jews. (One commenter suggested 11 million people over all, and really, that estimate may still be conservative).

The news today, 2023, reads a lot like news in 1923 with the rise of hatred against LGBTQ, attacks on reproductive rights, and increasing racism and antisemitism. The Nazis rose throughout the 1920s, coming into power 1930-1933.

The world said never again; we must now be the ones to stop a slide into hatred and violence. Before it’s too late.

Here is a preview of the book; it will be available for pre-order this winter (I hope), coming out in 2024.

#lgbtqia #trans woman #transgender #trans rights #homosexuality #transphobes #homophobia #wwiii #books & libraries #banned books #authors #i wrote this #writerscommunity #civil rights #disabilties #antisemitism

[akystaracer22]

Maybe in Another Life We Would Hate Each Other a Little Less

A chance encounter sheds a little light on Adam that Lucifer couldn't have predicted, leading to a moment he thought he'd never have with the man.

Notes (Aka my thoughts while writing):

God is a dick and I wanna kill xem

Adam folds his wings like a bird because monkey see monkey do

Both these guys were traumatised by the same person and we don’t talk about it enough

Probably Guitarduck/Adamsapple but in a fledgeling platonic kinda way

Refer to my ref for what Adam looks like!

I listened to Rät while writing this and- it kind of fits Adam???

Jesus is God’s favourite child and it fucking shows

How tf did this become a sickfic????

Lucifer gets the experience of being me whenever I make the impulsive move to boot up Char.ai and talk to literally any of the AI’s, get aunt agonied bitch.

Oh my god Adam has middle child syndrome.

Can you tell I attended a Christian school when I was younger???

Adam was hiding just how fucked over he was from the wing rot but he’s not having a good time in this. Most of the latter half of the oneshot is him dazed from both the one set of wing rot and the feeling of someone touching his wing.

Shit emergency wing HC for Adam ig: His wings grow warmer corresponding to his mood, as in when he is in general happier his wings radiate warmth and when he’s in a foul mood they’re just normal or even a little cooler.

In saying that yes Lucifer’s wings glow when he’s happy

Word Count: 1902

Fic under cut!

“Fucking- Shit!”

Lucifer paused, looking behind him and backing up to peek through the crack in the door. This ought to be good.

Sure enough, he was right, this was entertaining.

Adam was ranting again.

Honestly it was a nearly daily thing by this point, probably the only good thing about his daughters decision to let Adam stay at the hotel. He loved his daughter, he really did, by Adam was… Adam.

Lucifer knew he was a lost cause.

But still, didn’t mean Lucifer couldn’t tease the hell out of the man since he was stuck down here with the rest of them.

Lucifer’s smirk at watching the first man rant quickly died as he took in the guys appearance, he looked…

“What is wrong with your wings.”

Adam jerked and twisted around, scowling at him and oops he said that out loud didn’t he.

“Piss off!”

Lucifer, in his typical fashion, did not piss off and instead entered the room, “No seriously what is wrong with your wings.”

Now that he was closer, the king was certain they didn’t look like that a week ago. The feathers, while already having looked like a wreck were duller and the colours seemed almost… muted. Ignoring the already horrific state Adam’s wing were in, they shouldn’t look THAT bad so why…

“Wait-”

“I said-!”

“Have you not been preening you wings?”

Adam went silent, staring wide eyed at Lucifer much to the kings confusion. A beat passed, then two.

“What the fuck is preening?”

Lucifer blinked, he wasn’t serious, was he?

Surely not.

.

.

.

“By the heavens you’re dead serious.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Lucifer debated whether he should explain it or not. On one hand, it’s Adam. On the other, Wings were a serious thing. He’d even seen Husker cleaning his wings from time to time, for Adam to just not know…

“You know what? For once my hatred of you is outweighed by my need to show you what’s what,” The fallen seraphim huffed, closing the door behind him and summoning a chair to block it from the outside so Adam couldn’t escape. “Come on we’re fixing this travesty.”

“What part of fuck off you do you not understand?!” The first man snapped, his wings mantling as Lucifer rifled through the closet, dragging out one of the many jars of oil he’d had the foresight to put in most of the rooms, perks of being a guy with basic common sense.

“The part where you’re being stupid and my daughter started rubbing off on me,” Lucifer shot back, his own wings serving well to corral Adam towards the bed, “How you don’t know how to preen your wings is beyond me but that’s ending today.”

“Again- what are you blabbering about.”

Lucifer paused, hand hovering just over Adams feathers. Preening someone elses wings was… intimate. It was something reserved for friends, family, lovers, and stuff… not enemies. Was he really going to just go ahead and clean Adams wings for him?

The seraphim’s eyes flicked over to where the ruined wing was draped over the bed. The wing was already in bad enough shape as it was, if he didn’t do this then wing rot was bound to hit it at some point and-

He didn’t really have a choice, not if he didn’t want to watch someone die of wing rot again.

Adam went stiff under Lucifers touch as he started work on the mans functioning wing, it was the easiest to work with, not the mention the safest to start with. The injured wing would no doubt be sensitive to any interaction, so better to start small.

Ish.

Adam shuddered as Lucifer moved between feather’s, periodically reapplying preening oil as he went. He was right as usual, looking closer most of the barbules had been separated and needed to be locked together again. Grimacing, the seraphim gently scratched out what looked like dried blood from where it was hidden in the base of Adam’s Secondary coverts.

“What are you doing?” Adam whispered, his voice for once lacking it’s usual bite. Lucifer paused for a second in confusion before Adam’s wing flexed back into Lucifer’s hand, “Don’t stop!”

“Okay okay!” The king huffed, working on his primaries, “What I’m doing is called preening. It’s something beings with feathers do to clean them.”

“Like birds?”

“Yeah, like birds,” Lucifer agreed, “The oil helps take care of bacteria, but you got to realign the feathers, get rid of the ones ready to moult, and fix the feathers that are out of sorts, though you can just shake the feathers to do that part quicker.”

“Mhm”

Lucifer shifted over to finally tackle the ruined wing and froze, a chill slinking down his spine. As he took in the state of the tattered appendage.

“Shit.”

This close the seraphim could see the red pimples under the thinning layer of feathers surrounding the injury, it was wing rot in its early stages.

“What?”

“Nothing!” Lucifer dove his fingers into the scapulars to shut Adam up while he discreetly conjured up some disinfectant for the rot, if he’s lucky he can treat it now and just get Charlie or Vaggie to deal with it now, knock it over the head before it becomes so visible the others can notice. He ignored Adam’s breath hitching as the seraphim started, just as predicted, the wing was sensitive from the damage done to it.

“But seriously you need to do this more, this is just horrific,” Lucifer grumbled to himself, not really caring if Adam listened, “Honestly I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to you before!”

“Mmmm tried once… I think?”

Lucifer, glanced at Adam’s face, it was pointed away from him, but he could still sense Adam’s attention was on him, “Yeah?”

“Saw the birds doin’ it and tried to copy ‘em,” Adam continued at the prompt, spreading his other wing, “It hurt so I stopped, didn’ know there was a method to this shit or someth’n.”

“You… nobody even tried to teach you?”

“I think they thought I knew,” Adam chuckled sourly, “I think they thought I fu’kin knew how to just- do this. ‘Cause I was meant to right?!” Another laugh, “I bit the fu’kin apple so I shou’da known this kinda shit! Apple of knowl’dge or what’ver.”

Lucifer, wisely, didn’t say anything, he just kept working on Adam’s ruined wing, applying the disinfectant, and fixing what few feathers were still healthy and removing the rest. If it was anyone else in this situation he’s wrap the wing and tell them to rest but… it was still Adam that was in this mess.

“I- why didn’t they teach me? Luci why didn’t they teach me this shit?”

“I… don’t know,” Lucifer replied carefully, deliberately skipping over the butchering of his name that sounded way to close to a nickname for comfort, “Come on, up you get he still got the underside to finish then I’ll be out.”

Adam grumbled but complied, sitting up a little to turn around as Lucifer summoned a pillow for Adam to lean back on. Rolling his neck Lucifer got to work on the auxiliary feathers, the lighter feathers were definitely in better shape, but then again that wasn’t exactly a high bar, and they still were looking rough.

“Jesus was prob’bly taught how to preen himself.”

Lucifer’s shoulders hitched as his wings tucked in against his back abruptly. Jesus… was a rough topic. For all sinners talked about him, Lucifer never met him but from the sinners around that time… it was never a fun conversation. Pretentious once kings cursing his name while hopeless commoners lined up for the exorcists blade, faithful until the end that Jesus would let them into heaven if they just believed in him.

… there was a pattern in there, wasn’t there. Like father like son, he supposed.

“Jesus was made from me and yet he’s God’s favourite fukin kid, course he’d fucking know how to preen,” Adam continued unimpeded, “Doesn’t matter if I was Gods first- Jesus was always fucking better than me.”

Okay! Lucifer was in no way prepared for this conversation, but he highly doubted Adam was even going to remember this conversation, so he just focused on the wings.

“…Luci, do they all hate me?”

Lucifer sincerely wished Anthony, or just anyone really would bust down the door at this moment, at least then he could get himself out of this conversation.

“Why do you think that?” the seraphim deflected, moving onto Adam’s good wing and going through his coverts.

“Because none of them ever fucking did this,” Adam waved his hand haphazardly before letting it rest on his chest, “You’re my enemy but you’re fixin’ my fu’kin wings because I’m too stupid and useless to just figure it out myself.”

“Not useless,” The words left Lucifer’s lips without his input, damn himself to double hell, but it managed to shut up Adam, so he kept on the thought train, “You’re not useless you were just never taught, it’s not your fault heaven doesn’t think.”

“Jesus-”

“Is God’s prodigal son and shouldn’t be counted.”

Adam huffed and leaned back on the pillow, “Why’re you good at this?”

“I’ve had aeon’s to learn, and over a decade of putting it in practice,” Lucifer thought about his daughter, a small smile making it’s way into his expression, she really was the best thing to happen to him.

He finished up with Adams good wing and moved onto finishing off the wrecked one. Applying the disinfectant to the infected spots on the underside before reaching for the preening oil again.

“Y’know, maybe in another life we would’ve hated each other less.”

Lucifer just laughed and started preening the wing, yeah right, maybe in a reality where the apple incident never happened, “You’re sick Adam, feverish even.”

“And you’re a wife-stealer.”

“Should have been better in bed.”

“Fuck you,”

Lucifer stuck his tongue out at the first man, earning a tired chuckle. Then the seraphim blinked at the sudden warmth radiating out from the feathers. What in the-?

“Oh… they haven’t done that in a while.”

Lucifer blinked up at Adam who was staring at his feathers in amazement, “Ackde-whuh?”

Adam leaned back and closed his eyes, “Yeah… sometimes they just get warm all of a sudden it’s weird. Hasn’t happened in a while though. Apparently it sometimes happened when Lute was around? I dunno why.”

Lucifer blinked a couple of times before letting out a small “huh” and running a hand through the ruined wing, it was definitely warmer.

Sighing, Lucifer let his hand fall away despite the wing chasing it, “Alright well your wings are definitely cleaner now, so I’ll be out of your hair now.”

The seraphim stood up to leave through the balcony, opening the window and almost stepping out when Adam called after him, still sounding exhausted.

“I can see why they left me for you.”

Lucifer paused, before smiling sardonically and looking back at Adam, who looked like he might have just passed out.

“Tell me that when you’re not delusional from illness and I might believe you.”

With that, Lucifer stepped out and left for his own room… though, if Adam woke up to a small plush duck on his nightstand, that was between Lucifer and the god that cast him down.

But there is one thing Lucifer will admit.

Maybe Charlie wasn't wrong about thinking Adam could be redeemed.

Pings:

@sleepy-hijinx @whatataha @cyborg0109 @birbisanon @legogator @overlord-rey @luckyburgerz @spiny-dogfishes @justakidicarus

#adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel fandom #guitarduck #platonic #written by an asexual #fluff #fallen angel adam #fallen angel #wing fic #angst #tw swearing #tw mentions of wing rot #i wrote this #I wrote with on four hours of sleep powered by caffeine and a cold #adamsapple #ashes to ashes dust to dust

[sakura-hayashii]

02.26.24 - 1:28 pm

i was drunk on your love… and now that im sober… i realize it probably was never real from the start. im just another driver who missed the exit sign on the highway to heartbreak.

- S.H. // things ive never said #14 (via 2amthoughts)

#things ive never said #2amthoughts #personal thoughts #love #unrequited love #heartbreak #moving forward #heartache #mental health #betrayal #giving up #moving on #spilled ink #writing #writers on tumblr #original post #words #original #tumblr #original writing #aesthetic #poets on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled words #I wrote this #spilled writing #for you #sakura #sakura hayashi #hayashi

[sionisjaune]

George/Alex sex shop meet cute, ft. George's questionable customer service skills and unquestionable knowledge of inventory:

Alex finds himself in the sex shop because he has decided, after great deliberation, to face up to the fact that he is a bisexual man, and his occasional hookups require more equipment than he has in his flat. 

He tugs open the door which boasts a cheery little welcome sign that is quite possibly adorned with an anthropomorphized, ejaculating penis, and tries not to flinch when his eyes meet row upon row of phallic objects in glossy packaging. The bell on the door jingles as it swings shut, and Alex crams his hands in his pockets, surveying the aisles. 

Choosing to get the job done quickly, Alex rocks up to the first aisle and strolls past the shelves decisively. He chooses a dildo at random and pulls the box off the rack to examine it. The packaging reads EXTRA LARGE HOG in graffiti letters with a grinning devil waving a pitchfork underneath the logo. The dildo itself is grossly fleshy in a shade that would imply that the phallus’s owner (if it had one) was suffering from jaundice. 

Alex flings the dildo back on the rack, repulsed. God, maybe his own cock will have to do. He doesn’t know if he has the stomach to stay in the shop for long enough to make a purchase.

He’ll call Lily, he considers, backing away from the shelves. He’ll ask her where she bought her cute little rose thing and then order online with a hand covering his face, peeking through the cracks between his fingers. People have told him he’s good in bed, right? He wouldn’t get any less ass if his nightstand drawer remained empty of dildos and cock rings and butt plugs and whatever other horrifying—

While Alex spirals about the state of his sex life, someone down the aisle coughs. 

Alex’s heart skips a beat, and he nearly springs backwards, his trainers squeaking on the floor while he regains his balance. 

“You really shouldn’t buy that one,” says a pale, pinched, and actually rather fit employee standing two metres away from Alex. His hair is floppy and a rather ordinary brown, and his collared shirt is buttoned to the throat. His name tag reads George. 

“Beg your pardon?” says Alex, and nearly chokes swallowing his own saliva. 

“I said you really shouldn’t buy that one,” says George, sweeping a hand through his hair and frowning. “If you’re shopping for a missus, studies have shown that thermoplastic elastomers can disrupt reproductive health.”

“Missus,” says Alex, rolling the word over on his tongue. “Thermoplastic elastomer.” 

George blinks owlishly. “Yes. And if you’re shopping for a mister, TPE is porous, so it’s very difficult to properly sanitize,” he explains.

Alex shakes his head. He glances at the wall of dildos in their gaudy packaging and then back at George. His lanyard seems to be patterned with the same little walking, grinning pensises that the welcome sign bore. 

“What’s TPE?” says Alex, for lack of anything better to do with his mouth.

“Thermoplastic elastomers,” says George. “I just said.” 

“And those are?” says Alex. 

George runs a hand through his hair again and sucks in a breath. He steps towards Alex—which causes shivers to course down Alex’s spine, for some reason—and points towards the EXTRA LARGE HOG box. 

“Look,” he says, pointing to the corner of the box which bears writing so small Alex can barely read it. “TPE. Not body-safe.” 

“So,” says Alex, information whirling in his head. The fluorescent lighting is giving him a headache. The glare glancing off all the clear plastic packaging gives the sex shop a dream-like quality, like any second Alex will wake up erect and sweating through his covers. “So, why would it be on sale if it’s… not body-safe?”

“You see,” says George, his eyes lighting up. “Since sexual enhancers are classified as novelty items rather than therapeutic medical devices, manufacturers are able to exploit a gaping loophole and produce products for cheap using unsafe materials. For example, our top-selling Starbright Bangers—” George gestures to a display of pale, jellylike dildos of increasing length and girth. “—contain phthalates which have been shown in male animals to precipitate a greater risk of malformed penises, and—” George’s jaw snaps shut. 

Alex inhales, his hands balled in his pockets, staring straight into George’s giant eyes. “You can keep going,” says Alex. 

“No, I—” says George. “No. I’m done.” 

“So,” says Alex. He pulls his fists from his pockets and forces his hands to hang limply at his sides. “So I’m looking for a dildo.” 

“Ah,” says George, blinking again. “What kind of dildo?” 

Alex swallows. “Any kind? I’m not exactly an… experienced buyer?” 

“Okay,” says George, tilting his head back and forth. “Alright. Do you know what you like?” 

“It’s not for me,” says Alex, quickly. “It’s just that I want to… spice things up, in the bedroom.” 

“Ah,” says George, again. “So we’re looking for something versatile.” He spins to face the aisle, scanning the wall of dildos. He glances towards Alex, his dark brows furrowing. He really is rather pretty, Alex thinks. Pretty in that prim, poncy way that boarding school fantasies are supposed to be. Not that Alex has ever had any of those. 

“You never did tell me whether you’re looking for a missus or mister,” says George. 

“Either. Both,” says Alex, throat dry. 

George hums, tapping his foot. He squats to the floor, tugging a box off the lowest shelf. “Try this,” he says, handing it up to Alex. 

Alex turns the box around and squints at it meaningfully. The packaging is rather nondescript, offering a photo of the product (slim, blue, rechargeable) and the product name (SKINNY SATISFIER). 

“Great,” says Alex, pinning it under his arm. “Perfect. I’ll get this. Thanks for your help.”

George unfolds from his squat, rising to a height that’s maybe just a millimetre shorter than Alex. “You don’t want anything else?” says George, making his big owl eyes again. 

“I’ll just be on my way,” says Alex, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. “Thanks a bunch.” 

George’s mouth opens and then closes, a bit like a fish. Then it opens again. “You should probably get an anal plug,” says George. “Very popular. And you can get them without rhinestones on the bottom, if you're worried. We have all sorts. Hold on a second.” 

George dashes down the aisle while Alex remains frozen, dildo under his arm. When George returns, he’s carrying an armful of boxes. “Here,” he says. “Pick the one you like.” 

Alex eyes the mountain of boxes and the product images he can see. Some of them are rather feminine. He supposes he could use them on a girl. Or on a boy of a particular persuasion.

“They’re all… body-safe?” says Alex. 

George rolls his eyes. “Stainless steel. So, obviously.” He makes meaningful eyes at the heap of boxes in his arms. 

“Great,” says Alex, plucking one at random off the top. 

George lets out a breath and dumps the remainder on a shelf strewn with bottles of novelty lube. “I can ring you up over there, if you like.” 

“Oookay,” says Alex, fisting his dildo in one hand and his butt plug in the other. He follows George up to the cash where a scary-looking girl with teased hair and a lip piercing is ringing up a complicated leather harness. 

“Here you go,” says George, when he’s finished scanning Alex’s items and has presented Alex with a (thank God) plain paper shopping bag to carry them in. George plunges his hand into a jar beside the register, pulls out a handful of foil packets and drops them in Alex’s bag. “Every customer gets a free scoop of lemon sherbet flavoured prophylactics with a purchase of thirty pounds or more,” George explains. 

“Brilliant,” says Alex, wondering when he’ll wake up. 

George waves, his lanyard swinging against his shirt. “Shop again soon!” 

#i wrote this #galex

[filtharchives]

guys im so embarrassed i wrote this but as a Freak™ i firmly believe there is not enough omegaverse in this fandom so i gotta write it myself

hopefully i’ve improved some since last time… 🫣

summary: cove x reader - your sudden heat triggers cove’s rut and no one is home to stop you

tags: NSFW, takes place in Step 3, fem/afab reader, omega!reader, alpha!cove, traditional stuff (being a provider for spouse) cause tbh i also can’t deny the housewife kink in me lol, normal omegaverse stuff like knots and slick etc., first time/virginity loss, mating press ♡, reader is pillow princess-ing, breeding kink (you tried to be safe but he got impatient sorry), only a little size difference/kink and belly bulge

it was a hot summer day–too hot for even the biggest beach bum to spend out on the sand–and you and cove were lazing around in your bedroom with the air conditioner as high as your moms would let you put it, which was just enough for you and cove to cuddle comfortably in your nest with the condition that he was shirtless and you were in the flimsiest tank top you could find. .

cove was beyond thankful to not have a shift at the tropical restaurant today. he told you he thinks he would have died if he had to wait tables while the restaurant was full of sweaty, heat-agitated tourists whose scents would overwhelm his nose which was pretty sensitive, even by alpha standards. his comment got a sympathetic nose exhale out of you, which in turn got a playful pout out of your boyfriend. 

“don’t laugh. it’s not funny,” he scolds half-heartedly. “i really could’ve died in that situation. do you know how many sweaty, old alphas i’d have smelled? and they get so snippy when they’re sweaty and uncomfortable. if you knew what it was like working there, you wouldn’t be laughing right now.” 

“yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes with a smirk, feeling a little smug as he squeezes your waist in his arms and nuzzles his face into your neck despite his little rant. “but they still give you the big tips, don’t they?”

“only cause they smell you on me,” cove argues. “they think that i’m an alpha working solely to provide for my omega mate, so of course they’d wanna ‘help out’.” 

“then really, you should be thanking me right now, instead of lecturing,” you snicker, joking. “where’s my cut of the money?” 

“your ‘cut’ is everything i buy you with those tips.” he nips at your collarbone pointedly. “those alphas are kinda right–i am providing for my little omega.” 

my little omega. god, that sounds so delicious coming from his mouth, it almost makes you dizzy. and the idea of him taking care of you makes your inner omega purr with delight. you’re too busy fixating on cove’s words that you almost don’t notice cove perking up in surprise, his head lifting off your arm as he supports himself on his elbow. 

“you…” he pauses, sniffing. “you smell different. just now.” 

“mm?” you hum, looking at him with hazy eyes. you feel your body grow warmer and cove’s scent seems so tantalizing all of a sudden. cove seems to think the same about you, leaning back into your neck to sniff your scent glands, the arm he’s had over your waist moving back so he can grip your hip with his hand. 

“smells sweeter…” he mumbles curiously, practically shoving his nose against your skin. his hand squeezes your hip before moving to your rear to pull you close to him again. 

“cove-?!” you cut yourself off with a small squeak of surprise as he drags his tongue against your gland, your body shivering as his warm, wet muscle teases the sensitive skin. your hands press against cove’s bare chest as he rolls on top of you, caging you in his arms as his knees sit between your thighs. 

“god,” he hisses against your neck, voice not as soft and playful as it was moments ago. “i’ve always wanted to smell this straight from the source. it’s not the same coming from your clothes.” 

it’s only when he says that, that it clicks for you–your heat had arrived early. a few days early, in fact. and you feel silly, not recognizing it after several years of experience, but in your defense, the response from cove was far too distracting for you to put the pieces together on your own. but now that you know what changed in you, you also realize the change in cove was from his rut being triggered. by you. that thought warmed you up even more. cove calls your name. 

“tell me to stop, and i’ll go home right now. i can ask my dad to deliver some of my clothes and we can call, just like we always do,” he says, eyes shyly avoiding yours and staring at your stomach instead. “but if you want me to stay… i-i’ll take care of you. i think- no, i know i’m ready. to take this step in our relationship. b-but only if you are! we can hold off on it if you want!” 

he finally meets your eyes, looking a little frantic, as if worried he was too bold and would scare you off. still, you could see his arms shaking as he held himself over you, taking all the self control he had to not take you then and there. as much as you admired his restraint, your body ached for his. 

“i want this,” you respond breathlessly, feeling almost winded by the anticipation and desire running through you. “i trust you, cove. i want you to knot me.” 

cove turns bright red from his ears to his neck. he was hoping you’d say yes, but he didn’t expect such an explicit answer. 

“oh! o-okay, let me just-” he nearly throws himself off the bed, running out of your room and you hear his heavy footsteps race down the stairs. before you can call out and ask questions after processing his sudden disappearance, you hear him running back up the stairs. he returns to your room and shuts the door with his foot, arms filled with water bottles and snacks. he gives you a sheepish smile as he sets them on the shelf under your window. 

“for later, you know?” he says, fumbling nervously with the last water bottle before putting it down. “wouldn’t want you to get hungry or dehydrated.” 

you’d make a witty quip if you were more lucid, but his preparation and concern for you makes you preen and only more needy for the rest of the care he has planned for you. smelling the slick pooling in your underwear, the cute look is wiped off cove’s face and replaced by an almost uncharacteristic, wolfish grin as he approaches you and your nest again. fuck, this heat is becoming unbearable–you want him now, you don’t even notice you’re whining until cove’s in front of you on the bed again, cupping your face and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“don’t worry, i’ll take care of you, just like i promised,” he coos softly, his hands parting from your face to remove your shorts. he licks his lips again when he sees the large wet spot on your panties that had seeped through your shorts. 

“one more time: are you sure you want to do this now?” cove asks, looking into your eyes through his lashes. his breathing is heavy with the amount of self-discipline he’s exerting. his inner alpha is practically howling at him to get on with it and fuck you like an animal, but he loves you too much to give in when there’s still a chance you might back out. “i can’t promise i’ll control myself o-or be gentle past this point. but i’ll do my best to stop whenever you tell me! i-if you ever tell me-”

“please,” you all but beg, adoring his efforts but so over the waiting. “please just fuck me already, alpha. i hate waiting.” 

your interruption and desperation draw a small chuckle of disbelief from cove, but it also settles his nerves. he gives you an apology kiss as he tugs off your underwear, practically drooling at the unfiltered scent of your slick.

“sorry for making you wait,” he murmurs as he pushes your thighs apart, backing up on his knees until he can comfortably lean down and kiss your clit. 

you’re a sobbing mess as cove draws you closer to your third climax of the day, still only giving you his mouth and fingers. as much as you begged for his dick after the second orgasm, cove insisted he needed to make sure his knot wouldn’t hurt you, even if it meant straining against his pants uncomfortably while rutting against your nest. still, with how enthusiastically he was devouring your cunt, you can’t say he wasn’t enjoying himself as well. 

the slurping and squelching that filled your bedroom were lewd, but that was nothing compared to your mixed moans and the stench of sex that was probably stuck on your sheets by now. cove always got off on your scent during his ruts, holding your gifted, used panties to his nose as he jerked off, but the smell coming straight from your glands mixed with the taste of your slick on his tongue–he felt like he could cum untouched from those alone, but he needed to hold out until he could stick his dick inside you, even if he couldn’t actually breed you yet. oh fuck, the idea of you filled with his pups had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, even if the logical part of him knew you were both too young for that yet. still, he couldn't deny the idea’s appeal.

“cove!” you gasp, one hand tugging his hair as the other gripped the pillow behind your head. “‘m gonna cum again-!” 

you barely finish your sentence before you gush all over his face for the third time, and just like the previous two times, cove laps it all up eagerly, rubbing his nose against your overstimulated clit as his tongue parts your lips. you try to push him away but it’s only once he was satisfied with his cleanup that cove lets up to pull you into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. you moan into his mouth and whimper when he pulls away but you’re already too spent to chase his lips. he chuckles at your dazed state but is far from done. 

he gets off the bed and finally relieved himself of his pants and boxer-briefs and you drool at the sight of his big dick and the much-desired knot at the base. he nearly trips as he simultaneously hurries to your drawers while removing his clothes and digs through your drawer to find the condoms (that you’d told him your moms bought for you regularly once you and cove started trading clothes during your synced mating cycles. it was funny and embarrassing at the time, but now you were grateful). he grabs a handful and rips open the first one as he rejoins you in your nest, also ripping the condom inside in the process. he tosses it aside and goes for the next condom, only for history to repeat. he blows through two more, growling as you whine impatiently, before muttering “fuck it” and tossing all the condoms onto the floor. 

“i’ll buy you plan b later, okay?” cove assures you as he lines up his dick to your pussy with one hand, the other holding up one of your thighs. “just be good and take my knot, just like you wanted.” 

you moan a cuss and throw your head back on your pillow as he slides in, your endless slick and his careful preparation making it easy and oh-so pleasurable. cove hisses as he stops just before his knot, his now-free hand moving to your other thigh. you’re about to complain about the lack of movement but cove already starts pushing in again, watching intently as your cunt swallows him up with relative ease. you mewl at the stretch that was much easier than you’d anticipated–you’ll have to thank him later for making it so easy on you despite your impatience. 

cove stops again once buried to the hilt inside you, his eyes flick up to your face and, seeing you without any discomfort, grins. 

“look at that, omega,” he murmurs, his hand pressing gently on the small bump in your belly that disappears and reappears with each slow thrust of his hips, making your breath stutter. “your needy little pussy all stuffed by my cock.” 

playing nice doesn’t last long, however, as he quickly gets pussy-drunk and picks up the pace. 

“f-fuck~” cove groans, tossing his head back in pleasure while his hands grip the backs of your knees, keeping you wide open. he leans his head forward again, looking at your half-lidded eyes and drooling, moaning mouth with dark eyes. he lets your legs fall to his sides, choosing instead to lean forward with his elbows at the sides of your head and his chest pressed against yours, practically putting all his weight on you as he fucks you hard and fast.

the wet slapping of his balls on your ass and the sounds that leave your mouths are loud and lewd and surely your sister or one of your moms will come home soon, but cove really couldn’t care less when it feels so good. he’d always dreamed of having you on his knot like this, ever since he first jerked off to your scent, but having it for real was better than he could have ever imagine. so tight and warm, and the fucked-out look on your face was even better. 

“so cute like this,” he mutters, his face so close to yours and you try to focus your eyes on him but can barely keep them from rolling back. “you were made to take my knot. we fit so well together. fuck, i can’t imagine doing this with someone else. i should just claim you already.” 

the prospect of being claimed by cove makes you keen. his face is shoved up against your neck again, inhaling your scent like it’s oxygen, and he really is tempted to bite you then and there. 

“you’d like that, right? being bonded to me? oh f-fuck! oh, yeah, you do. tighten up so much at the idea…” instead of biting your neck, he moves his mouth to your shoulder and satiates that need. you cry out his name, both out of pleasure and disappointment. it feels so good to be bitten by him, if only it was where you want it most. 

his sweet words are reduced into babbles as he loses himself in you and you could admit that you’ve lost yourself long into this heat. his tip kissing your cervix and his knot stretching your lower lips is all so delicious, it’s overwhelmed you to tears.

“c-cove,” you gasp, clawing at his back, toes curling as you get closer. 

“mm-” cove grunts, picking up pace for the final stretch as he mutters thoughtlessly into your ear. “gonna fill you, omega… fill you with pups… all mine…” 

normally, the thought of being pregnant would would terrify you, but with a heat-clouded mind, it’s all you want. 

“please fill me,” you whimper. “cove- cove! wan’ your pups… please gimme pups, alpha…!” 

“agh- fuck!” cove’s arms cradle your head to his chest as his knot swells, locking him inside you. “gonna fill you,” he repeats. “fill you w’ my pups… my omega… all mine…” 

you cry out as cove’s hot seed fills you, clinging onto him with your arms and legs wrapping around his muscular body. he’s shaking and growling and still babbling as he cums, and his load feels heavy inside you, especially with his knot preventing any from leaking out. as he comes down from his high and feels fatigue wash over him, cove quiets down and at least finds the strength to lower himself onto you slowly, lying on you while his still-inflated knot keeps your bodies stuck together. 

you sniffle as post-coital clarity slowly comes to you, and your lust is temporarily pushed aside by your affection for cove. you gently comb a hand through his hair as your eyelids feel heavy.

“we’ll be like this for a while,” cove chuckles, cheeks flushed pink. “go to sleep. i’ll clean everything up once my knot goes down and when you wake up, i’ll still be here. we’ll drink and eat, and then we can keep going as much as you want. i’ll be right here.” 

his words of reassurance and the gentle rumble of his chest as he speaks is enough to lull you to sleep, as if you weren’t already totally spent. and yet, the idea of going for more rounds sparks your excitement once again, and you can’t help how your pussy briefly squeezes cove’s dick, making him gasp. you chuckle at his reaction as you finally nod off.

ahhhhhhhh omgggg !!!!!!! 🙈🙈🙈

#crying shitting throwing up #omegaverse #olba #cove holden #cove holden x reader #cove x reader #i wrote this #smut #cove holden smut

[mldrgrl]

True Lies

by: mldrgrl Rating: R Summary: Post-Terma, Scully can't help but think they need protection against any future kangaroo court congressional hearings and comes up with a rather unconventional solution that she proposes of Mulder.

Read on AO3

This fic took me two years to write. Literally, I looked at the start date on my google doc and it was April 17, 2022, and that's not counting the months spent forming it in my mind. I kept losing steam off and on and some days could barely form a sentence, some weeks I couldn't even write at all, but it's finished!

A big thank you for anyone that was reading it while it was a WiP! Let's never do that again! :D <3

#i wrote this #xf fanfic

[katsukikoi]

your so pretty

character; yuji itadori x f!reader + sukuna x f!reader

part 1 part 2

warnings; swearing

theme; Sukuna's past, yuji's crush. ( strong f!reader )

Itadori was new to the jujutsu world, he weaves around missions and finishes them quickly. Although, he can only do so much as a student.

So, since his “death” he has to stick with Gojo sensei.

He never minded, he actually rathers. He would happily do all of the tasks and missions the albino man gave him, with a smile.

“yes gojo sensei!” he would say, one hand with his thumb up, and the other on his hip. Unknowingly sassy.

He never could remember the pact he made with sukuna. Which made the poor boy drag his head in the mud.

Sukuna would often respond nonchalantly, always brushing him off and cursing him for being stupid. This would make the poor boy pout and huff, annoyed if anything. But, nonetheless he perseveres.

Gojo said he had a surprise for him, making the boy get excited hoping it was time to go back and re-reveal himself to the world.

"i have someone you need to meet!" gojo spoke, with a large smug smile.

"huh? i thought i wasn't allowed to see anyone.." he spoke, with a confused, but cute pout. He blinked like an innocent puppy.

"This one, wont make a peep." he winked, making the salmon haired boy even more confused.

"yuji-kun, meet your new best friend, y/n!!" he yelled out, opeing his arms out as he waited for her to appear.

"so, there is nothing there?" sukuna laughed, his eye opened under yuji's as he tried to slap him away.

"sorry i'm late, sensei. I got caught up." the girl spoke, walkimg into the door. Her jujutsu energy pouring out of control even sukuna could feel it deep in his soul. God, it felt so familiar to him. It felt like he yearned for it even after he was sealed.

There stood, a girl. Similar looking to gojo, a very small section of sleek white like hair on the front, the rest chocolate brown with golden strands in different places. Her eyes shined gold, the purest of the metal. Her eye lashes, long and thick, her lips, healthy and soft looking. Making sukuna gulp. He knew this woman, but where from exacting?

Yuji was a different story, the boy greeted her with a smile, telling her he like women like Jennifer Lawrence.

"nice to meet you, itadori-kun. Personally, i like men like senami shinazugawa." she bowed, much like he did. Her smile catching a sly fox look.

"woah! from the anime?" he spoke, excitedly.

"yes! you know it?" she excitedly giggled, looking up to the taller boy he nodded quickly.

"hmh! what episo-" before he could continue, gojo satoru laughed. Interupting them. " yuji, y/n. You two, are coming with me." he spoke, grabbing them both yuji by the hood of his jacket, while y/n bridle style. Making sure to cover her skirt from praying eyes.

“what? gojo satoru, are you using them for a human shield?” the cruse boredly spoke.

“hi! i hope you don’t mind :) i have students.” gojo smiled, brightly at the mt fuji curse.

“wah! he looks like mt fuji.” yuji spoke, grabbing y/n’s calf, in awe.

“hey brat, dont touch.” sukuna grumbled, his voice unheard as yuji ignored it. Still holding on to the poor girls leg as she glared at the curse.

“jogo? still looking homeless.” y/n spoke, a wild smirk on her face as she got out of gojos grasp to stand in the middle of the two men.

y/n clapped her hands, ready for a fight as a golden tattoo glowed, ready to be summed.

“neh, y/n. Hold back.” gojo smirk, petting the smaller girls head.

“eh!?” she spoke, huffing as she watched the scene play out.

As the girl zoned out, she didnt notice that the two of them, yuji and herself were currently falling to a spikey dead wood pile. “thats not good huh?” she spoke out a loud. she grabbed yuji as she moved her hand in front of her. “tsunami.” she whispered, summoning a great wave of water, destroying the pile of wood as she landed on top of the water. Carrying yuji bridal style.

“put the brat down. This is embrassing.” sukuna mumbled, sitting on his bones he watched interestedly.

Watching the girls every step, calculating her moves. He was tempted to keep all of his eyes open, just to make sure, but he decided against it. Thinking it was a waste of time.

———

“itadori, your curse-“ *smack* “energy is too high.” the girl spoke, reading a book next to him as she watched him get smacked for the 18th time.

y/n sighed, putting a book mark in her page as she stood up. She went behind the couch and patted the boys hair, making him blush and look up.

“ill get some food, kay?” she asked, making the boy smile, blush coating his cheeks as he nodded. “m’kay.” he squeaked out.

—-

“go yuji! you can do it!” she spoke, watching at the boy downed a weaker shinigami. Jumping for joy as she proudly taught him black flash.

its been 2 months since they got partnered up, not once has the king of curses made a peep.

until, “brat no.2 fight me.” sukuna’s mouth smirk, his eye glaring with blood lust.

“no, i wont let you.” itadori spoke, covering him. “sorry y/n-senpai.” he spoke shyly.

“sure sukuna. How many fingers you at? 4?” she asked, cracking her back and neck.

“extention.” sukuna spoke, smirking as he did so.

The tattoos filling yujis face as sukuna changed his look. y/n blushed abit as she looked away for a second before turning back to him.

She watched him come at her with full force like he did gojo. “i wonder.” she spoke, her long nail ripping her sleeve, “whale, of the jade chamber.” she spoke, a green whale the size of a large jelly fish swum around sukuna. Making him laugh, “really!? i overestimated you!” he laughed,

Y/n came at him with roaring speed, as fast as a full grown cheetah. Eyes shining gold, she let her knee fully hit his face. The whale growing more green as it amplified the hit breaking the mans jaw.

He groaned as he gripped his jaw, “you bitch.” he smirked, “i like it! more, give me more power!” he yelled, exitedly.

The girl tilted her head, as she watched the man pause sighing, and rolling his eyes. He let yuji return as he barked out in pain. “ouch!” he spoke, y/n rushed towards him, using her reverse technique to heal him.

“what happened?” he asked, thanking her.

“i.. sukuna happend.” she spoke.

—

“and i think thats the best episode we watched. Tengen is so flashy!” itadori gushed as he leaned on her chest has he cuddled her, so sweetly and kindly. so repectfully, and so innocent.

“hn! senami is better.” she spoke, playing with his hair letting her nails comb through.

They became close, this made her scared. Making her heart drop, what the hell did she do?

she stopped watching the series as she watched yuji, just looking at him made her heart flutter. “shit.” she mumbled, no one but sukuna heard. Not that she knew anyways.

The two teens stayed in that position until, itadori fell asleep. This caused the girl to yawn.

“you care for this vessel.” sukuna spoke, making the girl snap her head towards him. No longer was it yuji, but sukuna. Laying right where yuji was, unmoving.

“ha? i-“ she tried to lie, and look away, but she felt sukuna shift, making her move herself back, preparing herself for a future fight.

Sukuna looked at her, with praying eyes, a hunter; hungry for her blood. “tell me, bunny. why do you?” he grinned, stradding the girl, as she tried to calm her heart rate. She cant fight that well at night.

“so, what. why would you care?” she asked, as she watched him trail his fringers around her hip and collar bones.

She gulped as he became hyper fixated on this tattoos hands, a type of black dye coated his nails. She shivered, she continued to watch as they made contact. Sukuna moving her con with his finger, forcing her to meet his red crimson eyes.

“he doesnt deserve you.” he grunted out.

“what?” she asked.

—-

i hope you enjoyed, it was kinda shit ngl. But lmk if you like it!

dont repost my writing, translate, or rewrite.

Only, reblog, comment and follow. Sent requests too!

much love,

Atlas. 💣✨

#yuji itadori #yuji x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jjk x fem!reader #jjk series #x reader #fpyシ #tumblr fyp #fyp2023 #fanfic #jjk fanfic #i wrote this #writing #follow #like #please comment #jjk sukuna #jjk yuji #female #fem reader #female x male #slow burn #cliffhanger

[lvemenow]

another little collage / ig lee.jeyden

#artists on tumblr #my art #collage #queer artist #art #digital art #mixed media collage #mixed media #sketchbook #art journal #original art #contemporary art #i wrote this #nature #drawing #design

[hyperfixatedonthisnow]

Can’t get enough

*Not my GIF - also the GIF isn’t directly related to the story, but really who doesn’t need an excuse to look at those abs?

Here’s another thing I wrote. This one has even less plot than the last so, enjoy i guess!

Summary: Basically just shameless Nikolai x reader insert smut with a bit of fluff on the side.

Word count: 1.5K ish

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Smut, fem!reader, mention of oral sex, marking, handjob, P in V sex, unprotected sex & ejaculation (but they are married if that makes it better)

“You’re far too good at that,” you murmured as you came down from your high. Nikolai chuckled, the vibration against your over sensitive flesh making you squirm. Burying your hands in his untamed hair, you tugged him upwards. The self-satisfied smirk on his face would have been unbearably smug if he hadn’t just brought you to orgasm for the third time that night. He raised himself up on his elbows and pressed his lips to yours in a lazy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. Then he flipped over onto his back and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against his side. You snuggled in closer, throwing one leg over his as you ran your hand lightly across his chest and down, tracing absent patterns into his skin. He sighed contentedly, his eyes slipping closed. You studied his profile for a moment, wondering how you managed to get so lucky. Your mother had warned you that for women, sex was something to be endured rather than enjoyed. You were to allow your husband to take his pleasure as he wished, as was his right, and your role was only to provide him with a son and heir. Thankfully, the reality had turned out to be quite different and you had found Nikolai to be an attentive and unselfish lover. At first, you’d thought it was just a point of pride for him, a need to impress you when you were first married, but here you were years down the line and he was still as dedicated to your pleasure as he had been in the beginning, his own release always a secondary concern. In fact, you worried sometimes that perhaps he was neglecting his own needs in favor of satisfying yours, though of course he would never admit to it. Outside of the bedroom, he was just as thoughtful. As the newly crowned King of Ravka, his position was demanding, but he made a concentrated effort to put you first as much as he was able, and he rarely denied you anything that it was in his power to give. He could be a shameless flirt, but you knew without a doubt that he loved you, and you certainly loved him. You leaned up over him to press kisses to the tip of his nose, his eyelids, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and his lips quirked up into a smile. He turned towards you, seeking a real kiss but you pulled back slightly so you could trail your lips down his throat instead and he hummed his approval, tipping his head back to give you better access. You nipped lightly at his Adam’s apple and bit down gently on the corded muscle at the juncture of his shoulder, drawing a gasp from him as you continued your wet, open mouthed path to his collarbone. Letting your hand drift lower, past his navel, you raked your nails gently across his pelvis while you sucked a bruise into his skin. His cock twitched in response, the muscles of his toned abdomen dancing under your hand. You tilted your head up to look at his face, ghosting your fingertips over his growing erection. “Recovered already?” He didn’t open his eyes, but he made an affirmative sound as you took him in hand, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock to gather the bead of pre-come already leaking there and spreading it as lubrication. You grasped him in a tight fist, jerking him roughly until he was panting, unable to stop himself from thrusting into your hand. When you added a twist of your wrist on the upstroke and ducked your head to swirl your tongue over one sensitive nipple, he groaned, his whole body shuddering. He rolled towards you without warning, eyes still closed, his mouth somehow finding yours and his weight pressing you into the mattress. You parted your legs for him, allowing him to position himself comfortably between your thighs as he kissed you, licking slowly into your mouth until you were both breathless. When you finally broke apart for air, he rested his forehead against yours, looking down at you through his lashes. You reached between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his cock again and you felt his breath hitch. “I need to be inside you,” he murmured as you resumed stroking him. You raised an eyebrow, surprised that he wanted to go another round so soon. “Again?” He dipped his head to nuzzle at the hollow of your throat, trailing his hand lightly down your side. “Mmhmm.” “You’re insatiable,” you teased. “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement, mouthing at the swell of your breast. He captured one dusky peak gently between his teeth at the same time as his fingers found your slick center and you gasped, arching into him, your body straining for more. “I can’t get enough of you,” he admitted. His tone was playful, but the look in his eyes was soft as they raised to meet yours. You lifted your free hand to tenderly card your fingers through his hair and he smiled, leaning into your touch, before he moved up to claim your mouth again. You pushed lightly at his shoulder, urging him onto his back and he went easily, his hands settling on your thighs as you straddled him. You raised yourself up on your knees, splaying one hand on his chest for balance and grasping his cock with the other, giving him several firm strokes as you lined him up with your entrance. His eyelids fluttered closed again and he inhaled sharply, his thumbs caressing your thighs as you sank down onto him, pausing only when your hips were flush with his. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you at the feeling of fullness. You ground your hips against his experimentally, simultaneously clenching your inner muscles and he groaned loudly, hands tightening on your thighs, his fingertips digging into your flesh almost hard enough to bruise. You repeated the motion, the combination of his reaction and the added friction to your clit already enough to have you chasing release. You sat up straighter as you began to ride him, setting a hard, fast rhythm, lifting yourself up until only the head of his cock remained inside you and then dropping back down to take his entire length at once, your thigh muscles burning with the effort. Nikolai pushed himself up into a sitting position, bracing himself on one arm and tangling his free hand in your hair so that he could pull you in for a bruising kiss, swallowing your sounds of pleasure. You nipped at his bottom lip when he released you and his hands found your waist, helping rather than guiding as he began thrusting up to meet you, the deeper penetration sending you both hurtling towards release in just a matter of moments. He slipped his hand between your sweat slick bodies with practiced ease, determined as ever that you should reach your climax first but you had already decided that this would be for him alone and you would not be deterred. Lacing your fingers through his, you stopped him before he reached his destination and kissed him thoroughly to distract him from his goal. You moved your hips harder against him until his movements became frantic, losing all semblance of rhythm. “Come for me,” you commanded quietly and he did, the gentle caress of your voice in his ear exactly what he needed to send him over the edge. He cried out, his body taught as he spilled his seed inside of you. You clung to him as the wave of his orgasm crested and peaked, one hand in his hair and the other sweeping across his broad shoulders. You stayed that way, your bodies tangled together so intimately that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began, until your breathing calmed and the pounding of your hearts slowed to their usual steady rhythm.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai duology #shadow and bone #nikolai smut #king nikolai #fem!reader #reader insert #Zoya is my queen but not in this fic #p in v #shamless smut #shirtless Paddy GIF is giving me life #i wrote this #and i'm not sorry

[ineffablyruined]

Jealousy Comes on Swift Wings

My contribution to the Smut War over at @goodomensafterdark!

Rating: Explicit (18+ only please!)

Summary: Crowley's knight-in-shining-armor tendencies get him into a sticky situation.

**********

The angel stood back from Crowley and twirled his finger in the air, gesturing for Crowley to turn around.  Sighing, Crowley unfolded his wings, nose wrinkling in distaste at the feeling of several of his secondary coverts sticking together.

“Thanks again, angel. Though, I maybe could have done with less laughing.”

It was absolutely silent behind him. He couldn’t even hear the angel drawing in a breath. 

“Uh, Aziraphale?” He questioned, beginning to spin around again to locate the conspicuously quiet angel behind him.  Before he could make even a quarter turn, a hand gripped the top of his wing, ruffling some of his alula feathers and making them itch.

The grip tightened as Aziraphale bit out, “Don’t,” in a voice Crowley only recalled hearing once before in the back room at a magic show. A voice that had him stiffening in his pants immediately.

He opened his mouth to question the angel again, or maybe to make some excuse to leave - surely he could find another way to handle the situation, right? - but Aziraphale just repeated, “Don’t.”

Crowley fell silent as he grew even harder.

He heard a snap behind him, and then felt the warm, soapy water from a sponge stroking into his feathers. With each stroke, Crowley could feel the tension growing between them, but he didn’t understand why. Aziraphale had gone from musical laughter to complete seriousness in the space of a heartbeat.  Each gentle caress of his covert feathers sparked deep in his gut, but the uncertainty of Aziraphale’s mood stopped him from fully enjoying it.

Continue reading on AO3

**********

Thanks to my fantastic beta support!! As always - I appreciate you all more than I can say, @mrscakeishere, @polychromicron-persei-8, @paperclipninja, @adverbian, and @hakunahistata.

#good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #ineffable spouses #ineffable partners #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #otp: ineffable #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #azicrow #crowley #aziraphale #az fell #aj crowley #anthony j crowley #wing kink #i wrote this #ineffablyruined #ineffable smut war #scribblers of soho

[sailorshadzter]

Fic prompt: Jon and Sansa as parent-figures to King Rickon

OHHH ANON!!! thank you for this one!!! it was such a cute prompt & fun to write!!

i hope you like it!

send me prompts

“But I’m not yet tired!” 

The stubborn vocals belong to an equally stubborn young man, staring up at her from where he stands just out of her reach, his clear blue eyes defiant in their gaze. A sigh escapes her, but she cannot help but to smile all the same. “Come, at least let me get you ready for bed,” she encourages the boy eager to grow into a man, reminding her quite a lot of someone they’ve long since lost. “Then you may decide if you are tired.” The boy groans, but finally relents, nodding his head as he pushes past her to sink into the empty chair she’s standing beside. 

This is not their usual night time routine- he is a boy of the age where it is certainly not seemly to be cared for by a woman and he’s a crowned King no less, making him even less eager these days to be mothered by his sister. But, sometimes, even Rickon will admit he enjoys it when she hovers over him; he can barely remember their mother now, so when he thinks of her, in truth he thinks just of her, of Sansa. She knows that soon these moments will vanish entirely, so she will enjoy them as much as she can, while she still has them. 

Her first step is to unfasten the leather binding which his unruly red hair is tied back with- he’s taken to wearing his hair just as Jon does, secured at the base of his neck in a small bun. She smiles at the sight of it, as she always does, reaching for the comb sitting there on the tabletop. “You had quite the day,” she observes as she gently tugs the comb through his hair, careful of the knot she finds after the second stroke. “But you are coming into your own as King.” He looks over his shoulder up at her, blue eyes meeting blue, and he’s blushing at her compliment. Just like that, he’s a small boy once more, rather than this boy of thirteen she doesn’t always seem to know. “I am proud of you.” His cheeks, already red, deepen in color, and he turns away, hands twisting in his lap as she pulls the comb through his hair one final time. “There.” She steps back and sets the comb aside, crossing the room to pull his nightshirt out of its place in the wardrobe, laying it neatly across the tightly made bed. 

By the time she’s turned around, Rickon is standing there behind her, close enough now she can reach out and touch him, if she so desired. Seeing him there, tall and thin, makes her heart ache for the family they’ve both lost. If only their parents could see him now, if only Robb could see him now… They would be as proud of Rickon as she and Jon were. Rickon is the one to move next, closing the gap between them in the form of an embrace, one which is surprisingly strong for one so small. Sansa closes her eyes, wrapping the boy in her arms, wondering how this was the same babe she once cradled to her chest. “I love you, Sansa,” he says, his voice cracking over the syllables of her name before he buries his face in the crook of her shoulder. 

They stand there in such a way for a long moment, before she finally steps back from him, holding him out at arm’s length. “Good night, Rickon,” she says softly, leaning in so she can press a kiss to the top of his head. She slips away then, pausing for only one moment more, so she can hear his soft voice speak one last time.

“Good night, sister.” 

[ x x x ]

“Good! Just like that!” 

Those words are followed by one last clash of the two wooden swords, before a panting, grinning, sword swinging boy falls to the dirt to catch his breath. “You are better with each passing day,” the same voice continues and the young boy tilts his head back to look up into the face of the man that speaks to him. “Get up now, Sansa will have my head if she sees you in the dirt like this,” he says next, offering him a hand, which he takes readily, allowing the older man to help him up and back onto his feet as they both laugh. 

In the three years since his crowning, they have spent many afternoons in this way, for what sort of King would he be if he could not swing a sword? And who better to teach him than Jon, after all? Though, on the rare occasion Jon cannot spar with him, his sister’s sworn shield has, and Rickon must admit she might be the next best to his older brother. And though Sansa says he has no reason to learn the art of the sword, for they lived in peace now, Rickon knows he must be prepared- just in case the day ever does come where he must protect his home and his people. 

And the truth was, Jon thinks the very same way.

It was true, they did live in a time of peace now, but there was no telling when danger would arise once more. And Rickon, like every King in the North before him, had to be ready to fight alongside his men on the battlefield. He just hopes it will never again come to such a thing. Though he does enjoy the hours he spends with the boy, who is full of natural talent at swinging a sword, his stance often reminds him of Robb, who once upon a time was a boy eager to prove his worth to the world. “I am proud of you, you know,” he says as they make their way up the stairs, back into the castle. Rickon shoots him a sidelong glance, a look on his face that reminds him not just of Robb, but of their long dead father. “You will be a warrior king this world will not soon forget.” Rickon’s face breaks out into a wide grin as Jon slings an arm around his shoulders, tugging him just a little bit closer. 

As they make their way inside, they both see her standing at the end of the hall, like she’s been there waiting for them. Sansa turns their way as they enter and her face blooms with a smile, raising her hand in a wave, blue eyes bright in their gaze. Rickon slips away first, making his way towards his sister, who immediately begins to fuss over the calluses on his palms and the dirt on his clothes, sighing when he assures her this was all part of being a king. “Go on then, your grace,” she gives him a playful push towards the great hall, where inside supper was waiting to begin. “I hope he’s not dirty because you knocked him into the dirt,” she says as he falls into his usual place at her side. 

Jon laughs, shaking his head. “He did that himself,” he swears, leaning in so he can brush a feathery soft kiss to her lips. “Come, our growing boy king will have devoured all of the meal if we don’t get in there,” she rolls her eyes but takes his arm all the same, allowing him to guide her into the hall, thankful that after all this time, they have a moment such as this one. 

They were together and that was what mattered the most.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #anon asks #writing prompts #anon request #my writing #i wrote this

[onceandfuturewarlqck]

you cant tell me that merlin hasnt learnt how to use a sword after 10 years of following arthur and the knights around and watching them training.

you also cant tell me that arthur didnt personally decide to train merlin after he realized that the fool was going to follow him everywhere, head first into danger.

and you also don't dare telling me that gwaine, protective gwaine, the one that calls himself merlin's best friend (there is a bet going on about who is merlin's best friend, I'm pretty much sure, and merlin knows about this and just messes around with the knights for fun), didnt march straight to merlin, grabbed his arm, took him to the training grounds and shoved a sword to him because 'i won't have you dying for princess' sake, he already believes himself important enough'.

and you just TRY telling me that everyone else didnt jump on this train and started giving merlin tips or used him as a sparring partner as an excuse to teach him some swordfighting, and this goes on for years, and it becomes something natural and familiar between the inner circle of the knights, and then word spreads also outside of it and all the other knights, especially the new ones, are way too confused about who exactly this boy, this servant, is.

you shouldn't even open your mouth against me about how one day merlin is sparring against leon and they are just chattering and doing light footwork until things get animated and it turns into a real (even if friendly) fight and, under everyone's unbelievable eyes, merlin disarms leon, first knight leon, the second best after arthur. and merlin just shrugs this off, fawning over leon because 'you're not hurt are you??' and. leon just laughs. he completely cracks down and start laughing and gwaine swears under his breath and arthur is still looking at merlin like he has grown a second head (and, maybe, there's also some pride there. and something else we wont name) and percival whispers 'has leon been possessed?'

and youd be wrong if you think that, after that day, arthur doesnt call merlin into his chambers one evening and makes him sit at his table and there is a sword on it. and arthur tells merlin to pick it up, to tell him how does the blade feels in his hands, and merlin is like, 'sire, have you forgotten how to use a sword?' but arthur just ignores him and tells him to try it. and merlin does it, and tells him, a bit begrudgingly, that it's the best sword he has ever had his hands on, it flows perfectly, no hitch at all. and it is. it's beautiful and the hilt just fits perfectly in his palm, the engraved lines of a dragon pressing against his skin, the blade thin and light like air, almost bending at merlin's will. arthur nodding at this with something in his eyes.

and you cant change my mind that, when merlin goes to give the sword back to arthur, arthur just steps forwards and fasten its sheat at merlin's waist, ignoring the confusion on his servant's face (and if the tips of his ears are red, he doesnt say anything). 'you keep it,' arthur just says, brushing his hands against merlin's for a second, before clearing his throat and turning away.

you wont make me think that merlin didnt just stare at his king, at arthur, and then at his new acquired weapon, and then smirked (or tried to, it probably was a softer smile than he had intended), and said 'of course, my lord'.

and if, when in thoughts or anxious, merlin's fingers naturally touch the hilt of the sword, and if, when worried and agitated, arthur takes it upon himself to personally check that his manservant always has the sword he gifted him on his body, well. that's between them, and none is the wiser.

#merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merthur #merlin and arthur #merlin emrys #merlin is goot at swordfighting #you cant change my mind #i wrote this #my writing #merlin fic #merlin ficlet #headcanon #arthur is definitely weak for powerful merlin #bamf merlin #you cant tell me this boy didnt spend ten years with the best knights in the freaking kingdom for him not to learn how to fight #merlin doesnt need a sword but it certainly helps

[obsessedwithitall]

It's Embarrassing (Eddie Munson x reader) (Part 1)

I woke up this morning with this in my head and have been trying to write it all day. Also, I don't like smoking, I'm just going through a phase. Can you tell I've never smoked? I am the squarest.

Everyone is in their 20s, Eddie and reader have been in a secret relationshipish for a few months. Angst.

There is a part 2 I think. I just need to get the ending right. Feedback is welcome xx

Part 2 is here

***

You pulled your t-shirt over your naked body before you took the cigarette from Eddie, put it to your mouth and immediately started choking on the smoke.

He looked at you with concern. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you coughed, “super.”

“You have smoked before right?”

“Yeah.” You waited a second before shaking your head no. He gestured for you to give it to him and he took a long drag, not choking like you did.

“What?”

“That was hot.” You buried your face in his neck and he began to laugh. You in nothing but your t-shirt, Eddie in nothing but his boxers, yes, you could get used to this.

***

That morning was rushed as you and Eddie got up awfully late and then you had to go home for your uniform. The door to family video was already open when you got there, leaving your car quickly and running into the store.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry, I did the morning rush.” You rolled your eyes at Robin. There never was any morning rush.

***

The phone began to ring.

“Family video, how can I help you?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

A very recognisable voice came through the phone and made you drop your customer service demeanour. “Stop.”

“I can't help it. I missed you.”

“Its been like an hour.” You checked around for where Robin had gone but couldn’t find her so assumed she must have gone into the back.

“I'd say nearly 2.”

“An hour and 10 minutes is not nearly 2 hours.”

Eddie replied quieter than before. “2 whole hours I've been thinking about those cute little panties you left on my floor.” You blushed.

“I'm at work, you can't say that.”

“No one can hear though.”

“You should be at work.”

“I am.”

“Are you calling off the garage phone? Eddie, anyone could hear.” You tried to sound annoyed but somehow you weren't as mad as you wanted to be.

“No they won't. Its only me in now, everyone else had having an early lunch.” That relaxed you a little. “Anyway, you coming over again tonight?”

Your faced twisted a little, unsure if you should. “I don't know, I've gotta do laundry and I should probably clean my apartment.”

“I could always come help?”

“I don't know how helpful you’d be.”

“I could always help you with some of your clothes...”

The thought made you scrunch your face and attempt to hide a huge grin.

“Clean or dirt-”

Robin started her way back through the store to you, so you quickly cut him off.

“Thank you for calling madam. Goodbye.” Your voice quick and very dry, you slammed the phone down on the receiver quickly.

“What was that about?”

Hiding your blushed face by looking down you picked up a pile of videos and took them to the back of the store. “Erm... they were asking about Betamax.”

***

It had been a slow day. So slow that it seemed to go on forever. The sun had finally started setting when Eddie and Steve meandered into the store. Neither you nor Robin, who was sat on top of the front counter, greeted them when they came in, to busy staring into space and sucking on lollipops to notice them.

“What is that?”

Robin pushed the round top of her lollipop into your neck, just below your shirt collar.

“Robin, that's gross.” Your neck felt sticky now.

“That is gross. Who did that to you?” her faced pulled into a huge grin.

“Stop.” You pulled your collar down a bit and looked at your reflection in the tall windows. For fuck sake. You’d checked for marks this morning, clearly not well enough.

“Who was it? Did you stop over, oh is that why you were late this morning?”

“I wasn’t late.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“How did I not notice that sooner? Who was it?”

“Its noone.”

“Is it because those bozos are here?”

She eluded to Eddie and Steve hanging around the back of the store.

“No, its-“

Robin yelled across the room, “Munson, Harrington, get out.”

“Why?”

“She won't tell me who’s been attacking her neck because you two won't leave.”

If the ground would swallow you up now that would be wonderful. You could feel your face flushing bright red, and now not only Robin but Steve and Eddie were all staring at the purple stain on your neck. Steve with curiosity, Robin with disgust and Eddie with sick pride.

“I'm not going anywhere. I want to know who our dear friend has been slutty with.” Eddie sang. Why was he doing this to you?

“I'm not being slutty with anybody.”

“Who was it?” Robin asked again.

Then Eddie started with the rapid fired accusations.

“Was it Jason?”

“Ew.”

“Paul?”

“No.”

“Craig?”

“No.”

“Harrington?” Steve looked very confused and shook his head.

“Eddie-“

“Michael?”

“Stop it.”

You’d had enough. Storming away from the front counter you left your 3 friends behind and made a beeline for the employee bathroom, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Robin pushed herself away from the counter to follow you but Eddie stopped her.

“I went too far. I’ll go.”

***

The bathroom stall door shook as someone knocked on the wood.

“Go away, Robin.”

“Not Robin.”

You opened the door and Eddie was stood far too close, blocking your exit. Pushing him out of the way you threw your hands against the sink to hold yourself up and stared into the mirror.

“I'm sorry, I went too far.”

“You think.”

“Why don't you tell them?”

“I can’t. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“A reputation?”

“And this,” The bruise on your neck seemed to grow under your gaze. Everyone would know. What would your parents say? What would everyone say? Even if you covered it with makeup, Robin and Steve knew so all your friends would know soon. You snapped. “This is embarrassing, Eddie.”

All you heard was the bang of the bathroom door as Eddie stormed out, not saying a word.

***

You knew your car was going to be much warmer than any welcome you got from Eddie but you hadn’t seen him in a week, so you needed to talk to him.

Wayne answered the door and your heart sank.

“Hey, sweetheart. He’s not here.”

“Oh, ok. Thank you. When he comes back, can you... ask him to call me? He’s got my number and everything so...”

You stepped back on the porch slightly, before thinking again.

“And if he’s needs to um, I know your line isn’t always good, so if he's got to use the phone down the street, can you give him these?”

You placed at least 2 dollars worth of quarters in Wayne’s hand and smiled a tight-lipped sad smile at him. He nodded and showed you the same.

Wayne watched you get into your car and drive off before he shut the door. Eddie stood in the kitchen pulling at his lip.

“You going to call her or what?”

***

Part 2 is here

Any feedback is welcome and encouraged. Thank you so much for reading 💜💜💜

[I only watched the first 7 episodes of season one of Stranger Things so I'm sorry if it feels wrong. I will not be watching anymore]

#eddie munson #angst #secret relationship #love bites #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #fluff #i wrote this #its embarrassing

[sionisjaune]

In light of this, please enjoy some scraps of a charles/damiano pwp that is languishing in my gdocs. Dedicated of course to kay @onadarklingplain, vice president of charles/damiano nation:

It’s Damiano’s apartment, and Vic and Ethan are sharing the spare room, and Thomas flops on the couch, leaving Charles with—

“Come on,” Damiano says, beckoning. Charles follows him to his bedroom. He can hear Victoria snickering down the hallway. 

Charles doesn’t know what he was imagining, but the bedroom doesn’t look like the kind of room that would belong to Damiano. All traces of leather and lace are conspicuously absent. Charles must have been picturing a—a sex dungeon, or a coffin that Damiano rises from at dawn like a vampire, but there’s a bed in the center of a blandly carpeted room and grey sheets on the bed. It looks like Charles’s apartment. 

Damiano strips to his briefs, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor, and digs inside the nightstand until he produces a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Charles watches him crack open the window and light one, sticking his head out into the night each time he takes a drag. 

“You know those are bad for you,” Charles says. “You can do a test where they measure your lungs, to see how good they are working.”

Damiano shrugs. “I’m a rockstar. I’m supposed to be bad for me.” He lifts his wrist from the window ledge and offers the burning cigarette to Charles. Ash floats from the end and lands on the carpet. “Want one?” 

Charles shakes his head. He doesn’t understand how Damiano isn’t shivering with the draught coming in from the window. “I’m not allowed in my contract,” he says. 

Damiano pulls his head out of the window and fixes Charles with a weighty look. The black lining his eyes is either smudged eyeliner or abject exhaustion. Both are equally likely this time of year. The band are finished touring for the year, and Charles is done with his disappointing season, and both Charles and Damiano have their respective breakups, too. It’s only three days before Christmas, and the kind of evening Charles could entertain loosening his grip, just for a few hours.

“I’d walk out if that was in any contract of mine,” says Damiano. “And anyway, one puff won’t kill you.” He extends the cigarette for Charles, wedged between two tattooed fingers. The cherry burns bright orange, a jolly invitation.

“No thank you,” says Charles, swallowing. Damiano just shrugs again and sucks down the rest of the smoke, flicking the butt out the window. 

Damiano shuts the window and tosses a bundle of clothes at Charles. “Bathroom’s there,” he says, cocking his head to the right of the doorway. “You can ignore Ethan if he’s in there—doing whatever the fuck to his hair.” 

“Okay,” says Charles. He swallows again. His throat is inexplicably dry. Instead of clutching his borrowed pyjamas and trudging to the bathroom, he drops the bundle on the floor, strips out of his shirt and pushes his jeans to the floor. 

Damiano lifts an eyebrow, leaning his hip against the window frame. Charles stands there, in his boxer-briefs, breathing in the acrid after-smell of Damiano’s cigarette.

“I thought you were never going to get it,” says Damiano. “It’s been a while since my routine took this long.” 

“Your routine,” Charles repeats, sliding his fingers into his own waistband. The hair beneath his navel prickles, just beginning to grow back after waxing. 

“Yeah,” says Damiano. “You know. The one where I let my groupies follow me back to my apartment three days before Christmas.”

“That can’t be a routine,” says Charles, thinking about the girlfriend-shaped mess he got himself into the last time he invited a fan back to his apartment after a consolatory yacht party. 

Damiano gives him a terribly obvious look. “Come over here,” he says. 

Charles closes the distance between them with steps that feel clumsy but are by all accounts quite normal. He and Damiano are exactly of a height, standing close together, but Damiano’s wild hair, curling at his cheekbones, and the makeup around his eyes, make him feel larger, realer. Charles can see the errant speckles of glitter in Damiano’s eyebrows and the red rims of his eyelids. The script tattooed on his collarbones reads IL BALLO DELLA VITA, and one of his nipples is pierced and inked with a heart. 

“You can touch me,” says Damiano, raspy. 

Charles licks his lip and traces his fingers over the naked woman on Damiano’s bicep. 

“You like women?” says Damiano. Charles nods. “And men?” says Damiano. 

Charles retracts his hand from Damiano’s arm and replaces it at his side. He looks Damiano in the eye, sharply. “What do you think,” he says. 

Damiano laughs—a small, throaty noise—but he places his hands on Charles’s waist, thumbing at the muscles of Charles’s abdomen—all of his blank, tanned skin. 

“I think you’ve been denying yourself,” says Damiano. His thumb strokes over the skin above Charles’s waistband, and Charles shudders. “You keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed to have what you want.” 

“I can have it,” says Charles. He leans in. 

The kiss tastes like ash and smells like Damiano’s leather and cherry cologne, and Damiano has enough hair that Charles can get his hands in it and cling. Damiano’s torso is wiry and thin against Charles’s, but he has the muscle to jerk Charles around, to spin him and back him up against the bed, so that Charles’s calves are smacking the bed frame, until he has no choice but to tip over and fall into the sheets. 

Damiano stays on him, kneeling over Charles’s torso and mouthing at his neck. He scratches his varnished fingernails all the way down Charles’s chest on his way to Charles’s groin, pausing to leave a sucking bite on his hip. 

“What do you want, Charles?” Damiano asks, his cheek pressed to the shiny material of Charles’s boxers. Charles can feel the vibrations of Damiano’s throat in his dick. He wants—he wants to resolve the tense awareness that’s been vibrating between himself and Damiano since the first meeting—when the show ended, and Damiano stumbled offstage, nearly naked and drenched with sweat and turned his dark eyes on Charles—sharp and sober although Damiano was obviously exhausted—and Charles had the sense that Damiano was everywhere around him, like Damiano was leeching out of his own skin, unable to be contained by one human body. 

“I want,” says Charles, squirming. How can he even say it? He wants the crushing force of Damiano directed at him in a concentrated beam. He wants to open Damiano up and pour him out and soak in him. He wants to invite Damiano inside his body and take him to the track so he can feel what Charles feels.

Damiano crawls back up Charles’s body so that his face is hovering above Charles, his hair falling in a dark, tousled curtain. He brushes a knuckle underneath Charles’s eye, and it comes away wet. 

“I’m going to choose,” says Damiano. “I want to do a lot of things to you.” His thumb finds the hinge of Charles’s jaw and presses until Charles’s mouth opens. His throat clicks when he tries to swallow. “Can I fuck this?” Damiano asks. 

Charles nods mutely.

-

Charles wakes under the covers—Damiano's foot is touching his calf, and his face is mashed into the pillow, contorted weirdly.

Charles leaves him there and wanders out. A smell wafts from the kitchen. Victoria and Ethan are cooking pancakes over the stove, in their underwear. Thomas is wrapped in a fluffy robe, reading an honest to God newspaper on the couch. Victoria is gesticulating with her slim vape and speaking rapid Italian while Ethan flips the pancakes expertly.

When Charles walks in, Thomas gives a low whistle and a slow clap. 

Victoria pauses and spins around. Her eyebrows climb towards her hairline. "Shit," she says, turning Thomas. "We owe E twenty euros. He had December 20th." 

"Fuck," says Thomas. 

"Good morning!" says Ethan, dumping the pancakes on a plate.

#i am a damiano buzzcut denier... and i'm proud of it #charles/damiano #i wrote this