Grabs You. I Have A Thought I’d Like To Share…

Thinking about lovers sharing a group chat,

Not the love triangle bullshit of "noo they can't find out about each other" but the-

Sharing photos at the most inappropriate times.

Starting as a joke, something small and dumb.

Just a picture of you shirtless one of them took, or sharing the lewds you each took. It was quicker this way. Everyone could see it, so there was no need to forward anything or have the risk of sharing it with the wrong person.

Until you were stuck in some or another meeting, it wasn't mandatory to attend, but you were practically threatened to stay by your higher up. When your phone silently buzzes in your pocket.

Welcoming the destraction and swiping on the message, not thinking much about who sent it. You practically choke when it loads on your screen.

It was your lovers. One tattooed hand holding the throat of your boyfriend, his eyes glazed over with lust and your other boyfriend looming over him, both equally naked. The next, this beautiful picture of your lovers pierced dick disappearing into the other. The same string of tattoos holding him in place with a firm grip. Then when they saw you were actually looking at it... well, they didn't stop at just two.

And that wasn't the last time.

But it was when you got involved.

Sharing quickies in a bathroom or nudes from earlier in the day. Even the more... intense things.

See, you quickly learned that your tattooed lover had a thing for being filmed. That his eyes would wonder to the camera just to roll back in his skull. Putting on even more of a show so he could proudly share just how good he made either of you feel later.

And fuck if it didn't work.

absolutely losing my mind over gaz putting his dog tags on you and then tugging the chain when he wants to kiss you. like he absolutely loses his mind, goes feral and whispers against your ear calling you his. like his tags are a claim over you.

“these tags make you mine, my pretty one hm?”

I'm not even gonna fix the grammar on that... hung over me has fun ideas.

And yes, hung over me did start writing and yes. Even I can't read it. Being dyslexic and drunk doesn't make for the best ease of reading.

May or may not be hung over thinking about a feline könig.....

Fuck it.

Km gonna write it.

Don't mic alcohol kids, never drink clear liquor, then drink after cloudy. Don't dink more than one kind of alcohol. Stick to what you started with, with water between.

Prob the only reason I'm conscious today.

Surgery took over 2 hours....

I am in pain.

Well, turns out the pain I'm in isn't normal...

I'm going into theater today. So they can check if it is what we think it is.

I don't know how this happened....

But I'm forever grateful <3

One of the things I will always love The Amazing Spider-Man for is the movie's depiction of Flash.

Don't get me wrong, the other renditions have thier merit but consider:

When Peter just got his power, just started feeling powerfully, just became stereotypically attractive, just got his eyes fixed, just starting to get his life together, just got everything he could wish for in his analytical mind. Ben dies.

He loses another Father, no matter how inconsequential, no matter how hard he tried to do something, he missed it.

Then the whole Flash and Peter fight over 'blonde hottie' and yes cliché but,

Peter has flash by the collar, up off his feet, and is so fucking angry. At himself, at loosing, at the death, and at that greedy money hungry fighting boss but Flash says one thing.

"Makes you feel better, doesn't it?"

Something along those lines,

1- This makes Flash a complex character. Yes, he is now "the abuser becoming the abused." but it's also the complete opposite for Peter, who becomes "the abused become the abuser" and as horrid and morbid as that alone is (and as much of it is bull) it makes Flash a real fleshed out character. He isn't cracking knuckles, making bruises, drawing blood, or being harmful and angry because it's fun. It makes him feel better. It probably made the people who raised him feel better.

2- In some way or another, Flash understands pain. Whether the pain he causes or the pain of grief. And the way he copes, or uses that fear, that grief, that anger, that useless feeling of 'why didn't I stop it?' By creating more pain he can control. So Flash is sympathetic. He is giving Peter the release he needed.

3- He could have been taught this reaction. Maybe it's generational. So he sees his overworked and sad parent hurt him, or his environment and somewhere somehow it helped Flash when he did it. Maybe it's from something else, but he is creating and / or continuing a cycle of abuse.

4- [it isn't that deep, and Flash is just Sadistic and likes seeing pain.] Point still stands, but you know.

And all it took was one line.

"Just, please... please. I'll beg."

Poly_TF_141 x sex-demon_reader Prt:2

Read part 1 here 》 ....

A_N:... Continuation of the previous! This is part two, and to do with Werewolf Soap going into 'heat' but not the abo kinda heat. Soo, expect more wolf like behavior, and again, the same warnings apply.

CW.|.TW:... Sexual content. Intended male reader. Bottom but Dom reader. Polly-cule TF 141. Religious depictions of demons. Allusion to Reader having an Eating Disorder and the recovery there of. Ghost x Soap x Reader

It had taken some time and effort, but finally, finally, you were OK with the casual emotion that the team shared with one another.

Being a permanent member of the team seemed to help. You even put on weight in the recent months that you've actually fed semi regularly, although it wasn't anywhere near what you should be getting but it was miles better then the months you used to starve through.

Price made sure that any time between missions, there was some form of sexual intention in his team.

Not the hardest thing when all of them have been intemit with each other for years before you joined in with the physical side of things. And Price let you have your fill of him whenever he saw that drop in you again.

But someone else came knocking that night.

A blushing Soap who was leaning heavily on your door frame, looking almost shy for his bulkier body. He hardly says anything as you beckon him in. Eyes still down cast even as he leaves the door ajar and is sitting all but an inch away from you.

"I wan'ed te ask ya if yeh would..." he starts, blush spreading down his neck. "Can ye. I just wanted.."

That's when you felt a pulse of a sweeter emotion, a spiking arousal that was tainted with a primal urge. This absolute need for something so deeply sexual it was practically making your mouth water.

"Your lycanthopic urge?" You question,

"Aye, my heat kinda snuck up on me." He answers with a curt nod. Still not looking at you.

Your fingers find his chin, easily lifting his stubble edged jaw, so he was nose to nose with you.

Soap had dilated pupils, only elipsed by this thin sliver of his irus. Those needs already making his mind want to lean in and chase those lips of yours. Instead, he flicks his eyes back up, that emotion growing thicker, sweeter, with the movement.

"Just please..." he half begs, already so desperate. "Please. I'll beg. I'll go away if ye don't wanna, but I just.."

"Ok, I will lend you help."

You've hardly gotten the sentence out before Soap jumps you. Stealing breathless kiss after breathless kiss.

Guiding your hands to his skin, slipping them under his clothes, and soaking in the warmth with your skin on his. He gets so touch starved, so sensitive to it, when he's like this.

You near fucking his throat with a long split toungue isn't helping him think any more coherently. He tried to ignore the gentle tangle of your hands as you started getting him undressed. Body more demonic with the crackling desires streaming from Johnny's need for intimacy.

"You still got your mind in one peace there lad?"

A deep rumble follows from the door, Ghost standing there with his head tilted. Commenting, "Dumb Mutt just got one thing on his mind."

"You came to watch or pass along something or another."

"Oh, I wanna watch."

Simon crosses the distance from the door to your bed in two quick strides, fingers gliding in the panting Soap's hair. Pulling him back by the grip he has on the werewolf's Mohawk.

"Mainly to see this one don't hurt ya, hun. But to see if yah would need help."

Johnny rolls his hips against your thigh, toungue lulling out past his fangs and bruised lips. Eyes unfocused as he tries to keep his body still while miserably failing.

"Can get a bit one tracked and forget who's helpen 'em. And Price warned me yah got a habit of ignoring yourself."

"Acceptable. Just help me strip him before he cums in his pants."

"Alright hun."

You end up kneeling with Soap, hopelessly humping against your thighs with you stretching out your back so you can reach for Ghost as he leans back. Your hands trace over the fat of his thighs before using your tail to wrap around Johnny's waist, keeping a firm grip to help him actually get what he wants.

His cock already painfully hard, pulsing with each beat his heart had. He was happy to be pulled to where you wanted him, all but panting into your nape as he ruts up against you.

It's always that first breach that knocks the breath from you, but Soap sits still after he's fully sheathed. Just trying to feel as much as he can with skin against skin as that lusty haze fills his mind.

When he does start moving, it's at a brutal pace. Hardly pulling out before shoving back in all the way. Jolting your whole body.

That thickly suffocating emotion had your throat vibrating in the closest thing your kin could produce to a purr. Easily keeping him steady and against you with your tail. You could feel his back tense and ripple with each roll of his hips, with your tail snugly against his waist as he licks along any skin he can.

You heal too fast for him to see the hackies he's working along your shoulders, but the darker marks of his teeth do stick just a bit longer.

It's Simon who traces the rivets of your ram like horns, eyes watching the hitch in your breath. Fingers ever so gentle as he traces all the dents and scrapes along them; careful to rub his palms down the curve against your skull. And you can taste the lust that's just as strong from him.

When Soap had cum with a snarl, as he bared his teeth against your spine, you could feel how the tired feeling was pulsing along the need to keep going. He was hard and needy as he couldn't set a rhythm with the fatigue settling along.

He must have tried to get off before getting the courage to ask for your help.

Feeling a bit sorry for the werewolf, you roll him over; turning to face Simon as you hover over Johnny's body. Watching as Soap mouths over Simon's dick through his boxers, those sex blown eyes watching him.

When you started the roll off your hips, against the shivering Soap who moans egging you on; you saw Ghost lift his gaze. Watching you ride the other with ease.

"Shit." Ghost comments,

He hefts himself up to his knees, nearly covering Johnny's face with his crotch. The wolf didn't seem to mind. Just mouthing and licking at all he could reach. Soaking more of the fabric with his spit.

"Price gave this view no justice when he told me 'bout it."

Redoubled your efforts as more warmth flooded you, but Soap didn't soften. He only meets every roll down with a thrust up.

"Don't know why any of you enjoy it, and not the action."

Johnny is whimpering under Ghost, body trembling in over stimulation. Mind lost in the throws of the absolute pleasure you're helping pump through his very soul.

"More ta do with ya looking like yah enjoying yaself then the act alone."

"You have to be none-"

Those fingers dance over your horns, finally pulling a quiet noise from you. He leaned into you, sharing the quick hiffs of air you're both taking.

"That," Ghost repeats the action. You don't moan this time, but the effect is still evident. "Is what we enjoy of this."

"Prove it."

"Gladly hun." Before his eyes roll back into his skull, "Fuck... watch the teeth soldier."

Soap had pulled his boxers off with just his teeth, getting to his dick. At the comment, Johnny bared his teeth against the intimate skin of Simon's inner thigh. So close to him that the danger runs his blood just that bit hotter.

And for all that Ghost likes the danger, that bit of pain, he doesn't actually want to bite him. And not nearly as hard as he bites at you.

"He will tire out soon, just a warning."

Simon clasps at your horns, pulling you closer by them.

"Not for long hun, he'll be up and wanting more in no time." He presses his lips against yours, mumbling with a smirk, "and I wanna tag team him when he does."

Fucking finally done... but then maybe next I'm thinking a Vamp oc, with blood play or pain play.

Cuz you know, the whole cannibals ruite.

Anyway,

Thank you for the people who tagged their thought in their reblogs <3 <3 <3

You have the best ideas <3

All I can imagine is a reader who lives in a continent full of monsters.

One of the only humans there, or well. Human adjacent.

You make some of your money by being a health care worker for the monsters here, not a healer per say but the closest thing to one any of them can get. You're the go-to for cuts, scrapes, bruises, and dislocated limbs. Even for the more, not human side of the residents.

There's nowhere else to go. It's you or deal with it alone.

You learn their stories, or their scars, even the trauma they have to carry. Like the deep forest Naga, whose flares dull when the clouds start to gather. Or the lycanthop who couwers at any loud sound. You are the only one the youkai trusted to help.

That's not the only way you make your money to keep the medical office stocked.

Many of the creatures or monsters can "shed" certain parts. Like the vampire's teeth, they shed those fangs neat yearly, or the avians, the false angles, who mault. But other times, when things like corpses or amputations are a must to hold. You can use those parts, too.

What did those human rulers who exiled you expect?

That a mortician would just be happy to sit down and watch the people around them fumble with basic injuries and watch those small little cuts fester and rot, let alone the major injuries that come about.

You had a fucking medical and veterinary doctorate so you where going to use it.

If that means dismantling the dead or selling off the things you don't keep for study or as trinkets to keep that medical practice open?

Then gladly.

Cant stop thinking about the COD men interaction with a K-9 unit reader who copies their K-9 partners noises.

Everything from growling with the hound to whining or even having dog like mannerisms you know?

<first part is done it!!!!>