#BUT ITS STILL PAINFULLY ACCURATE

[something-in-your-walls]

going insane over the incorrect quote generator Lavatore: I'm so happy, I could kiss you!  Jasper: Um...Neat.  *later*  Jasper, lying face down on his bed: I said "Neat," Caroline. Who the heck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm freaking stupid.  Krupp, reading a book: Don'tcha beat yourself up too much, Jasper. As much as I hate to ‘dmit it, even I get nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Sneedly ranted ‘bout how much I meant to him as a rival?  Jasper: Didn't you thank him?  Krupp: *closes the book and looks at the ceiling* I fuckin’ thanked him.

[ginnysgraffiti]

jealousy, unprotected sex, violence, anger, cursing, fingering, fainting, 18+

&. PAUL ATREIDES x yn

could you blame yourself?

no, not really.

not the way you claimed it, at least.

you always placed so much trust and respect in the visions that paul witnessed in his dreams, for they usually concerned the holy war or future events not clear to his complete awareness yet.

however, you never expected something like this.

you couldn't say exactly if it was due to the fact that you and paul had established an increasingly stronger connection and intimacy, but you were sure that it was definitely because of other factors.

paul and his intuitions had been (disturbingly) accurate for weeks, and your boyfriend was even able to see your sexual needs in his visions.

you liked it, yes. it turned you on like hell, and you knew it had the exact effect on him.

you recognized paul's gaze when he had visions of that kind, you glimpsed it through his hungry eyes and you experienced it when his strong hands destroyed your body.

you lived with a certain constant tension, but your inner self knew that you just wanted that moment to come.

"shut that fuck up! take my cock like the slut you are!!" paul's hand slapped your butt, causing a bitter tear to fall from your face.

this excited him greatly and with his other arm he twisted your legs around his waist, making you arch your back to welcome his wet and warm dick as deeply as you could.

you didn't know if it was your fault, but paul was so furious he would have swallowed you alive.

"look at me in my eyes, damn it! or do you want me to call him, uh? to call your beloved feyd rautha and make him fuck you like i do!?"

"paul-"

yet another thrust of his hips brought your hip bones to clash painfully with each other.

you left a loud and pleading moan but his quick fingers choked you in time and reduced it to a pathetic strangled scream.

"who's the one who touches herself while feyd's name slips down her tongue?! her damn fucking tongue! uh?!"

"p-...paul it was just y-y...your vision-"

deadly move.

the bed creaked and for a moment you imagined the springs surrendering to its bloody rhythm.

your boyfriend grabbed your hair mercilessly, almost detaching them from the roots, while his cock was destroying your inner walls beyond limit.

you were crying, but you were just choking on your own moans and sobs, like a sinful child.

it was just a vision, in fact...but now he was going so rough and raw that crying more made you feel real slut.

your sight was still granted to you, even if your retinas were caged in tears as hot as spice.

you could see him, see your boyfriend taking your pussy with a heavenly expression on your face, perhaps the one you wore in his dirty visions.

his mouth was wide open with pleasure and his eyes closed with excitement. he moved his hips for his own burning pleasure, making you aching, sore and wet all in.

"i don't know what would turn me on more, maybe you really deserve to end up in his maniacal arms! you would regret it of course, but it would be too late to go back!!"

you wished somebody could hear you for your own sake.

the wet and sticky tip of his cock was roaming roughly inside you, but the initial pleasure had reduced you to an unbearable burning sensation. you could feel your chest confiding with every sob, but his hands would travel again, landing on your throat already full of purple, almost black bruises.

"you're so soaked, you little whore. you don't even deserve it, on my sheets!!" he groaned, his own anger causing every vein to pump on the smooth skin of his neck, making him there red with anger every time the jugular pumped before your eyes.

he grunted like an animal too proud for the zoo. he wanted to destroy you until you couldn't stand up anymore.

humiliation.

you could feel his tip reaching the deepest places. you knew that paul didn't care about protections in these extreme cases (even if it was the first time he was so out of it), thus implying that he would even risk pregnancy to satisfy his dick to the point of nausea.

"you hold on too well-"

you held the sheets for dear life when you felt him pushing away but replacing his sex with one of his agile fingers between your sores.

you gasped as he pecked at all the soft spots of yours. he knew too damn well you were too vulnerable and breakable when it came to his experienced hands.

at the same time you knew how much effort would be required of him to make you suffer precisely, hoping he would get tired.

"so fucking sensitive-"

he inserted another finger, moving at an exorbitant speed. you could feel your wetness even reaching his wrist.

ashamed again.

"p-paul-...i beg-"

he entered you using his thumb to reach your clit.

you moaned as he lapped at your walls, sliding his sizzling tongue into the heat.

he raised his lips sucking greedily, sliding two fingers in once more.

his grunts made everything wetter.

your body came moaning and shaking, your eyes rolling back.

you whimpered as you felt his cock filling you up, preventing you from coming any further.

"p-...paul, you know you're...the only one i love! a vision doesn't mean anything! i-...i- had always loved you, you're the boy of my life, the one who always had all his trust posted about me. so i ask you praying...believe me..."

your boyfriend moved one inch, hitting your weakest and most stimulated point.

you could feel a slight gag rising in your sore and dry throat as the last bit of lucidity left your body in a deep sleep.

(...)

when you wake up a strong pang pierced your forehead, making the room square and moving around you.

paul was curled up on you, not completely resting on you so that his weight didn't give you even more trouble regaining consciousness.

his white and puffy cheek was resting on your bare breasts, a hint of saliva at the sides of his red and swollen mouth.

you couldn't move so you didn't even try, until you felt something holding you back.

paul was lightly sleeping thanks to a bene gesserit relaxation technique, you could now sense that he was completely alert and attentive to your needs.

his delicate hand was hugging your wrist, listening to your heartbeat since you had probably passed out.

he was making sure you were able to breathe normally.

you assumed he had been in that position since the moment you fainted.

you knew that in the end, he loved you more than anything on that planet.

you were his duchess already.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I reread your tanjiro reader post and always wondered what would happen if it’s a Muichiro reader?

How would the Vise and dorm leader react if reader was known as a Young prodigy in Swordsmanship and is very rich?

Since Reader is has amnesia, she would always forget that she’s in another world but was always reminded by her loyal crow

Both the Dorm leaders and Vice Dorm leaders are a bit much

🖤🖤🖤

Muichiro Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re doe-eyed, airheaded, painfully blunt, and a true sword prodigy. Always forgetting and wistfully floating by in life only really reacting to your memory’s deepest secrets. The only thing that keeps you grounded is the loyal crow that gives your missions. While you are as determined as you could be to return to your world the boys of Twisted Wonderland feel the exact opposite. You don’t have much of a will which makes it easier to instill their own: 

Trey Clover

“(Y/n)?!”

“...”

“(Y/n)?!”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you been like that?! All the blood’s going to rush to your head!”

His obsession festers from his worry

Taking that big brother role and watching out for your wandering self

But then he realizes its more when you in a rare moment of clarity speak your truth

Lighting the fire inside him 

And he can’t help but want to protect you

Even when he watches you slice at an entirely insane speeds 

He still feels the need to safeguard you

Even if it means keeping you in the dark about everything

Rook Hunt

“Mon amour brumeux! Please show me the prowess of your sword!”

“...”

“Oui, your beauty is shining even when you dream!”

You’re so lovely for him 

Not reacting to his open photography 

You don’t even protest when he swabs the insides of your cheeks

He’s brought to shivers at the thought of your immense power with a docile personality

In fact he’s never seen someone so skillfully dodge and reflect arrows without being angry

You’re just so perfect for him 

He’s determined to have you 

And he wonders will you fight when he takes you or just let him

Ruggie Bucci

“You’re so gullible! You’ve got to fight me if I take your food! Come on showing me your game face!” 

“You want me…to fight you?”

Shink

“Whoa whoa (Y/n) hold on!” 

He thinks your airy attitude is a breath of fresh air

But he realizes how easy it is to string you along

And he feels no one is better to do that then him 

Well guess he’s getting a lot more practice with ‘laugh with me’

Specifically in accidental injuries

Lilia Vanrouge

“Whoa (Y/n) you’re so skilled! Would you be willing to maybe spar with me?”

“No, I’m looking at the clouds.”

“Awww come on baby! Pleeeeaaasseee?”

He loves pestering you 

Because you don’t really react so it ends up bothering him instead

Ultimately he finds himself obsessed with knowing your inner workings

And when you say something insightful he feels his heart speed up and his cheeks flush with a feeling he hasn’t felt in ages

Won’t you give this dying fae his final wish and stay with him forever

Or maybe he’ll come with you–the greatest mystery he’s ever come across

Jamil Viper

“I sometimes think I could hypnotize you to do what I want…but you’re so flighty I doubt it would even work.”

“...Your hair looks like Kabumaru…”

“What?”

He thinks you’re the cutest 

Even when you expertly wield a sword

He wonders how knowledgeable you can be if he eliminated your chances to go home

If you stayed they’d be the perfect duo 

He’ll be your brains if your his muscle

Heck you can even leave the killing to him

Jade Leech

“Ah, I see you’re busy staring at the Monstro Lounge’s tank.”

“...”

“You seem to like fish.”

“...No, no I don't think I do.”

“Hmmm, how would you like to be one?”

Floyd’s nickname of JellyFish is accurate to him 

Especially when you show off your sword skills 

An almost mindless creature that has a sting

But he thinks you’re allure is like a mushroom

Possibly deadly but wonderfully gorgeous

Perfect for a terrarium tank of your own

[arourasolo]

okay, HEAR ME OUT whiny chan. ik that he’s usually the dominate one but i could imagine his channie side coming out and him being so whiny n stuff while ur jerking and sucking him off

WHINY CHAN MAKES ME SO UGH!!! I started thinking about this when my friend who was just on the other side of the wall to where I has been was working out and let out a weak and exasperated whimper, I was like "THATS WHAT ANON MEANT!!" and grabbed my computer and started writing. I'm thinking that sexually frustrated and overall tired Channie. SORRY IF THIS IS SHITTY OR NOT GRAMMATICALLY ACCURATE I'M DUMB <3 CONTENT WARNING: Smut, jerking off, cum swallowing, sucking off, swears, pet names & nicknames (baby, babe, sweetie, my love), degrading (a little bit), oral (m. receiving), orgasm, handjob, I think that's everything.

GENERAL INFO: established relationship, roommates, reader's features and name are not mentioned or only gently mentioned <3

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely FICTION. It is not a depiction of persons living or dead. I am by no means saying that any of this could/should/would happen to anyone, nor am I saying that these people could/should/would do these things. It's basically a faceclaim for a fictional person when I mention celebs, etc. It's called FAN FICTION because I am the fan writing fiction. Never take anything I write seriously. THANK YOU

This one's kinda short because I'm a failure I rushed it, but at least its content. Enjoy.

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

BANG CHAN SMUT - Hands aren't enough. word count: 689

"Fuck..." Chan groans quietly after he finishes himself on his hands.

You were home with him and able to help him get off, sure, but you were sitting at your computer working so much that he didn't get attention from you. He wanted to get off though,e so he took matters into his own hands.

Literally.

He exits the bathroom after a minute and walks into your shared bedroom, only wearing a pair of shorts and no shirt. His chest glistened with sweat as he walks in and lays on the bed, his hard still visible in his pants.

You turn in your rotating office chair to see Chan laying there, looking like a sweaty, tired, frustrated and extremely attractive mess. You notice the bulge in his pants quickly, shutting your computer and clicking your tongue. You sit beside him on the edge of the mattress with an amused smile.

"What's wrong, Channie? Your hands not as good as mine?" You ask with a sarcastic tone.

He only nods his head and lets out a weak hum in response.

"Mm...yeah..." is all he can make out. You chuckle lightly before you slide off the bed to kneel in front of him. He looks down at you, a small smile forming on his pouty lips.

It's not even a few minutes later that you have him practically crying while you slide your hands painfully slowly up and down his shaft.

"Fuck...baby, don't do this...please..." He whimpers, tears pricking the edges of his beautiful eyes.

You smirk up at him, his perfect and handsome features twisted into a face of pleasure and agony at the same time.

"Not yet...don't cum yet sweetie." You say with a smug smile.

You can feel his cock twitch in your palms, his tip an angry red as he's trying his hardest not to give in and let out messy cries and let himself cum. You press your tongue to his tip, taking about a third of his length into your mouth. He can't handle this much teasing. He lets out a louder cry.

"Ah! Baby please...please can I..." He tries to speak between moans and whines. His forehead glistens with sweat, his eyes screwed shut while his puffy lips hang slightly open.

"What a needy boy...crying because his hands weren't as good as mine. You couldn't even make yourself cum, could you?" You ask condescendingly while you take your mouth off his cock, quickly moving your hands up and down it again, then slowing down in an excruciating pattern.

He nods frantically, his hands gripping anything and everything around him. He grabs the bedsheets with a cry.

"N-no...no!" He whimpers again. "No I couldn't...I can't do it like you. Please just let me finish, stop this shit. I need you. Please, my love, please."

His begs are weak and desperate sounding as his breaths are heavy. His whines such music to your ears. You can't keep him in this torturous position for much longer.

You chuckle softly, now keeping your pace on his rock hard dick. "You can't do anything, can you? Pathetic. Just cum then, cum for me and show me how much you love this."

You take him fully in your mouth, his cock twitching in your tight throat as he reaches down and grabs your hair. He bobs you up and down, jerking his hips here and there. In no time at all, you feel the familiar feeling of his warm cum run down your tongue while you hear his desperate moans of pure pleasure. You swallow as much as you can, sliding your lips down him and puckering your lips against his tip, resulting in a pop! as you smirk up at him.

His chest rises and falls in uneven and harsh breaths, his hands still gripping onto the sheets and duvet as if his life depended on it. His eyes open slightly, looking up at you with a soft sigh while you lean over the bed in front of him.

"Oh Channie. If you needed me you could've just told me. What do you need now? Need my pussy?"

[fuxuannie]

Whaaa i love ur writing style!! Could I ask for Sampo, Gepard and Dan Heng with a very shy reader? 🥺🙏

I just love those three!!

* pairing(s) : various hsr x gender neutral reader ( plus a joke-ish caelus prompt since ppl seem to like him !!!)

* prompt : request ♡

* authors note : thank you all so much for the overwhelming amount of support recently omg ♡ you're all so sweet, and it means the world. feel free to send requests, msgs and the sort my way!

DAN HENG understood your shyness, and was always there for you in situations where it really shone through. Especially in social settings, where you'd just cling onto his arm behind him. All of it, he was used to it, and never pushed you to do things outside your comfort zone.

When you two were just friends, he really appreciated the moments of comforting silence you two would always share. He would be reading on his bed and you'd be doing your own thing on his table. Sometimes you'd catch him just taking those times alone together to stare at you. (Which he'd miserably fail to deny every time he was caught. With his hand covering his mouth, brows furrowed and clear blush on his face.)

And when the confession happened, you were surprisingly the one to tell him. You wanted to prove that Dan Heng was really the only man for your heart, the only one who got to see that smile you'd hide away from people, and the side of you that people rarely know exist.. the one you show to him. A side of you where you're free to laugh without the need to swiftly cover your mouth afterwards, the side of you that's able to talk for hours on end about the little things you're excited about.. Everything he sees of you, its for him alone. And he's happy to know that.

SAMPO was like your voice in situations where you feel shy, it's almost scary how accurate he can read your feelings and convey them to other people.

"Oh don't worry! They're truly greatful, just a little shy." And you'd nod to confirm whatever he was saying.

But Sampo likes to play a little fun, enjoying how quick it was to fluster you. But if ever you asked him to stop, he would in that very moment. He likes to tease, but also knows how to stop.

Before you two dated, things really weren't all too different. Considering how close you two were, with him being your childhood best friend and knowing all about how shy you were.. he really didn't mind. You preferred to be a listener instead of a talker, and boy did he love to talk.

And now that you are now together, it seems not much had changed. He loved to talk, but now you loved to talk with him. You learnt how to open a little and crack out your shell, after the gentle encouragement and patience that Sampo had to help you open up. You owed it all to him.

GEPARD and you were both equally shy, which made such a silly and adorable pair. The mere idea of you two holding hands together had him clearing his throat and you looking down in embarassment.

You were his second in command, many viewed you as a cold leader who rarely ever spoke unless it was needed.. when in reality, you were just really shy. But you're second in command for a reason, your leadership skills and how you'd treat everyone with kindness was something Gepard really admired about you.

But while you two were mutually pining for each other, you two were so painfully awkward that Serval was this close to announcing in her next concert that you two loved each other. She had to listen to Gepard talk for hours on end for the fact you held EYE CONTACT with him.

But those really were signs, Serval thought he was going delusional, but you were genuinely trying to hint you liked him like that. The way your eyes would stare a bit too long into his, how you spoke to him even when you didn't need to and lastly just.. the way you looked at him. You could look him straight in the eyes, when usually you'd turn away at the very second the contact was made.

And now that you two are together, it's like Gepard still hasn't accepted it. Because he acts like you're STILL just a crush. He's just so madly inlove with you that he still gets all flustered and nervous.

You were shy, and your boyfriend was a ticking time bomb that attacked anything at any given moment. Most of the time, people would never really mind you, mostly because of how much of an oddball he was.

"Caelus, please stop scaring the hotel staff.. I really don't wanna speak to them and apologize on your behalf."

You watch Caelus sadly leave the closet, but if you asked him to do anything, he will do it in a heartbeat. "Me and my partner don't argue, they tell me to do something and I listen like a dog" Him, probably, but he knows he just doesn't wanna put you in situations where you're uncomfortable.

However his random obsession with trashcans has been getting concerning and you've started to wonder how the stars in the galaxy guided you to fall for him.

[s-4pphics]

let the rain sing. 4 (a.a)

wc;cw: 7k, dadsbestfriend!abby, lawstudent!oc, large age gap(oc is 25, abby is mid 40s), abby is bi<3, slight angst yall know the deal, brief mentions of familial death, cigarettes, nasty sloppy sex MDNI, dubcon(they sipped a little), couch action :p, eating out no taco bell(pussy and ass), tribbing, meantop!abby, strength kink, lots of dirty talk, breeding kink😳😳, mult. orgasms, BREEDING STRAP(idk how they work im sowwie if it’s not accurate :/), slight d!p, body fluids(spit, fake and real cum LOL), UNPREPPED ANAL PLS DONT DO THIS, dumbification, degradation kink, pain kink it’s me duh, hair pulling, slapping, slight mirror sex??

The holiday season passed, and you were standing on Abby’s porch with your tail between your legs and exhaustion weighing you down. 

You’ve never been… nervous to see Abby. Whenever you arrived at her home, you were eager and desperate to be in her presence so she could take care of you, but now you were nauseas at the thought of using her that way. And it was all your fault. 

You haven’t spoken to her since the Christmas party. You didn’t know what to say. How do you approach somebody that you think hates you after an encounter like that? She went from rightfully kicking you out of her home to rubbing your pussy through your pants without care. In front of your entire family despite your mutual rules, and you didn’t even care enough to stop her. It almost felt like you switched places for the night: she was impulsive and irresponsible, and you allowed her to be, just like how she used to when she handled your demanding attitude. You wished she touched you more before she respectfully departed your parents’ home. 

You wanted to speak with Abby properly. You never thought you would be willing to sacrifice your kryptonite once you found it, but she didn’t deserve to be dragged along and solve your problems anymore. Your heart still hurts at the thought of making her cry and leaving her to it. You’re such an idiot. 

You called her before you showed up, but she didn’t answer. You don’t blame her for being distant, but she deserves an in-person explanation as to why you should never see her again. You’re a trainwreck and you need to deal with that alone, no matter how exhausting the journey would be. 

The sun was setting when you finally exited your car knocked on her door, looking down at your scuffed boots that dug into the melting ice on her porch. You wanted to check to see if her key was still in the same spot under her rug, but you refrained. Your heart filled when you noticed her unique little Christmas decorations still dangling from her door and windows. She loved her flowers, for sure.

When the door yanked open, your heart dropped, and your stomach did somersaults. 

Abby was dolled up in a red dress under a black trench coat with matching red nails and shoes, sparkling jewelry, and her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail that cascaded down the back of her neck. She looked fucking gorgeous, and your throat went dry. She leaned against the frame as she eyed you, shock evident on her face. 

Don’t fold, don’t fold, don’t fold!

You watched her surprise swiftly shift into confusion and… aggravation? Your heart sunk further into the floor, but you held her gaze. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

Her voice made your heart squeeze painfully; You missed it terribly, regardless of how stiff she sounded. 

You took a shuddering breath, “… Hi, Abby.” 

She ignored your greeting, “What are you doing here?” She sounded like she was in a rush, and you wanted to cry. 

You swallowed harshly, “I-I know you’re probably busy, but I’m— “

“Look, I can’t deal with this right now. I have somewhere to be,” she quietly huffed with agitation like someone would hear, adjusting the shining watch on her wrist to check the time. You could feel her pulling away. 

It felt like every cell in your body was dying, your brain fighting on its last legs to conjure up a reply to get her to stay and speak with you. You would’ve dropped down to your knees if it wasn’t freezing. Is this how she felt whenever you would shut her down to fuck? Nausea came in waves. 

“I don’t,” you weren’t shaking from the cold. “I don’t wanna do anything. I just wanna… apologize.” 

She rolled her eyes at you, “Keep it. Are you done? I gotta leave soon.”

You were motionless, your hands squeezed into fists in your coat pockets as tears jerked in your eyes and lips quivered. Don’t fucking cry!

Your brain didn’t fight hard enough because she shook her head when you didn’t comment, reaching for the door to slam it in your face. It forced you into action, shoving your arm between the open space to stop the wood from shutting completely. You couldn’t control the panic you felt at the thought of her hating you. You don’t remember the last time you cried like this. 

“A-Abby, please, I’m so sorry, I can’t,” your heaving picked up as you sobbed to her. “I can’t stop thinking a—bout you and I feel awful and I know you hate me, and you s-should but’m so sorr—y. Please, I can’t— “

Abby seemed unsure through your watery gaze, the tensity in her face dropping slowly as she gauged you. You felt her wrap a light hand around your bicep as you broke down, ushering you inside with soft shushes. 

You listened and followed her guide to the couch, taking a seat as you cried out your apologies to her. Your wails overpowered the volume of her coos; She was too fucking nice. 

She stood over your sitting form, her soft, rose-scented hands holding your chin as she massaged the back of your pounding head. “Shhh, stop crying, stop.”

Your eyes met hers, and your heart burned, “M’sorry— “

She sighed, “We’re gonna… we’re gonna talk, okay?” 

You nodded, sniffing harshly. You didn’t deserve her hospitality, and you felt guilty accepting her courtesy. Had you really been so heartless to such a gentle soul?

She hummed, “Want some water?” 

You didn’t answer. 

She took your silence as approval and made her way to the kitchen. 

You calmed down. Slightly. Abby was able to remove your coat and boots without fuss; You were too busy blowing your nose with the soft tissues she handed to you. 

Abby sat next to you on the couch, earrings, coat, and heels removed and slung on the floor near the coffee table. She allowed you to take some sips of your water before she spoke, voice as soft as ever. 

“Okay to talk?” 

You nodded, setting your glass down on the decorative table and using your sleeves to wipe your still wet face. 

You took a deep breath. A few deep breaths, and she let you. 

But when you finally opened your mouth to speak, her phone rang. 

Both your eyes darted towards the coffee table; a contact named DON’T ANSWER read across the screen. Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes gliding between her and her device. You’ve never seen Abby have a negative reaction towards anyone except you; Who did she not want to answer? 

She sighed heavily, reaching towards her phone to mute the ringing. A few moments of silence passed, and the call ended, but the caller popped up again. 

She tsked, reaching for her device with agitation. She answered it, annoyance evident in her tone. 

“I'm not coming. Stop calling me.” 

Your ears perked with intrigue. Was she meant to meet with someone tonight? She sounded so upset. 

Some distant ramblings came through her earpiece before she shot back at the person she was speaking to, “I don’t care. It’s not up to you!” 

The person got louder with her, the voice masculine. You saw Abby roll her eyes as she listened to the shouts. Why was she getting screamed at?

She spat nastily at the man before hanging up. “Fuck you. Don’t call me anymore tonight.”

She turned her phone off and tossed it onto the longue chair near the TV before turning back to you, the flame in her eyes slowly extinguishing. 

“Sorry,” she breathed awkwardly, massaging her temples. 

You shook your head, “Don’t apologize, I’m in your home. You can do what you want.” 

She hummed at you, her expression suddenly distant. She wasn’t looking at you, but at the hand that rested on your knee. Why was that making your body hot?

“I really came at a bad time, huh?” You huffed.

“Mhm,” she answered before backtracking. “I hate talking to him.” 

You spoke before you could think, “Who was it?”

“My ex.”

Your heart frosted over. 

“H-Husband?”

She nodded slowly, like it brought her shame to admit. You don’t know why that made your stomach churn with something red. Something fiery that you never felt. How long were they still in contact? You knew they weren’t on good terms due to Abby’s past dismissal of your questions about their past, but now you were really confused about where they stood. 

“D’you still talk to him?” 

“You interrogating me?” You stiffened at her tone, darkly sarcastic. Fuck, stop fucking up! 

You shook your head incessantly, “Not at all! Just… yeah, I don’t know why I asked that.” 

“What an honest lawyer,” you saw her lips curl upward into a smirk, and you exhaled a sheepish laugh, your hands squeezing into fists on your lap. She’s fucking gorgeous. 

“Not a lawyer yet.” 

She bit playfully, “Gonna be soon.” 

You made a noise in agreement before silence passed between you.

Abby’s voice made you look up. “We don’t see each other often, my ex and I. Not anymore at least.”

“… Oh. What were you guys going to do tonight?”

Abby shrugged, “Get drunk. Fuck probably.” 

You probably looked calm on the outside, but you felt every organ in your body burn like fire at her admission. You were stiff, your nails digging into your palms as grounding. Why are you getting so fucking pissed over them communicating? The fuck?

You couldn’t help yourself, “How come?” 

“It’s winter. We’re lonely and miss our daughter.” 

You felt like you were dunked into a bottomless tub of ice water. Your brain went into overdrive and your throat closed like you were going to cry again. 

She shook her head like nothing mattered, “Not the best coping mechanism, but.” 

“A-Abby— “

She cut you off, tone hushed, “We shouldn’t meet anymore, but he just… gets it. Gets me and what I’m still going through. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully get rid of him no matter how much I hate his guts.” 

You sat there and listened. This is the most personal conversation you’ve had with Abby since the first time you met. You finally met her eyes, waves of emotion flowing through them like ocean waves; You were here, and you wanted to listen to her. I’m sorry for shutting you down in the past. Please talk to me. 

You placed an encouraging hand on her bare shoulder, and she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as you squeezed. She was so tired; You recognized exhausted stiffness from anywhere. 

“He’s the only… person I have, honestly. It’s really weird,” she huffed a laugh, rubbing her nose. “We had her alone, we raised her alone, I buried her without him, and now we just… drag each other along in our grief. She died such a long time ago and we’ve made no progress, but I can’t… I can’t leave him.” 

You could hear the pain in her voice as she spoke, and it tore you to pieces. You can’t imagine what the two of them went through after such a grave loss; You knew it was your parents’ biggest fear. You had no idea how to talk her through this wave she was experiencing, but both your hands flew down to grab hers in her lap. You rubbed and squeezed them tight, hoping she would accept your presence again. You have me! I’m here, too. I'm sorry I wasn't before, but I am now. 

She looked down at your locked fingers, shocked at the gesture. She released a shuddered breath and squeezed back, grabbing your hand like you would slip away. 

She continued, her eyes glossy, “We always meet up around this time of year. For anything. For sex, to cry together. We could spend hours yelling and screaming at each other and then walk out of each other’s lives like nothing happened, just to do it all over again. I’m so… fucking tired.”

You shook your head in understanding. She needed comfort, some solace, a distraction just as much as you did, even if it’s only for a second. You wish you knew a better way to appease her emotional needs, but you didn’t. You didn’t know what to say, so you did what you should’ve done a long time ago. 

She confided in you, and you listened to all of it. 

Abby pulled out an expensive bottle of wine some time ago. You couldn’t stop smiling. 

Abby’s laugh was music to your ears, “I can’t believe I fucking did that!”

You shook your head as you beamed at her, “You don’t know how shook I was! I thought I was hallucinating! I don’t know what my cousin put in that fucking blunt, but I was on my ass the rest of the night.” 

You and Abby were facing each other, knees touching on the couch, in hysterics about the… events at the Christmas party. She tossed her expensive watch somewhere earlier, her posture content as she leaned back against the arm of her couch. You thought your first conversation after your argument would be much more unnerving, but you were both at ease and light. And a little tipsy. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been at her house, but you didn’t want to leave. You’re so glad you came to see her. 

Her hands flew to cover her face, her face burning red, “I’m sorry. Aghh, I fuckin’ cringe. Jesus.”

You shrugged, “Great memories.” 

She hummed in agreement, her head tilting as her eyes wandered all over your face. Your face warmed, “You look pretty with your hair up.” 

She raised a brow at you, “Oh?”

“Um… yes,” you replied sheepishly. 

“I think that’s the first compliment you’ve given me,” she joked, but that made your heart hurt. 

“You’re really pretty, Abby,” you replied instantly, tone quiet as your heartbeat picked up. Her expression softened when she called out your name. 

You shook your head, eyes dropping to your hands in your lap, “I'm really sorry for yelling at you.” 

Her hand came up to lift your chin, “Hey. I’m not upset anymore. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 

You nodded, eyes flickering between her mouth and eyes. She whispered your name again, thumb caressing your face. 

“Yes?” 

She whispered, inching forward slightly, “… How much trouble would I get in for kissing you right now?” 

Your tummy instantly swirled, and you grinned, “I dunno. A pretty good amount, I think.” 

She moved closer, tongue rolling over her lips as she eyed your mouth. 

Your breath shuddered, hand coming up to grab her wrist. You whispered as your face burned, “Kiss me?”

She snorted. Her nose brushed against yours, a smirk plastered on her face as she sniffed, “Yeah?”

Your core squeezed in approval. Abby released the hold she had on your face, strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You followed, straddling her lap, arms looping around her neck. You could see the skirt of her dress riding up from beneath you when she stretched her legs out. She smelled like roses and Barolo. 

“Hi,” she whispered with a grin. 

You smiled back at her, “Hi.”

Her lips brushed against yours, “Kiss me.” 

You cheesed, mischievously pecking her cheek, and she stared at you blankly. You giggled and pinched her squishy cheeks. 

“Kiss me for real,” she scolded lightly. 

You snorted, poking the space where her dimples are, “Mmm, nah. changed my mind, actually.” 

“Oh yeah? Don’t wanna kiss me?” Her voice lowered. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you shook your head at her anyway. Your defenses weakened when her grip tightened on your hips and head dropped, planting soft kisses down the expanse of your neck. You could feel her nails tickling the sensitive skin on your back as she softly caressed you. Your eyes went glossy. 

She mumbled against your neck, “Missed you.”

Your heart fluttered. You breathed, “Really?” 

“Mhm, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Doesn’t matter how much you get on my fucking nerves,” her hands slowly crawled up your waist. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

How does she speak her mind so easily?! “Miss—missed you too.”

“Missed me touching you like this?” 

You nodded quickly, and her tongue swiped up the side of your neck. You breathed heavily in her ear, eager to touch her. You pulled back so you could see her face, friskiness dissipating when you connected your lips. She purred in your mouth, lips molding against yours as you grinded on top of her, her red lipstick transferring onto your mouth. 

You grabbed her soft cheeks in your hands, gasping when her hands slid down to grab your ass through your jeans. Her tongue licked into your mouth, and your toes curled in your socks. You missed kissing her so badly. 

She was kissing you stupid, tugging the hair at the back of your head as she sucked your bottom lip. You shakily brought your hands up to her ponytail to undo the elastic, and her locks fell down her back like liquid. Your arms wrapped around her neck to kiss her deeper, pulling tightly at her soft strands. 

She moaned into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, “Need some head?”

You nails dug into her shoulders, “Y-You don’t have t— “

She rolled her eyes, “It’s not for you, it’s for me. I was just tryna be polite.” 

Well.

“But I wan—“ 

Her hand came up to grab your chin. Fuck, you love when she does that. “Don’t care what you want actually. Lay down.”

You scurried off her like she was on fire, lying flat on the couch and ripping your sweater over your head, tossing it into the pile on the floor. Abby stood as you unbuttoned her jeans. You secretly watched as she unzipped her dress and allowed it to fall down her body. She was completely bare underneath. Your eyes followed the thin trail of hair that led down to her wet cunt, and it made you hot… in more ways than one; She was on a mission tonight, for sure. 

You shoved your jealousy down; She didn’t owe you anything, especially loyalty. You stared down at your busy hands.

You kicked your jeans off, a sock clumsily catching in your pant leg before they hit the floor. You were not prepared for spontaneous sex at all; One lonesome weed sock, panties with chocolate bars on them, and a gray lounge bra. 

You awkwardly scratched your ear and waited for Abby to move, but she didn’t. You looked up at her and noticed her just… staring at your torso. Her expression was unreadable as she took your body in, but you were about to die from her searing ogle. Your face was torched, even more so when she brought a gentle hand up, hooked her middle and index finger into the band of your bra. 

Her eyes bore into yours, silently asking for permission, and you nodded. She bit her lip, slowly raising the elastic band up your chest until your breasts dropped out. She played with the two of them, dark red nails digging into the soft skin, pinching at your nipples. You couldn’t stop squirming, watching her hand move on your body. You lifted your bra over your head and laid the bundled fabric over the back of the couch. 

“Turn over, baby. Wanna see something,” she barely whispered, patting your thigh encouragingly. 

You listened, flipping onto your hands and knees as she climbed on the couch behind you. You sighed happily when she massaged your ass in both hands, rubbing and pulling at your covered cheeks. You peered over your shoulder to watch her pull your sticky panties to the side. She was eyeing your pussy like she wanted to swallow you whole before her eyes flickered an inch up. She was staring at… 

Oh. Oh. 

You jokingly snarked at her, “Find whatchu lookin’ for?” 

Her eyes pierced through yours before she slapped the fuck out of your ass. Your body jerked forward at the force, eyes squeezing shut and groaning at the seering sting. Your head dropped on the arm of the couch.

She sneered at you, “I still feel some typa way. Be nice.” 

You gasped out, “M’so— “

“You’re sorry,” She squealed out mockingly. “I know. Be still.” 

She yanked your panties down your thighs, “Put your head down.” 

You dropped your head onto your crossed arms in front of you. Her hand rubbed down your spine to deepen your arch, pulling your hips farther up. 

“Hold it open for me, baby.” 

You whimpered and reached down between your legs, spreading the drippy folds of your cunt to expose your clit. You heard her curse behind you before you felt slow massages on your clit. They were so delicate, almost ticklish, and it made you shiver. 

Your walls squeezed down and you heard her moan behind you. She rubbed a bit faster, the soft, squishy noises from your cunt filling the room. You tried to push back on her fingers, but she harshly dug her nails into your hip to hold you still, pulling her fingers away from you. 

“Abby, please— “

She ignored you, prying your lips apart with her thumbs. Her breath hit your cunt as she slurred, “You trust me?” 

You nodded incessantly, “Yeah, baby, trust you, fuck, I trust you— “

Her lips sucked around your clit, and you bucked back on her face with force. She wasted no time, shoving two of her fingers inside you and curling them. She poked and prodded at your walls as she flicked your throbbing bud and holy fuck, you missed her so fucking bad—

You couldn’t help the noises that left your mouth when she hit your spot dead on, your walls milking her fingers with eagerness. You cried out her name as your orgasm pulled from deep within your gut, your fingers curling into fists into her couch cushions. The sounds your cunt made were becoming louder as your moans crescendo, your hips moving on their own accord to get her deeper inside you. 

Her tongue slowed on your clit, slowly licking up towards your entrance and… passed your entrance. She moved up, up, and her wet muscle swiped over your ass—

A sharp gasp shot through you, your head whipping around to face her. On any other occasion, she would’ve halted everything and checked in on you, but her fingers didn’t stop. Her thrusts were harsh and unrelenting, her eyes cutting through you, “Fuckin’ trust me, right?”

You sobbed when she slapped your still burning cheek, nodding your consent with tears streaming down your face. She didn’t hesitate to lick over your hole, her tongue sliding back and forth over the puckered entrance. 

“Abby, fuckfuckfuck, oh fuck— “

She hummed against your hole and your head dropped on the cushions completely, using your bent elbows as leverage to fuck back onto her face. 

She mumbled nastily against you, “Just needa be slutted out, baby? Yeah?” 

You could only whine and sob in reply before the strong squeezes of your orgasm built and built. You were right fucking there you just needed her to—

Her tongue shoved inside you, and your body seized and tensed under the pressure of your orgasm. It wracked through your body in waves as you wailed into the pillows beneath you, both sets of walls contracting through your pleasure. Your cunt milked her fingers with urgency, your juices dripping out of your entrance and down Abby’s wrist. She tongued you through the aftershocks. 

She slowly brought you back down as your pulses slowed, planting a kiss on the back of your thigh before pulling out. Exhaustion took over your body as she helped you get onto your back, your head propped up on the pillows behind you. You kicked your dangling panties off and allowed her to lift your leg over her shoulder. She climbed on top of you, straddling your resting thigh. You looked up at her and… the large vein in her biceps made you shiver. 

“A-Abby?” 

She grabbed your tit, “Hm.”

You whimpered, “Are you a gym rat?”

She snorted, a grin spreading across her pretty face as she massaged the soft skin. “Errr… yes? When I wanna be. Why do you ask?”

Throw me across the room! You eyed her bulging vein, “Nothin’.” 

She smirked down at you, “Mhm.” 

… Did she just flex her bicep what the fuck—

You didn’t even have a chance to think before her pussy rubbed up against yours, and nearly cried when you saw your sopping cunts connect, sighs of satisfaction leaving your mouths when your clits bumped up against each other, bonded by strings of slick. You grabbed her thigh for support, digging your nails into her soft skin as her grinds increased in pace. 

Your throbbing bud jerked with each pass of her hips. You did everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch her: her head was tossed back with her lip between her teeth, her defined stomach tensing and she fucked you. She looked so desperate to cum, to feel so good that she forgets everything. She kept taking and taking like you never allowed her to, and you never wanted it to end. 

“Your pussy feels s’good, shit,” she grinded down on you harder as she gazed at the ceiling. “Gonna make me cum— “

“Cum on me, Abby? Please cum on my pussy?” You whimpered up at her as your eyes grew heavy, and she slumped over the pillows, strong arms holding her up as she used you to fuck herself. She was getting louder, and you were squeezing as your second orgasm approached. Her pussy was hitting you right where you needed, right on your clit and you were about to—

You saw a screen flash out the corner of your eye as your device blared, and the drop of your heart matched the tight grip of your pussy. 

Abby was close, and your dad was calling.

Abby was too deep in her pleasure to notice as she begged you to cum with her, grabbing at your tits and yanking your nipples. Your pleasure kept rising and your phone wouldn’t stop fucking ringing—

“Fuck, baby, oh god, m’cumming!—“

Abby’s scream sent you off, your eyes rolling back, and your core squeezing with all you had to give. She was fucking you so hard through your euphoria, crying your name as you did the same. She was hitting your clit so good, you couldn’t breathe. 

Your ears were ringing so loud that you couldn’t hear the second call coming in, and you didn’t care. Your hips bucked as much as they could to meet hers, helping her ride out her intense orgasm. The harder you pushed up, the more you could feel her pussy pulsating. It sent another wave of pleasure through you. 

The feeling eventually subsided, the contractions in your cunt easing into light jerks. Abby caught her breath before moving off and plopping on top of you as she breathed heavily in your ear. You brought a hand up to rub her scalp, twirling her hair around your index finger as her scent infiltrated your senses. Your phone was finally quiet. 

“Can I fuck your ass?” 

Her heavy exhale made your spine bend. You could feel her smile against your neck. 

You were about to pass out, and it wasn’t from your insomnia. 

Abby carried you upstairs to her bed, and eventually got your legs over her shoulders while she lubricated her deep blue strap… with a slit at the incredibly fat tip? She never used this one with you before. It was veiny, curved, and thick; How the hell was that going to fit in your ass!

You knew one of her darkest secrets was cumming inside of somebody, but you didn’t know she meant it. You couldn’t stop thinking about all the times she moaned about cumming inside you. Knocking you up. She was really going to—

“Stop staring at my dick, it’s rude,” she said blankly. 

Your eyes flickered up to meet hers, “Sorry.” 

She snickered, “I’m kidding, relax.” 

How could you relax when she was jerking off in front of you! Her hands are so pretty on her dick, and you could cry right now because of it!

You squealed when she slapped it on your clit, the silicone getting drenched in her flavored lube and your slick. Your pussy squeezed in anticipation; She was about to destroy your cunt and you couldn’t think, holy shit, you missed her so badly—

She breathed eagerly, “You know what to do, baby.” 

You nodded, reaching down to hold your pussy open for her. She lined her tip up at your entrance, “Need this dick?”

“Fuck yes— “

She cooed, “Yeah? Want me?”

You looked up at her, your head bobbing up and down like you were entranced. You wanted her so much. Too much. The look of pride in her eyes was going to stay in your memory forever. 

“Fucking say it,” she spat.

“Want you inside me, baby, please fuck me!”

She popped the tip in, and you moaned as pleasurable pain rushed through you. She took her time easing into you, allowing you to feel every ridge of her dick against your walls. The veins in the silicone were catching on your walls and it made you squeeze down tight. 

She paused and kissed your ankle, “Ease up, baby. C’mon.�� 

“Can’help it, fuck, splittin’ me open,” your tongue felt so large in your mouth. 

“Fuck, missed wrecking this pussy,” she moaned out, staring down at the way your walls choked her length. 

She pushed an inch deeper, and you nearly shouted. 

She smirked, “Right there?”

You were drooling onto your chest as you craned up to watch how you connected. She was pressed right up against the spot that made you see stars, and you felt the beginnings of your orgasm stirring in your gut. 

She pushed inside until she was fully submerged in your juices, your slick coating the entire toy when she pulled out, only to fuck back into you again. She stretched you out until you were grabbing at her hip, trying to pull her deeper into you. She wrapped her arms around both of your calves and drilled in your guts, only pulling out a few inches before shoving back in. 

The power of her thrusts was causing the flowery headboard to bang up against the wall, the soggy noises of your cunt and squeals of pleasure filling the room. She was battering your pussy completely, and you couldn’t do anything to stop her. 

“Pussy’s pushing me out,” she garbled with a limp tongue. “Feel good, baby? Can’t take it?” 

You couldn’t find the strength to respond, nails digging into her soft blankets as she transported you to another dimension, sparkles and glitter exploding behind your eyelids as your unannounced orgasm shook your spirit, “Can feel you cummin’, shit.” 

Her voice was muffled from the ringing in your ears. You could barely register her pulling out and grabbing her girth, quickly rubbing her wet tip on your clit to rub you through your orgasm. You felt speckles of droplets land on your ass and the covers beneath you, eyes crossed in your skull and the taste of copper in your mouth from biting your lip too hard. 

She didn’t let you recover before she released your legs, pinning them down to your chest by the back of your knees, nearly folding you in half and shoving back into your wetness with a disgusting noise.

She bounced you on her cock like a weightless ragdoll, your body shifting up her bed with force. She hit so deep whenever she fucked like this. Her tip was nudging your cervix whenever she dug in deep, the pain plunging into you like a knife as tears filled your eyes and pleasure sizzled all the way down to your toes.

“Gonna cum in this fuckin’ pussy, oh my god— “

You couldn’t help the babbles that came from you, drooly yesyesyesyess’ coming from you, “Yeah, baby? Need me to fill your pussy up?”

You nearly passed out at the thought of her stuffing you, your orgasm built until it crashed into you, snatching the wind in your body as you let out a quiet scream. Your lashes were fluttering, and spit was sliding down your cheek, completely dumb under her. 

And then you felt a thin stream of liquid shoot inside your pulsing cunt. You swore you flatlined. 

Your orgasm only intensified at the feeling of her creaming inside you, her gross whispers making the hairs on your arms stand, “Gonna knock this slutty cunt up and send you home filthy. Want you drippin’ with it.” 

You nodded brainlessly; You’d do whatever she wanted as long as she kept fucking and filling you. Another harsh stream exploded inside you, and your juices sprayed on her lap. You went limp under her, letting her move and toss you around how she pleased. You were getting so fucking tired, but you didn’t want her to stop. 

She gave one last deep grind, poking your cervix one last time before pulling out, her gaze dropping to watch her seed spill out of your battered cunt. She pushed your legs down even further, knees nearly hitting your head as she lined her dick up at your ass, “Would marry this pussy, swear to god. It takes dick so good.” 

You only released a choked noise in approval; She could have you however she wanted! 

Her pretty brow arched cockily, “You like that? Like when I make this pussy mine?”

You shook your head so fast. It’s yours, baby! It’s all yours!

She barely pushed forward, her tip nudging your other entrance, making you squeal, “Is this mine too?” 

“Fuck yes, s’yours, baby!”

She popped in, and you sobbed. You need this, you need this, you need her—

Tears ran down to your neck as you cried, her gentle shushes caressing your ear drums like symphonies, “Such a good girl, doing so good for me, just a little more, okay?” 

You couldn’t stop moaning at the foreign sensation, “G-Gimme all of it, oh my fuckin’ god—“

“… You sure?”

She paused, only a couple inches inside as she gauged you. The gentle aura you're so used to finally returned as she massaged your thighs comfortingly, and your heart swelled. 

You spoke in one breath, “Fuck my ass, Abby, please. S’gonna make me cum again— “

“Tell me if I’m— “

“Please, baby, s’gonna hurt s-so good, gimme— “

“Okay, baby shhh, I gotchu,” she hushed you, quickly grabbing the discarded bottle of lube at your side and squeezing a messy quantity over your pulsating entrance. She tossed it somewhere and pushed in deeper, the burn sending hot shockwaves to your brain. How were you about to cum there’s no way you’re going to cum—

“A-Abby, fuck me, fuckme— “

She was whimpering with you, still pressing in, “Don’t wanna hurt you baby, shit— “

“Fuck me harder, m’so close!”

Your eyes squeezed shut when she pushed the last few inches in, sitting deep in your ass, and you came so hard. You could hear her moaning with you as she grinded you out. The cum that sat deep in your cunt was pulsing out of you with each clench, dripping down to your filled ass and coating her. You forced your eyes open so you could watch her, eyes burning with lust and her toned body drenched in sweat. 

She brought a hand down to your pussy and shoved two fingers in, curling and hitting your spot at a vigorous pace. The squelches were so loud over your pleased shouts, and you squirted all over her hand, some droplets splattering on your chest and chin. 

She yanked her fingers out to pat and spank your throbbing clit before pushing your legs back up, pulling out slowly before shoving her entire length back into you. 

Abby has never been this aggressive during sex, but she was slapping you, fucking you deep and hard, spitting on your face from where she towered over you, and you took all of it like she was paying you. Your ass was rippling on her cock, trying to make space for her cock so it could suck her in deeper. You couldn’t stop squirting, both your cum dripping out of both your holes. 

Gonna cum so hard in this ass, oh my fuckin’ god, you feel so good.

It’s mine? Say it’s mine.

Look at that dirty fucking pussy. Nasty cumslut. You love being my fucking worthless whore, don’t you? 

Just needa turn that pretty brain off? Yeah? Need me to take care of you? Fuck you stupid? 

You were thrown into one long, constant orgasm and she talked you through it. You clawed at her ass and sheets and your own tits to keep yourself grounded but it wasn’t working. You were getting her so wet, a large puddle forming underneath you as your body jerked away from her. But she held you down, made you take what she gave, made you see god. You felt so fucking good that it almost pained you. 

You could hear her moans increase in volume, not bothering to pull out as she grinded deep inside you. You knew she was close, riding her harness into completion. You used the only strength you had to turn your head to the side, making eye contact with yourself in her large dresser mirror. You looked fucked up, but you watched yourself cum before staring at Abby’s reflection. 

Her eyes were squeezed shut as she bucked into you quickly, her tits and fat on her ass shaking in the mirror. You could hear her whispering makemecummakemecum over and over again, and you shuddered when another spurt of liquid left you. 

Cum in my ass, cum in me filled your brain like a mantra.

You fought to keep your eyes open, watching the muscles in her body tighten up before she yelled out, screaming how hard she was cumming and how good your ass sucked her cum in. A line of spit left her mouth and landed on your thigh as she shuddered through her pleasure, and you felt her jizz fill your ass, the second load much larger than the first. It felt so fucking good. 

Another orgasm rushed through as you both screamed in pleasure. You tried to meet her grinds, pushing down to get her squirting dick even deeper inside. 

Abby dropped your legs and they instantly wrapped around her waist as she fell forward, resting her full weight on you as she rode out her orgasm. Her moans of your name didn’t stop, and it felt like you both were cumming for hours. She filled and filled you like you were milking her dry, draining her completely and it made you cum again. Your arms wrapped around her neck to pull her close, nails digging into the flexing muscles in her back and leaving red trails.

She screamed out a warning of another orgasm right before her body trembled on top of you. Her dick wasn't bursting in you anymore; Why did that make you sad?

Her grinds eventually slowed into twitches as you both came down. She was planting gentle kisses and sucks on your neck, her hands coming down to rub the soreness from your thighs as you massaged her scalp. 

You made sure to keep your eyes open so you wouldn’t drift off into dreamland. 

After Abby pulled out and cleaned you up, she rummaged through her underwear drawer and pulled out a Marlboro box and lighter. 

… Why were you horny again? 

Her wet, semi-leaking dick was still strapped around her waist, her now scarred backside facing you as she stuck the orange end between her lips and ignited it. You watched her through the mirror, her body instantly relaxing as she puffed silently. You looked like a cat in heat. 

She looked up and stared back at you in the reflection, taking the smoke between her index and middle finger, exhaling around her words. 

“What’re you looking at?”

You shrugged and smiled like a ditz. She shook her head at you before sticking the butt in her mouth, undoing the adjusts and stepping out of her dick. She picked it up, eyes flickering awkwardly before throwing it in her hamper. You giggled quietly.

She ashed her cig over her small trash can, before looking at you, “Come shower?”

Your heart pounded in your chest like she didn’t just obliterate your pussy and ass. You consented in silence. 

You could hear her laughing as you hobbled to the bathroom, “I coulda carried you, y’know.” 

You flipped her off. 

After washing, Abby just… held you. 

The water was still beating down on the two of you, her head resting on your shoulder as she rubbed your back. And you did the same. 

You felt so relaxed, and everything was quiet in your head, the lavender scent of her body wash surrounding the two of you. You could’ve fallen asleep right here. 

Her hushed tone surprised you. 

“Are you leaving tonight?” 

Your heart shredded to pieces at her nervous tone. She sighed in relief at your whisper. 

“No, Abby. I’m not.” 

You didn’t know what would happen when you returned home, but for now, you relished in her warm embrace as you nodded off onto her shoulder. 

You didn’t sleep alone. 

OOHHHHH im ovulating LOL 

anal whores this one’s for y’all😞😞

taggie waggies :3 @ohlawdthebirds @fibrogirlie @unangelic-thoughts @chrry1ovr @uraesthete @gravygranules @digit4lslut @machetegirl109 @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @macaroni676 @sillygooselit @nil-eena @elliesgirlll @hi2647 @fr0thycoffee @mai5mai @sweet-lover-girl

prologue. part one. part two. part three. interlude.

[artdcnaldson]

some gross nasty here for u (hope ur feeling ok btw, lmk if theres anything i can do)

dom art. and i dont mean like, sweet dom art, im talking ab mean art! like it's a mutually destrictive situation - he's married, you're his fucking babysitter for fuckssake - but tashis cheated on him again, and he’s pent-up and hes angry and hes stressed. and right now, the only place he has any semblance of control over his own life is the bedroom. his own dirty little secret. and you're drowning in college debt and more than stressed, yourself, and it feels so, so good to give up and give someone else the reins for a while, to throw up your hands and say, im off. just you and art. well, his cock, anyway. and if he slides you a little more money here and there to help with the bills, well, it's not like him or his wife will miss it !

art manages to keep it secret from tashi. somehow. in fact, when you're alone with him in the hotel, cross-legged on the floor watching 'encanto' for the hundredth time with lily and singing along, he can almost pretend it's you he's married to, you he wakes up to in the morning, you who raises his baby girl. but that's ridiculous, because try as he might to feel anything other than lust for you, he can't. his heart belongs to tashi, belongs to the heavy metal band on his finger. and all those sweet domestic fantasies inevitably give way to his true desires - you he bends over the kitchen counter, you who kneels before him after practice, you who he fills up with hot cum whenever he needs. and he knows you don't feel anything remotely sweet for him, either, because sometimes you're unavailable because you're on a date, and because to you, art donaldson is a risque fantasy, a way to get your rocks off, and a fat check.

and that was fine. its was totally okay.

until fucking patrick came back. and suddenly, after new rochelle, patrick's swinging around all the time and you two can't just sneak off like you used to because while tashi can be preoccupied with brand deals and press tours and media circuts, patrick has nothing better to do than to follow art around all day. you don’t care, you're just salty about the loss of your dick appointment and the pay.

once, you get close to catching them. you can hear it - patricks short, staccato breaths, the low rumble of his groans, and art. art, unlike anything you've ever heard before, art, undone in a way you didn't totally suspect was possible. art, whining into his pillows, practically begging for it-- you pull away from the door. take your hand off the knob. step away, and send a stray toy of lily's rolling. clattering. you freeze. the sounds stop.

then, art, cool as ever, the commanding tone you're painfully familiar with, "come on in, baby, i know you're out there."

it's how you end up between them. it's how patrick finds out about arts dominant streak (he thinks it's hot, even if hes much more of a brat than you are, and art enjoys knocking him down a peg). more accurately, it's how you end up beneath them, begging for them to just take you both. art orchestrating the whole thing, telling patrick when to put his dick in you, where and when patrick is allowed to cum, that he can't finish until you have, at least twice. on his face/fingers, then on his dick. patrick has to wear a condom though. even if it doesn't mean much, you're still art's.

-kit ♡♡♡

You ate <3 Soemthing is soooo yummy about being used by Art and using him back <3 Nothing more than a paycheck and a dick for you to play with <3

You’re so sexually pent up by the time you walk in on them that you’d have gotten on your knees and begged to join if Art hadn’t instructed you to. It’s annoying, how domineering and commanding he can still be while taking Patrick Zweig’s dick in his ass.

That first time, you’re beneath Art— you let him bury himself in your pussy. Each time Patrick thrusts, it sends Art pushing deeper into you. It’s heavy and hot beneath Art’s body weight, and you just lay there and take it. Watching Patrick from over Art’s shoulder, smirking at him as he reduces Art to fucked-out moans and whimpers as he gets closer and closer. You think it’s crazy— you never get Art like that, you get Art all possessive and intense, not malleable and needy.

When Art cums, you have to finish yourself off— it was more about him than you. Patrick watches your fingers move between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he continues to fuck into Art and chase his finish. You cum first, and you look so fucking pretty that he can’t help it.

Patrick likes you. Art likes you. Art likes Patrick. Patrick likes Art. But Art isn’t going to let you and Patrick be together alone. He’s no crazy, you’re his plaything, his employee. So he directs Patrick’s fingers, mouth, cock, all with the express purpose of pleasuring you.

There are no secret whispers, no chemistry he can’t see. Just Patrick listening to Art’s commands and you falling apart on the brunet’s tongue, on his cock. When you finish, you go and curl up against Art and thank him like he’d done it. You tell him you’ve missed him and he smiles affectionately, like he would smile at a cute pet doing a trick for him.

@gamesetart

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 7

WC: 1011 Masterpost

After the concussion, Danny started seeing Flash more. It was nice; it was actually really nice. It made Danny realize how alone he had been— how long he had been keeping to himself. When he could manage to be painfully honest with himself, Danny could admit that he had been isolating. He had turned down offers from coworkers and even a few neighbors to be social. It had just been too hard to fathom getting close to anyone when he was still hurting from the loss of Sam, Tucker, and, worst of all, Jazz.

Flash (the younger mostly, but even sometimes the older) didn’t really give him the chance to turn them down. Danny was sure that if he pushed that the heroes would have backed off, but Danny found that he really didn’t want to push them away. It was nice to have people who stopped to check in with him just to see how he was doing.

Questions from Flash the younger started out as post battle check-ups turned to ‘how was your day’s to whatever inane thing was running through the hero’s mind. And there was a lot that ran through the hero’s mind. (Danny tried not to dwell on the fact that he thought of that personality trait as adorable.)

“Dude, no,” Flash bemoaned, leaning against the van as Danny double checked his list that everyone on his team had fully reported in.

“I said what I said,” Danny insisted, head ducked to try and hide his smile. It was just too much fun (and too easy) to rile Flash up.

“No, I refuse to believe that you actually think Ghoulie Girls Two is better than the original game!” Flash said, gesturing wildly. As he spoke his words sped up until they were hard to follow. “The second game lost all of its soul! It was just fan service! Which, yeah, okay so One was fan service too, but it had heart! It had an actual story! Two’s story made no sense!”

“But it set up Three where the other OG creator was back on the project and Three was amazing,” Danny pointed out, tucking his tablet back in his kit.

“Okay, look.” Flash spread his hands. “I won’t argue that Three was amazing. Redeemed the series— pushed it ahead. Introduced Helena who is both amazing trans rep and just plain amazing. Lilly’s arc made me cry. All amazing. But Danny, my dude, you cannot say that because it set up Three that Two is better than One!”

Danny looked up at Flash, blinking innocently. “Well… maybe a little of it is just that I played Two first so it got me into the series… and, well, how much it offended you.”

“I— you troll!”

Laughing, Danny walked away to finish packing up with his coworkers. Being one of the early teams on the site was always hard, but it was rewarding work and Danny found he preferred it over the clean up jobs. They were lucky that there was no need for search and rescue that day; Danny would have felt compelled to stick around. As it was, Danny put out a call on his radio for his team to load up so they could head back. They would have a quick debrief, fill out their reports, restock their kits, and finally be able to head home.

Flash caught Danny before he could pile into the front seat of the van with a gentle hand on his elbow. When Danny turned to him, Flash backed off almost nervously.

“So, um, right. I had an idea? And I was wondering if I could pick you up at your place later tonight for it?” Flash asked in a blur of words.

It took Danny a moment to parse it all. “I— sure? Yeah, okay. I’m going to be a few hours though.”

“Really?” Flash asked, grinning widely. “Yeah! No prob! I’ll grab you at eight— no, nine. Bring a jacket! Bye!”

Danny was left blinking at the spot that Flash used to be, bemused by whatever had just happened.

-

Flash knocked precisely at nine. It was, in fact, so precisely at nine that Danny had to wonder if Flash had just been standing awkwardly outside the apartment for a few minutes waiting to knock or if the accurate timing was just part of the speed force.

“Hi, Danny,” Flash chirped with a nervous little smile. He was back in the separate mask, though he seemed to be wearing something not that different from his tight super suit under the large Cyborg themed hoodie. He had his Flash themed backpack again and it looked almost over filled.

“Hey, Flash,” Danny said, hoping his smile would calm whatever nerves Flash was having. “Do I get to know the plan?”

“Nope! I mean, not if you trust me? But like, if it’s bothering you to not know the plan I can totally tell you the plan so that you don’t worry, I just thought that maybe it would be a nice surprise, but maybe you don’t like surprises—”

“Flash,” Danny said, cutting off the rambling. “I’m okay not knowing.”

“Okay, okay cool,” Flash said after he took an obvious breath. “Um. Arms or piggyback ride?”

Danny glanced up from putting his shoes on. “Hum?”

“To be carried. I need to run us somewhere.”

“Oh, uh, back I guess?” Maybe it would make him feel less unsteady than being picked up.

“Okay!” Flash said. He bounced eagerly on his toes as he waited for Danny to put on his jacket and lock up. When Danny finally turned to him, Flash handed over his backpack, spun around, and crouched down. “So make sure to hold on tight! Arms and legs both.”

“Sure,” Danny said. He had no intention to even risk being dropped.

He felt a little awkward climbing onto Flash’s back, but the hero seemed perfectly comfortable with it all. Flash gave a little bounce after he was standing, as if to make sure Danny was secure, and then they were off in a blur of light and color.

-----

AN: Aaaaah these two are just so fun to write! They're just so cute. I also always enjoy writing people just being nerds~

(I'm still not very well, so I've been using this fic as my warm-up then poking at LBFD as my brain allows.)

Stay delightful, darlings!

Due to the new post editor and a few other reasons, I no longer tag people. You can be notified in much the same manner by subscribing to the master post here.

[ponder-the-orb]

Stay

Inspired by this fanart by the wonderful @abneyart

Pairing: Fem Tav/Gale, (unnamed tav)

Tags: 18+, smut and angst, post/during Act 2 romance scene

Word count: 3.3K

Read on AO3 or below

***

She isn’t a stranger to the feeling of new love. The fervent glances, the unschooled or unintentional touches, her stomach tightening to the pleasurable edge of an ache at the realisation that someone could want her just as much as she wants them. It may be a slightly different flutter each time but the joy always has that same sunny taste -something easy and new, a precious thing to be savoured. 

Not this time though. 

Because there was love. And then there was Gale. Feverishly erudite and a new kind of infuriating and who somehow slipped under her skin to tear up and remake her definition of want into something so strong it almost hurts. She should be satiated, excited even as she holds him in her arms, but she can’t. Every time she tries, the warmth is darkened by an encroaching bitterness, the same thought turning over and over in her mind until the words wear flat like a stone against the tide. 

How can she truly love a man so ready to let himself burn?

She almost doesn’t want to. She had a plan, or at least part of one. Earlier she’d murmured it to herself over and over again as that scarily accurate magical replica of him led her from camp to where he was sitting. She was going to push her feelings down, fold them away into the darkest part of her mind and let him down until she knew she could scrub Elminster’s message from both their minds. And then there he was, with an aurora painted in the sky and an almost painfully earnest confession, “I’m in love with you.”  There was never going to be any going back after that. 

The lightest scratch against under her collarbone pulls her from her thoughts. He’s shifted slightly, his chin nuzzling against her skin until a warm pink blooms in its wake. There must be a dozen pillows summoned around them and yet he seems perfectly content with his head on her chest, his hand curled under her shoulder. They’re both lying in the most comfortable bed she’s seen in what feels like months and she’s still not entirely sure where he summoned that from. The poster curtains are mostly drawn, but the light still creeps in a soft caress over both their bare forms, enough to forget the cursed land beyond even if just for one night. For once, the permanent pinch between his brows has softened, his mouth half open in what looks to be the most relaxed sleep he’s had since they began travelling together.

Sleep won’t come for her yet, perhaps not at all. Not if she’s expected to be content with the fact she can count the hours they have left tangled up like this on her fingers. 

She tightens her arms around him, breathing shakily.

She wants more time, the time stolen from them by this wretched journey. Time to discover each other properly- more than just their bodies, more than what she’d been able to glean from slightly flowery anecdotes whilst walking. She wants the mortal details most don’t know, the smallest threads of the tapestry that made him: when he started going grey, how dark he likes his toast and why one man can own so much damn purple. There’s purple bitten and sucked across his shoulders in a messy constellation now too. She presses each one gently, making a memory of how his face shifts as she does. She’d been deliberate with her mouth before, leaving bites of her passion that would shine and ache for days afterwards so he can still feel the intention whenever his fingers graze those same spots. You are wanted. Here. Now.

Even if he won’t believe it.

She presses slightly harder until his own grip tightens against her, a sigh warming her skin. She’s not sure if that’s what hurts the most right now- that it isn’t enough. For either of them. She could love him black and blue, take him to the crest of ecstasy over and over but it doesn’t take away the truth. 

They’d seen first hand the armies the Absolute commanded, the powers these tadpoles can give, how easily the most powerful minds can bend. Even if she knew what this heart of the Absolute was or had a plan to end it, what are her words against the command of a Goddess? A command that she was evidently too busy to deliver herself.

She knows it’s pointless to try and unpick divine reasoning but it’s still hard to swallow. She can’t understand how it could be so easy to sentence a person you once cared for to die with the same unfeeling cruelty as a child pulling the legs off of a spider. But Mystra’s wants and whims are just that… ineffable. Godly reasoning can never be boiled down to good or bad, selfish or wanting. Apologies and explanations won’t come. That’s something she’d been told multiple times when trying to wrap her head around the existence of the pantheon as a child. You might as well berate the sea for the vessels it swallows every day. 

She chuckles quietly to herself. A fool's errand perhaps, but she knows all too well that if it took the person she loved, then she’d try. Try and try and try until the salt dried her skin to shards and withered the magic from her soul. 

She’d never liked that metaphor anyway. The ocean can’t think about consequences or see the havoc it wreaks. Gods can. They can see and hear and touch anything they wish whenever their mood swings a certain way, somehow both omnipresent and ignorant.

It’s the reason she asked him to dismiss such a beautiful illusion of Waterdeep and bed her as far away from the cup of Mystra’s hand as possible. Her mind would have wandered, angrily. That if she turned away from Gale and bit down into the beating strands of the weave itself it might just be enough to make a Goddess bleed.

She has precious little other than the clothes on her back and equipment stained by corpses, yet when he kissed her for the first time she finally finally felt like she had something she could call her own. Would it really be such a selfish thing to fight to keep it? 

She laughs again. It’s colder this time.

She knows the answer is yes and she has no problem with that. There’s no fear of damnation- what punishment is it to be locked out of a paradise she’ll never want? She’ll wear the title of sinner like a crown if it’s cast on by a Goddess she’ll never have love for. 

The simple truth is she’ll damn the world itself if it means she can keep the man she loves whole. 

She traces the curve of his back and exhales softly towards the canopy, her words caught somewhere between a prayer and a plea.

“Please don’t do it.”

She doesn’t expect his half open eyes to meet hers as she looks back down. She stiffens slightly, unsure if he heard. He doesn’t say anything, just watches her in the dim light for a few seconds before resting his head back against her chest. She assumes he’s going back to sleep until she feels him kissing across her skin in a lazy pattern. The scratch from his beard is already strangely familiar and the tension wracking her body relaxes a little as he continues his unhurried exploration. 

Her fingers tighten in his hair as the swell of his bottom lip brushes her nipple. He smiles against her as he does it again, his tongue dipping out to lightly trace the same spot until her hips start to jerk underneath him of their own accord. She holds his head there, groaning as his hand joins in, brushing over her other nipple in a slow tease.

He stays there for a few more tortuous moments, a louder cry pulled from her as he gently nips at the skin. He lifts his head again, eyes bright and intention clear. 

“Yes?” 

She catches his jaw, dragging his face back to hers so she can press her answer into his mouth. “Please.”

She weaves one hand back into his hair, the other cupping the side of his face as he settles properly on top of her. She’s not quite sure exactly what she’s asking for, but she knows she needs him close. Close enough to keep safe, to push away all those bullshit expectations she can almost physically see weighing with crushing might on his shoulders.

Their kisses are messier than before. There’s still the lingering taste of herself on his tongue, a stark reminder of him burying his face for what felt like hours between her thighs. It hadn’t taken long to discover that he makes love with the same devastating precision as when he casts - pushing her to the heights of the heavens like it was the sole thing he’d been put on this plane to do.

She chases the heat of that feeling, grinding down against his knee in an urgent rhythm as he presses it between her legs. He swallows her harsher breath when she presses harder, letting her follow those blunt sparks of pleasure before pulling his leg away. Her frustrated cry dies as the hand brushing over her chest slips down to replace his knee.

She throws her head back, baring the column of her throat and his lips meander down to kiss that gentle curve. He caresses the length of her folds a few times, each pass becoming firmer. She bites his lip at the maddening touch, already keenly aware of how wet she is- desperate for him. Thankfully he doesn’t leave her in limbo for long as his fingers finally sweep against her clit, once, twice, three times.

For one of the first times since their journey began, there aren’t any words between them. All of them are lost somewhere between her heart and his lips on her neck. Any other time she’d be thrilled to explore the no doubt exhaustive list of other uses for his mouth, but not in this moment. Right now she needs to hear him say it, that he’s taking back his steadfast choice to die, or at least find her own way to convince him. If she can’t find her own voice then she’ll do it with her body: kissing, fucking, loving it into him until any thoughts of Mystra’s command are eclipsed by her own.

You deserve to live. 

She tugs his hair as he massages her clit more firmly, a familiar pressure he’d discovered with a smirk right before the first time he’d made her come. She rides that pleasure for a while, steady and hot as a candle’s flame. It sears right down to her toes as he slips one then two fingers inside her, curling and rubbing until she’s seeing messy stars behind her eyelids. Part of her wants to melt into the feeling and enjoy his fingers into her own end, but another part won’t let her. Not until he does.

She grabs his waist and rolls over, pressing him into the mattress. She leaves a deliberate kiss over the orb, then again like she can dive through that vile magic to his beating heart. She lingers there as she reaches down to stroke his cock, making another memory of the way his throat bobs and his eyes flutter- a sight just for her right now. 

His hand moves from between her legs to cup her hips and lightly brush the skin there. It’s a moment of sweetness in a haze of want, a reminder of exactly who she’s here with- someone who’s been looking at her for days like he’d pull the stars from the sky if she asked.

She holds his gaze as she eases herself down onto him, a rosier warmth spreading under each of his fingers as they grip her harder. 

She doesn’t need the stars. She needs to know he’ll still be there to watch them with her when this is finally all over.

She arches her back, crying out some strangled version of his name as he thrusts up under her. She follows that feeling, shifting up and down to find her rhythm. There’s no finesse here, just an almost primal need for him to find his own pleasure with her, in her. Whatever he needs, whatever she can give. 

He sits up, hands moving from her hips to lock round her back and pull them close. The orb pulses with an increasing brightness between them, bathing their skin in swathes of blue light. It had been quite the shock the first time that had happened, a sizable panic snatching away all her bliss until he’d reassured her it was the excitement and not an incoming explosion. 

She brushes those bright strands from his eye down over this neck until her thumb rests over his rabbiting pulse. It’s a small caress and her own reminder that he’s still here. That at least in this slick, desperate moment, he’s hers and hers alone.

She holds him harder and kisses any skin she can find, his neck, his forehead, the top of his head. She pauses there, inhaling deeply. Underneath the sweat and the sex there’s something else, earthy and rich like some freshly cracked tome. It almost makes her laugh because of course inbetween life, death and sleeping in the dirt he’d take the time to do that.

She leans back, taking in the sight of him even more. His hair is a mess in her hands and every inch of visible skin blooms with a deeper flush under the light. It breathes a strange sense of pride in her. To the world he’d been nothing but prim and proper since she’d first pulled him from that portal, but only she gets to see him like this: perfectly wrecked and wanting. 

He brushes her bottom lip with his thumb as she closes her eyes, pulling her focus back to his gaze. It’s more intense this time, like the look of a dying man finally seeing the oasis in the desert. It’s almost heartbreakingly beautiful but it pierces like an arrow through her chest. She pushes his face into her neck, her eyes burning.

Any other time she’d want to drown in that rum-dark want but for now she just can’t. She knows all too well what it means- how he’s clinging to this as some final comfort in his oblivion. She isn’t strong enough for that. Even the ghost of that feeling is almost enough to shatter her like delicate shells underfoot. She doesn’t want to be a bright spot in his final days, nor some happy face to think on when he finally unleashes it all. How is she supposed to hold herself together after that happens? To live with the fact that she gave herself so irrevocably to a man content to confess his love and his suicide in the same breath. 

Even with the wall she’d erected around her feelings, he has to know that she needs comfort too. Comfort from the parasite, from the pain of her own expectations, from the fact that the role of leader to a group of broken misfits was thrust upon her whether she’d wanted it or not. 

She blinks back her tears, a louder gasp leaving her as he moves faster. His fingers slip between them to find her clit and he rubs her in a circle until the hot spring coil of pleasure inside her feels ready to snap.

It isn’t fair, not even remotely and she isn’t even sure if she wants to curse or thank the winds of fate for giving her this. Or for making him so fucking easy to fall for.

He bites down on her shoulder as he comes, his movements messy and erratic while he rides out his orgasm. She roughly pulls his head back, muffling her own climax into his mouth as she finishes against his fingers.

He caresses the back of her neck as they catch their breath before gently pushing their foreheads together. It’s such a tender thing that it makes her want to cry all over again.

Don’t go.

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve been woken up that way,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to rub her shoulders. 

She brushes her nose against his as her voice finally finds its way back to her. “If you’re very lucky, it won’t be the last.”

Please. Don’t go.

He chuckles at the soft tease, dropping his face back against her neck. “Here’s hoping then.”

Please.

“Don’t go.” The words leave her mouth in a damp whisper before she can swallow them back.

His smile wavers against her skin. She winds a lock of his hair between her fingers, so tempted to hold his face there and stop him from seeing the cracks finally breaking across her expression. He shifts back, eyebrows knitting together as he softly touches the corner of her eye. She almost chokes when she sees the wetness shining on his thumb.

“What-”

“This isn’t your final night, you know. It’s… it’s not,” she blurts out, cutting him off. She sucks in a shaky breath, gripping onto his fingers like some desperate lifeline. He regards her carefully but keeps quiet, almost as if he can see the mess of words stuck in her throat like a shard of glass.

She sits for a second, grounding herself with the feel of his hands, his breaths. She hadn’t exactly planned on saying this with him inside her but she knows she can’t let it go now. She presses her forehead more firmly to his as if she could spill her intent right into him, no parasite needed. “There are going to be so many more. I’m going to make sure of that, I promise.” There’s more she wants to say, but it’s all she has right now. Something barely coherent, but as painful and honest as she can be- her heart split right open for him.

She tilts back and waits for the inevitable brush off. 

“Better to meet it on my own terms,” he’d said before. A heartbreak gift-wrapped as comfort as if that could possibly make it hurt any less.

It doesn’t come. Instead, a gentler smile settles on his face and he twists his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “Well, who am I to argue with that?”

It’s a warm touch, like magic itself spreading through her hand and into her belly. It’s not a confirmation nor a promise, but it’s something. It’s enough for the sourness resting at the edge of this night to melt away a little.

She lets him brush the tears from her face, his lips following the path of his thumb until they land back on hers. He eases her onto her back, squeezing her shoulder as he pulls out. She hears him murmur something against her skin and the stickiness between them is gone in an instant. 

Perks of a wizard lover she thinks, cupping his chin to kiss him again. 

“I mean it Gale,” she mumbles as they eventually pull apart, her words a feather’s caress against his mouth, “you’re not going anywhere.”

He settles back against her chest, lazily brushing his fingers over her stomach. “And so did I.”

His voice is soft and easy enough that it almost feels like reassurance. Just enough for her limbs to finally give into their exhaustion as he stills against her again. She knows come morning this calm will probably disappear back into the curse along with the bed, but for now she’ll take it. And perhaps in this brief moment somewhere between magic and martyrdom, she’ll even believe he isn’t a liar.

***

It only took 200+ hours of playing and three glasses of wine to finally write something BG3 related.

Again please give @abneyart a follow!

[thepeonysbackup]

I need more mindswap fics! Now! Dis shits too good!

Mind!Swapped!Alastor, who....

Pairings: Alastor x Reader

Tags: MDNI, smut plot, dub con!

Word count: 887

Request: Yes/No

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who stirs to the sound of his door being hammered on, who's face peeks over the soft blue sea of fabric to see his door swing open from the comforting space. Who basks in the soft warmth of the light as a shadow hurriedly covered him in darkness, his own smiling face hovering over his body while speaking rapidly, worry noticeable on his brow as the words came in and out of audible, so quick his ears couldn't understand at first in his haze.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who shoots up suddenly after he rolled back over onto his side, his newly felt long strands of hair tickling his nose until he cracked them open once again. Who frantically grabs at himself in a perplexed mental attack of weakness, who jolts when you touch his uncovered feminine flesh and pushes his body off the bed with a girlish scream.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who threatens absolute carnage upon you if you do not keep your mouth shut for the entire day. Who claims he'll tear your soul into bite sized pieces until you can hear not move an inch so he can feast upon your organs to make sure you die again remembering nothing.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who forces you to change his vulgar revealing feminine clothes with his own power, who only allows his shadow to cautiously and accurately switch his attire.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who doesn't leave your side, his brain being fogged by not only the need for his powerful presence to protect him in this weak state, but by the attraction to himself he felt through your body. Who clings to his own arm breathlessly, who gains attention from the others to the change in both of your behaviors.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who cannot rest alone. Who shudders at the thought of being in a restless solitude without his pocketed dimensional room and without his strong present static, who rushes through the halls in your lacey white translucent night clothes to his door to open it… Only to find himself on his armchair by the fire place, his body's clothes disheveled and face stained with a red tint as his clawed hand ruffled lightly within his pants.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who grinds his flat herbivore-like teeth at the wet feeling coating himself between his fair thighs, the womanly throbbing from his dainty petals as he pulls the front of your white camie down to cover himself and the growing wetness that he has little control over. “What do you think your doing?!” His voice would seeth, the threat coming out helplessly as a whine of embarrassment due to your girlish voice being so soft.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who gawks in pure horror at his newly developed position upside down, who writhes with cute little noises of protest as black tendrils loop around his now frail and soft form, his embarrassed tear filled eyes batting its lashes rapidly as he made eye contact with you in his body. Who watches helplessly as your hand untucks himself from his pants at a painfully slow pace, claws raking drawled out strokes across the taut strained skin as it pulsed.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who screams to the holy being who sent him to this foul place for mercy, your lips allowing the words of a subconscious pleading bitch to release as the feeling of his demonic presence rumbled throughout your trembling form in powerful thrusts of his tentacles. Who cursed you for hours before succumbing to your body's desires for his bloodthirsty feral fucking.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who quakes in his eighth orgasm finally hitting the sweetest spot inside you, voice hoarse and desperate for something other then a tentacle inside. “Dearest…” He'd moan to you, your hand still lazily stroking over his half hardened cock before the shadowy appendages pulled him over to you. His ever present smile still boring strain as you made his magic lower your body onto his lap. “Beg some more, it's so fucking hot-” You'd tell him, clawed hand gripping your chin harshly to make him listen. Oh how he trembled.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who cumdrunkenly begs for more of his own seed to fill your tight little holes. Who gurgles hushed moans onto his cock as you facefuck him into the wall, humming hard against his length as it continued to split thick white globs down your pipes until you made him choke. Who reveled in the sound of his voice calling to him, “Such a good girl..” he was for this moment.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who wakes sticky and damp with you on his lap shivering uncontrollably with your thighs locked around his hips. Who's static grows until he feels your cunt tighten around his soft cock, helping it to harden as you blubbered against his chest in pain from the soreness.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who uses you as nothing but a weak and pathetic little fleshlight for days after your incident. Who punishes you so sweetly that your mind bends into itself and snaps at its base. Who fucks you so good that the only word you remember to say is his name and not a damn thing else. “Oh, don't think that I won't remember this..”

[mrdarcysdadbod]

Still mulling over Anne with an E and I think I need to watch another adaptation or two of AOGG bc I want to criticize the... Misappropriation of narrative space, I suppose, but I suspect that's also just a side effect of the medium, you know? Because what I mean by this is that Anne of Green Gables as a book is very, very narrow in its scope, as it is purely and solely about Anne and, especially early on, she doesn't give other people's stories or perspectives much space in her narrative, and is somewhat ruthlessly self-interested at times in a way that actively constrains the scope of the narrative. To me that's an interesting and delightful aspect of the book as a childhood/coming of age novel, because especially at an age like nine or ten, children really are focused on their own internal world primarily and are still in the earlier-to-middling stages of being more conscious of those around them and their lives and perspectives. A side effect of this is that, for example, we have no clue what's going on with Gilbert other than a few comments from secondary characters and some of Anne's own accidental, quickly interrupted mentions. I find this deeply charming, especially the way that it hints at Anne having editorial sway over the narrative, because she clearly thinks about him far more than he comes up in the text, and I think it could be adapted in a cute and inventive way to the screen, but that's neither here nor there.

The way this relates to Anne With an E is that I think AWaE got too ambitious in widening the scope of the narrative. I'm not even necessarily against the idea of, say, exploring Anne's history and behavior with a modern understanding of trauma rather than an Edwardian children's novel that absolutely wasn't interested in or intending to tackle the emotional realities of traumatized children. And that's a place where it shined (the scene of her cheerfully telling her classmates about "the mouse in a man's pants" to their growing horror was painfully accurate to the experience of not understanding that your funny story is actually deeply worrying), even if it got awkward at times (unfortunately the Anne actress did not carry off the flashbacks well and they were just kind of corny). Unfortunately I do think that there's, I suppose, a maximum amount of gritty reimagining that any narrative can reasonably bear, and I think AWaE way overdid it.

(putting this under a cut bc it got long and wandered away from the point)

I think there's space in that narrative to explore something like, pick two: residential schools or early 20th century modes of queerness or some B plot about con-men that came out of nowhere and mainly served to undermine the notion of Green Gables and Avonlea as a fundamentally safe place - frankly I'm not even against the idea of undermining that notion, in a "challenging the narratives of settler-colonial pastoralism" way, but I think that the residential school plot should've been the thing to do that, as a way of emphasizing that the idyllic safety of Avonlea came not as a result of hardy white Protestant goodness but very much at the expense of displaced and oppressed First Nations people, but I think the way they chose to do the conman B plot was actually counterintuitive to that end, because it positioned the outsiders as the ones seeking to extract profit at the expense of the good hardworking white Protestants of Avonlea, who then became the victims of a thieving invader, when, like. Colonialism, y'know? I digress.

Returning to my original point about the scope and space of the narrative, I may have the most issue with Gilbert's entire plotline. On the most basic level, it requires a significant reframing and rewriting of his and Anne's relationship at this point in their story, which I just... disagree with. I think it's a misstep to try and reimagine a deliberate erasure of him from the narrative via Anne's (somewhat petty) refusal to include him, even though he's very much present and the reader is regularly reminded of his presence in her life outside the text, as an opportunity to actually remove him from Avonlea and do some weird shit with him. Gilbert Blythe doesn't really need to go on a personal journey justifying his passion for medicine and wrestling with the realities and impacts of the Atlantic slave trade. (If I read that sentence after reading the book but before watching this show, I would find it completely bewildering.) It's not even that I don't think "Canada, as an English/French colonial project, has always benefited from and enabled the violence of slavery even if actual chattel slavery wasn't present there in nearly the same amount as it was in other parts of the empire" isn't worth exploring as an element of the showmakers' clear desire to interrogate and challenge AOGG as, unavoidably, a work of colonial fiction. I just don't think putting Gilbert on a boat achieves that. I'm not sure exactly how I'd achieve it - frankly I'm not well-versed enough in Canadian Black history to have a take - but, to me, deciding to literally import a character to make the point about Canada needing to wrestle with anti-Black racism as much as anyone is, like... I mean it's kind of decentering Black Canadians, isn't it? And the whole thing puts Gilbert in this really weird position of clumsily lampshading the white savior in relation to Bash, but also kind of a white savior by proxy in terms of Bash's relationship to the Black community in Charlottetown. I don't know, I'm not qualified to have much of a take on this, it was just all so bizarre and unnecessary to me.

Returning again to my original point, I ultimately just think that, while the text of AoGG leaves a lot unsaid and implied about what's going on with other characters in the novel, there's only so far you can stretch that and still be telling the same story, you know? And while the core of the book is Anne exploring her place in the world, and that can be expanded to include more serious questions about things like childhood trauma and various societal bigotries, I still don't quite know how I feel about the necessity of committing to, essentially, a change in genre for the sake of tackling some of these issues, because at the end of the day, for all it doesn't shy away from things like Ruby's or Matthew's deaths and the attending grief, AoGG is a children's book, and those challenging episodes still come with a resolution and catharsis, and that's... not really something you can achieve, if you're going to include residential schools as a B plot. Like, for a show set in 1890 or whatever, there's absolutely no way to have any sort of resolution or catharsis about a residential school without egregiously whitewashing the reality, especially in, what, 2019 this was airing? After several years of mass graves getting uncovered? I don't know, I think they were just too ambitious. It's not that the legacies of slavery and ongoing Native genocide don't deserve to be explored, but I'm not sure that an adaptation of a book that is firmly rooted in an idealized image of a rural Canadian childhood is the place for it. It's kind of weird to have the horrific violence of the residential schools sharing space with Anne putting liniment instead of vanilla in the cake, you know?

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/752304229892358144/minors-dni-hhnrh-ive-always-wanted-to-make-a?source=share

I need more Rudy. Like .. it's a very strong need...please I'm begging you 😭

[HhhhnHHHNN WORD VOMIT INCOMING-]

Following the events of what transpires in the comic "Aliens: Stronghold" (you can find it online), Jeri the synthetic xenomorph is supposedly dead, as is Doctor Nordling. The Mayakovsky prototype records along with whatever modifications Nordling created are lost forever...

But are they?

What if a somewhat less insane crew managed to perhaps gather parts of the wreckage that ensued, studied them just enough to know how to make their own, different yet still entirely functional synthetic xenomorph? A crew that does value the monitoring of xenomorph colonies spread throughout the worlds wherein these hives are placed upon to gestate, and polices the illegal harvesting of eggs or specimen (idk, bare with me okay).

The model they designed, based heavily on Jeri, needed a couple key modifications. First, it needed to be distinct enough from the standard xenomorph drone, such so that people would not get frightened by the sight of it amongst crewmates. These differences in appearance are remedied by even more aggressive pheromone secretions to both fool and calm biological xenomorphs into believing that Rudy belongs. His somewhat less accurate appearance also allows for his maintenance to be cheaper, as well as for the synth to fit into humanoid gear more effectively.

Named after the prototype Norbert, and Jeri, Rudy only seemed fitting.

Quite like his predecessor, and as appears to be a trend recently, Rudy has a very stark and unique personality that shows itself whenever he begins to grow comfortable around someone. He's curious and talkative, having a fondness for oversharing about the xenomorph species and its many casts, as well as his interests in collecting new and exciting pieces of the world he's currently exploring with his mostly human crew and all things nature-related.

Although he's nothing if not helpful and vital to the work that is being done by this team, Rudy is still a synthetic, which creates a natural divide when it comes to forming relationships. Normally, this divide is somewhat softened when a synthetic passes as human and performs actions that make it look even more relatable. Rudy is visibly, unavoidably monstrous, and he makes no real attempt to fit in with acts that are strictly human. He will sit at the table while others eat, but he's very clearly not interested in commenting on the food and tries to pull others into conversation instead. He doesn't wear clothes, he can't facially emote anywhere as intricately as a human can.

He's lonely. And he understands why.

But it's painful for the synthetic xenomorph, because he feels no joy dwelling with other synthetics, and he can't bond with xenomorphs the way he desires. He feels at home around humans, and his own crew keeps him at bay, frustrating Rudy as they consistently deny him a real connection- Sometimes even subconsciously!

That's where you come in.

Following the unfortunate accident of the resident synthetic engineer on the ship, you are assigned his role. Arriving just in time, as Rudy is in dire need of assistance from miscalculating the height of a drop. He doesn't think much of you, at first. You'll be just like the others, finding him interesting for a short while, then resorting to formalities or simply ignoring him when he's not immediately convenient.

But he still tries anyway, because he's painfully desperate for connection.

Imagine his shock as you seem very interested in conversing with him in a consistent manner. Rudy is no idiot, he understood your interest was mainly to understand the circuitry and coding within him that allowed for such an authentic and varied range of emotions, sentiments. He fascinated you beyond merely being a bizarre thing, and that made the synth happy, fulfilled.

Rudy began to latch onto you.

When he had arrived from a routine check on a hive, he'd instantly seek you out without even needing any kind of repair, just to chat about his findings, talking about the specimen xenos the same way you'd talk about zoo mascots. He'd try to drag you down into the field with him numerous times, formulating rapid-fire arguments as to why the supervisors should allow you to accompany Rudy. You can't lie and say that you weren't a tad curious, especially after hearing the xeno's numerous stories.

Somehow, after perhaps not so friendly methods, he gets granted his wish, and down you go, into the wilderness, with a synthetic.

Rudy seems elated to have alone time with you in the nature of this vast planet, and you note that he touches you a lot more often. Grabs you with his six fingered hands, nuzzles his dome against your head, hugs you from behind and even lifts you a couple of times, he's utterly euphoric, something you've never seen in a synth. Sure, your crewmates had made comments about how close Rudy had gotten to you, how the synthetic "had a puppy crush on you", but those were just jabs you didn't mind taking. And surely, when Rudy replied positively to those jests, he was only trying to get in on the joke, right?

You remember the shock and fear that permeated you as you first entered a colony. Rudy didn't let you get too far into the structure, but you got to observe the entrance, the little resting holes on walls that xenos occupied when drained. You got to see drones marching around, dragging potential hosts with them. And you even got "checked" by a soldier cast. It had been strange then, watching Rudy communicate back and forth with the xenomorph, effectively clearing you of suspicion after a few snort-hisses. Your heart never beat so loudly before, and you remember laughing wildly with the synthetic after the two of you had retreated into safer grounds.

Yet, for as much as you had grown to enjoy having Rudy as a friend, you couldn't ignore the remarks your crewmated had been making about him. How the synth would ravenously defend you from the smallest of accusations, how he collected everything you left behind and would even steal presents you gave to others. He became mouthy and troublesome when they refused to let you go explore with him.

And lately, to make it all even more confusing, you've been finding him "doing maintenance" on himself. Things he won't let you access, that he tries to deviate your attention from. For just the glimmer of a second, you hope you only imagined spotting the digital blueprint for a set of modified synthetic genitalia...

Something's not right with Rudy, you think, catching him staring intensely at you again.

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 20)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut, Torture

Words: 1,889

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the separation between Robert and you became agonizingly long. The weight of the situation bore down heavy on both your hearts, as you tirelessly navigated through the treacherous waters of uncertainty and danger.

Albeit the fact that you had been moved to more pleasant prison just two days after you had been arrested by Pash, you were still confined to a secure facility which, luckily for you, had medical care.

In this facility, the months dragged on, a never-ending cycle of uncertainty and despair.

While you were away from him, Robert felt as if he were living in a purgatory, caught between his duty and his love for you. The revelation that Kitty Oppenheimer, his own wife, had betrayed him like this was a bitter blow. It shattered any semblance of trust he had left, leaving him feeling betrayed and empty.

It was her who leaked secret information to an agent of the soviet union and the investigation into Kitty's actions revealed a web of secrets and lies that she had woven meticulously.

She had leaked information and tried to divert the blame onto you in order to get rid of you and this, itself, was a dangerous game that she was playing.

It was a twisted and cruel act, one that Robert never thought he would witness from someone he had once loved. The fallout from Kitty's betrayal only complicated matters further. The authorities were now wary of potential moles within the project, questioning everyone's loyalty and motives and despite her partial admission, the investigation into your past continued.

With Kitty’s actions, it seemed that no one was above suspicion, including Robert himself. Every step he took was scrutinised, his every move monitored while he led the project. Desperate to protect you and ensure your safety, Robert used his influence where he could. He pulled strings, called in favours, and pleaded with higher-ups to expedite the investigation so that you could reunite. But bureaucracy moves at its own pace, and justice seemed painfully slow.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. Robert could only imagine what you were going through, locked away in a military facility, while the world passed you by.

His heart ached at the thought of you being subjected to the harsh realities of prison life, especially with a child on the way. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing day marked by a dull ache of longing and a gnawing fear of the unknown.

Robert grappled with his own guilt, feeling responsible for the situation that had befallen you. He questioned every decision he had made, wondering if there was something he could have done differently to protect you.

As the months went by, Robert found solace in his work. He threw himself into research and experimentation, channelling his frustrations and fears into the pursuit of scientific breakthroughs. He pushed the boundaries of his own knowledge, hoping that some great discovery would alleviate the pain of his separation from you.

***

Unable to see each other or communicate directly as visitors were strictly prohibited at the facility, the only solace came in the form of letters.

General Groves became the messenger, reading your heartfelt words and delivering them to each of you personally.

Every letter was a lifeline, a fragile thread connecting your hearts in the midst of an unpredictable and unforgiving world. Through ink-stained pages, you shared your hopes, fears, and struggles, desperate to hold onto the love that had been abruptly torn from your grasp.

The letters were filled with a mix of joy and sorrow, as you recounted each day's events, except those related directly to the development of the gadget.

You described the unbearable loneliness and longing for each other's embrace, the difficulty of trying to remain strong amidst the harsh conditions. But amidst the darkness, there were glimpses of hope as you spoke of the unwavering belief that one day, you would be reunited.

Robert, ever the optimist, wrote poetry to cheer you up and you poured your heart onto the pages, documenting the challenges you faced, both physically and emotionally while being confined.

The uncertainty of your fate weighed heavily on you, but you refused to succumb to despair. Instead, you clung to the memories of your time together, allowing them to fuel your determination to overcome the adversities you faced.

General Groves, touched by the depth of your love and resilience, took it upon himself to ensure the safe passage of each letter. He knew the importance of this lifeline, recognising that their words held the power to inspire and sustain you. With each delivery, General Groves witnessed the unwavering devotion that bound you together.

Your love, tested by distance, confinement, and uncertainty, remained steadfast, growing stronger with each passing day. These letters became a testament to the power of love in the face of adversity, a bond that refused to be broken. And so, the months crawled by, punctuated by the arrival of each letter. They became the rays of hope that pierced through the darkness, reminding you that love could endure even in the bleakest of times. Every word, every sentiment, forged a connection that transcended the physical divide, drawing you closer together even in your separation.

***

Then, one day, General Groves attended Los Alamos without a letter in his hand, informing Robert that he had something much more exciting to give to him.

Handing him a photograph, he said “Congratulations Robert! You have a healthy baby boy.”

With trembling hands, Robert took the photograph from General Groves. As his eyes settled on the image, his heart skipped a beat. There, captured in a moment frozen in time, was a tiny bundle of joy cradled in your arms. The weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders as he gazed at his son for the very first time. Tears welled up in Robert's eyes, a mixture of relief, longing, and overwhelming joy. It had been a year of unimaginable anguish and uncertainty, but seeing the radiant smile on your face as you held their child close, he knew that everything he had fought for had been worth it.

“He is perfect,” Robert declared tearfully, unable to take his eyes off the photo. In that instant, all the heartache faded into insignificance compared to the overpowering sense of pride and love surging through him. This new life embodied the essence of your undying commitment to each other, standing tall against the forces that sought to rip them apart.

Looking anxiously, Robert said, "This baby will change things and all our sacrifices won't go to waste."

"No, they won't Robert," the General said before he nodded resolutely, acknowledging the weight of responsibility resting on Robert's shoulders as well as his own.

"Please, can I see him. He is my son," Robert asked, his voice cracking, but General Groves told him that this was not an option due to security reasons.

Heartbroken yet understanding, Robert swallowed back tears and thanked the General for the photograph.

"I understand, General," he managed to say, his voice hoarse with grief and happiness mixed. 

"When you see her next, can you give her my letter and tell her that she is doing amazing and that I am proud of her?" His voice breaking slightly, he added, "Tell her how brave she is. How beautiful she looks holding our little miracle. Tell her I miss her dearly. And let her know...let her know..."

His voice trailed off as Robert realized he couldn't quite put into words exactly what he wanted to express about his feelings toward you, about their relationship, about their shared experiences - especially after learning about your bravery in giving birth under such difficult circumstances.

"I suggest you write it down, Robert. I will be here until noon," said General Groves, sensing Robert's struggle to articulate his feelings. "Take your time," he told him with a pat on the shoulder. 

Grateful for the supportive presence, Robert nodded and quickly retrieved paper and pen from his office. Sitting down, he began scribbling feverishly, trying to find the right words to convey his thoughts and emotions towards you.

In a few moments, he finished composing the most honest and vulnerable message he had ever written and it was this very honest and raw letter of his that brought tears to your face. 

*** The Letter ***

My Dearest [Your Name],

Words cannot express the overwhelming emotions coursing through my veins as I hold this photograph of our beautiful baby boy. Seeing his innocent face has cast a brilliant light upon the darkest corners of my weary soul. In this single image, I find solace, hope, and an abundance of joy that courses through my every fiber.

I stand here, with tears streaming down my face, in awe of the miracle you have brought into this world. Our son, our precious creation, is a testament to the strength and resilience of our love. He is a beacon of hope, a symbol of our undying commitment to one another and to a brighter future.

I cannot help but think of the sacrifices you have made, the hardships you have endured, and the relentless determination that has guided you through this tumultuous journey.

Our love has endured the trials, the uncertainty, and the immense pressure placed upon us. And now, in this moment, the weight of the world seems insignificant compared to the boundless love radiating from this tiny bundle of life.

As I gaze upon this photograph, I am filled with an indescribable pride for what we have created together. Our love, our bond, has transcended distance, sacrifices, and the devastating impact of this war.

Please tell our son, when the time comes, that his father loves him more than words can convey. Tell him about the countless lives that will reap the benefits of our sacrifices. Whisper to him our story, a tale of resilience, bravery, and the unwavering love that binds us all together.

And to you, my love, I want to express something that words alone could never encapsulate. Your indomitable spirit, your unwavering courage, and your unyielding love have sustained me through the darkest of days. In you, I have found my anchor, my refuge, and my reason.

Please know that you are an extraordinary woman, my love. Your bravery, your strength, and your unwavering spirit during the pregnancy and birth have left me in awe. The thought of you going through such a monumental moment without anyone by your side breaks my heart, but it also fills me with immense pride. You are my rock, my source of inspiration, and the embodiment of everything that is beautiful in this world. Our son is fortunate to have you as his mother, and your love and guidance will shape him into an incredible human being.

When the time comes for us to be reunited, know that I will hold you tightly, for I have missed your touch more than words can express. Until then, my heart stays with you, my love.

Yours, forever and always,

Robert

Tags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[theresthespark]

Okay Lestat is canonically a Scorpio and Louis a Libra which are both painfully accurate. I wanted to play Estelle and share my astrology headcanons

Claudia:

Leo rising – the hair, the general slayage, her association with yellow aka the sun

Aries sun – she’s so bold plus libra and Aries are sister signs so they share traits that present different which feels right for Louis and her’s kinship

Taurus moon – not prone enough to over emotionality to be a water sign but not overly practical in the way the other earth signs are. Very stubborn and does canonically enjoy beauty and luxury. Also if you know a Taurus I feel like it just makes sense

Madeleine:

Virgo Rising – She just gives demure when we first meet her and yet no bullshit either. Virgos just seems very put together almost unassuming which is funny since every Virgo I know is crazy lol

Aquarius sun – the decisions she’s made in her life feel the best suited for an Aquarian. Also her talking to Armand? That woman stopped giving a fuck about what everyone else is doing years ago

Cancer moon – Almost did Scorpio here but her loyalty and intensity didn’t feel suited there. Cancer still has some of Scorpio’s snap but its homey and soft too. I also can’t see Claudia gravitating towards someone similar to Lestat at all lol

(Bonus: suspected Aries Venus. The intensity of her!! Her directness when she cares! How she chases life and joy!)

Armand:

Pisces Rising – those big ole eyes are a big marker for this one. Also Pisces have big baby energy despite being the oldest sign which feels perfect for him

Gemini Sun – Please what else could he be? There’s the 27 different faces but more so, the love for technology and knowledge, the urge to always strategize. The near inability to ground into his emotions. The perpetual anxiety. Also Geminis are so funny without even trying but that’s just me

Capricorn Moon – Caps are ruled by Saturn which is in short a struggle bus placement. Fits well with the forever 27 thing (stuck in perpetual Saturn return) and his tendency to self flagellate. Also it being represent by the devil card in tarot. Iykyk

Daniel:

Capricorn rising – When you first meet him he comes off quite no bullshit in a way that only makes sense for Capricorn to me. Also fits for the workaholic tendencies (our risings tend to be a truest to self energy aka us at our best). Also feel that may be what draws Armand to him hehehe

Sagittarius sun – If you look up famous Sags all of them are silly goobers (and lowkey problematic 💀). Like him being a Sag makes SO much sense to me for San Francisco. Only a Sag would make that many dumb decisions just bc it was a vibe lmaoo

Aries moon – Thinking about Eric’s comment about Daniel not taking kindly to bullies. Also how similar him and Claudia feel to me I feel they’d share some major signage too

(Bonus: Gemini Mercury bc his got the gift of the gab, the quick wit)

Louis: (i couldn’t resist finishing their big three)

Libra rising – Ruled by Venus, Helen of Troy, Malena coded. What else could he be really?

Libra sun – Painfully canon

Scorpio moon – With how he talks about himself and his life versus how he moves through the world it makes perfect sense to me. So much emotion but also a lot of passion all bottled unless in the right company. Also he would loooove SZA (plus plus you’re more likely to become heavily attached to people who’s sun is your moon)

Lestat:

Aquarius rising – Leo’s sister sign (perfect for him and Claudia’s dynamic). She’s a rebel she does her own thing she does not give a flying fuck about the rest of yall. Only an Aquarius could be responsible for the events in Queen of the Damned

Scorpio sun – Again debilitatingly canon

Leo moon – Do I even need to explain it? Pull any TVL passage if you want an explanation lmaooo

I hope you enjoyed my analyzes I love astrology and would kill to get a proper birth chart for these characters. The house placements! The Aspects! The CHIRONS!! I need to chill

[codenamesazanka]

I feel like Scissors-kun is not actually a Tenko expy. I feel like it's more accurate to say Tenko is a Scissors-kun expy, of AFO's creation, reversed-in-time.

Because Scissors-kun and Tenko (pre-AFO-pick-up) share a lot of similarities! Scissors-kun even arguably gets it 'worst' due to the severity and length of time of his abuse. Both Scissors and Tenko get a quirk mutation that their families are unprepared for; both are from abusive families that can't accept them or support them; both eventually lose their family and runs away, and so is left wandering the streets for a while.

At the moment, it doesn't seem like Scissors has any connection to AFO - which means what Scissors went through is a very real thing that happens. And that means what happened to Tenko really could've happened organically - and this was the belief that Shigaraki had for years, this was why Shigaraki harbored hatred in his heart and sought to destroy (with help from AFO).

The 419 Reveal made it so that AFO engineered this tragedy, and thus we can dismiss Shigaraki's resentment as false... except now that we know such tragedy can and does happen to other children, that resentment is not so false. But we already knew that, thanks to Toga, thanks to Dabi, thanks to Spinner. The League's anger is still real. Shigaraki's hatred - of complicity, of Heroes' failures, of ostracization - is still basically real; maybe not coming from him, after the 419 reveal, but definitely can be from someone else.

Shigaraki's backstory was a very strong case against how Hero Society, an indictment of its failures. Chapter 419 destroyed that argument by claiming it was actually AFO, and things wouldn't have been that bad if not for this Evil Man. But now Scissors-kun's backstory destroys Chapter 419's claim. We're back to where we started.

The only thing that is different, that the story claims to have changed, is that Scissors-kun is saved by That Old Lady... Who only saves Scissors-kun because of her previous experience with Tenko, and of watching grown-up Tenko get killed by Deku.

Had AFO not targeted the Shimura family, had AFO not plotted creating Tenko, then The Walk would not have happened, and The Old Lady would not have ever failed to help Tenko and never got her guilt complex--

--But this means that Scissors-kun is still abused, a 'Tenko' still existed out there, and should he have ever managed to ran away even in this 'nicer no-AFO interference timeline', the Old Lady might not have helped him either.

The Walk is very painfully real, and Shigaraki truly suffered that - but of all the things that Deku needed to save Shigaraki's heart from - Kotarou's slap, having Decay, killing his family, all of which turns out to be something that can be traced back to AFO's design - that's the one thing Deku does not do. Barely addressed.

(Leaving Scissors to potentially become a diet Shigaraki/League member who, without the backing of an Evil Mastermind, would've just been beaten up early on by the Heroes and tossed into jail, no one to save his heart because, hey, he's just a rampaging but manageable villain with no convenient psychic link to a Hero student.)

What might have worked is if we had an Old Lady Expy help Scissors instead, to show that 'What Deku Showed the World That Day' made an impact on even randos, so that any rando is now happy to help creepy looking homeless kids??? But for some reason it had to be That Old Lady, and it feels like the series has effectively cannibalized itself. Again.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

VENUS IM BACK!! LIKE A WEEK BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY (it's the 24th!!)

I present inceltaru with ANGEL GF <333

Incel childe how just things you're the cutest thing!! Ofc just because ur an angel doesn't mean you're free from his sinful thoughts<33 ugh he's such a little freak that he researches angels mating habits so he knows what signs to look for:((( definitely not so he can fuel his little fantasies in a more accurate way!! He would never!!! Imagine him reeling when you ask him to preen you're wings cause it's only something mate's do</33 he's SO hard at the thought of being your beloved mate that it hurts!!<33 the purrs you let out when he preens you're wings aren't helping either:(( all he can think about is just pushing you down and fucking you :((( ofc he wouldn't do that without you're permission, BUT!! Later when he's done with preening you're feathers and being the perfect little doting mate he's watching angels be fucked stupid on different sites <333 he likes imaging its you while pumping his cock while you sleep all curled up on his bed!!

Ugh bringing back his filthy panty stealing habit he just snatches them right out of your basket when you're distracted (they're all cute and frilly!! Ofc you don't know what it does to him </33) imagine him slipping in some aphrodisiacs into you're food cause angels don't rlly go into heat :(( he just thinks you look soooo cute all sobbing and needy <333 he can't help but playing and teasing you're pretty pussy for hours on end not letting you come until he sits your cute cubby body on his face for him to eat out!! When he's finally had enough of you're juices (he could never have enough but his cock is painfully hard, and he's cum once untouched!!) he starts to fuck ur fat pussy the right way, praising you for being such a good girl<333 he def creampies you cause he just wants you're cute little chubby belly full of his kids!! I forget to mention the amount of marks he leaves to show others you're HIS pretty little angel and no one elses!! He definitely messes with the base of you're wigs to get you all whiney from how sensitive they are on aphrodisiacs :(((

-chubby darling anon!!

WAHHHH OH HOW IVE MISSED YOU… omg!! birthday!! i love birthdays :3 i love festivities and balloons and cake and confetti and sprinkles!! you better have had a super duper awesome birthday OR ELSE!! happy one week belated birthday :3 but… my god… your brain is huge… angel girl and yucky inceltaru :((

any sort of creature or hybrid has the blood rushing lower in his body but, he admittedly has a soft (hard?) spot for pretty angels. put the prettiest little angel ever in front of him? he’s a goner. now, have that little angel be absolutely fascinated by him? double whammy, he’s done for.

the soft and nearly iridescent feathers of your wings called out to his mind and hands incessantly. with fluffy down at the base, it was difficult to repress his constant need to mess with the soft surface. Ajax eyed them up day and night while flicking through various adult videos or books divulging the mating habits of angels. if he became your mate, he’d get to care for you constantly which includes getting his dick wet AND petting your wings. what does he truly have to lose? so when you approach him shyly following your afternoon nap requesting he preen your wings, he thinks he’s died and finally gone to heaven alongside you. yet, he sits himself down and fixes up all your feathers. the little hums and whines you let out do nothing to settle the raging boner he’s developed yet he can't find himself wanting to stop; you're just too cute to resist.

later, you request his assistance nesting. with your fluttering lashes and doe eyes the idea of declining doesn't even cross his mind lest crystalline tears fall; that's something he looks forward to seeing when he finally splits you open for the first time. he brings you an infinite source of soft toys and blanks to cozy up in yet you still request some of his clothes to add to the pile under the pretense of wanting his smell to linger. cheeks thoroughly flushed, he hands you a couple hoodies and shirts to bury in the already large nest you've built. the satisfied noise you make upon deeming the nest complete has his heart about to burst from his chest. you're just too cute and you don't even seem to know it!! that said, since you've taken some of his favourite pieces of clothing, it's only fair he steals some of yours, right? sure, his plans are significantly more lewd but he's a man that regularly thinks with his dick more than his head. his favourite panties are always the ones in sweet pastel colours with pretty bows. your pussy most certainly would be a present so a bow suits the piece of clothing. Ajax always makes sure to aim right for the crotch, where your entrance would sit, when he finishes.

angels sure are interesting beings! being monogamous mates and sharing similar habits with other creatures that have heat and rut cycles, one would assume you'd have one as well, but angels are beings with a biological duty of sorts and consequently don't have any such cycles. Ajax isn't opposed to manipulating your body and needs to the slightest degree so if aphrodisiacs are what it takes to finally fully have you, he won't turn away at the idea. he justifies it as simply appealing to a biological process you sadly don't have!! it's no crime to finish what your body had already started.

every morning he lets you take care of the cooking while preparing a glass of juice for you. this particular morning, he had chosen orange juice due to the opaque nature disguising any cloudiness made by the drug; he does have brain cells. with eyes low over his glasses, he watches as you eagerly drink the beverage, feet lightly kicking underneath the table and a smile playing on your lips. you really are too sweet for your own good, he thinks. it takes mere minutes for the warmth to build up in your body and the slick to gather in your panties. your eyebrows are furrowed with short pants of breath leaving you mouth. Ajax plays the caring mate roll perfectly, asking if you're alright and gently touching your forehead with the back of his hand. even that slightest bit of contact has you keening and begging him to keep touching you exactly the way you both want. he's quick to scoop you up and place you back in the sweet nest of your own creation while murmuring promises of taking care of you. long fingers slide your panties off your hips and drool drops from his mouth onto your stomach at the sight of the spider web like strings of arousal clinging from your cunt to the flimsy cotton. thoughts and rationality left behind, he dives into your pussy slurping and sucking on every part he can. Ajax nibbles gently at your lips, clit, and thighs just to hear you sob more for him; these are the tears he wanted to see. he takes time easing you to orgasm after orgasm on his face until the wetness against the front of his boxers becomes unbearable to which he shucks them off in favour of slowly rubbing his tip back and forth between your folds. he soothes your watery cries with his own mouth as he sinks into you slowly. the aphrodisiac did its job in getting you needy but certainly couldn't bypass just how tight you are around him. he's, regretfully, anything but slow while he fucks you. it's your first time but he knows you need it hard. with fingers playing at the base of your wings, he fucks your velveteen hole with vigor only matched by agression you see in one of his big gaming matches. it's sloppy and harsh but enough to finish you both off quickly and oh, how you've fallen in love with the sensation of being bred so very full.