#Sensible enough to forget immediately | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladyrosemone · 26 days ago

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Not the chose one

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

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LADS x No-Mc

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Before all this, you'd never really thought about fate.

You're not someone who believes in coincidences, or past lives, or anything that's fanciful and bordering on insanity, no, you operate like the world does: with proof. If someone says something, you have to prove it to believe it, see it and feel it to know they mean it, and so far, it's worked out wonderfully for you.

A little too well, and the saying goes, too much of anything is bad.

The first was a doctor, you met him at that first aid course your friend taught as part of his internship at a hospital; he was handsome and intelligent, sensible and down-to-earth. The romance was slow but no less passionate, where every detail spoke a thousand words, and the moments together were so special that their absences didn't feel heavy.

Until it wasn't enough because of a new person.

He said she was a childhood friend, then that she was a regular patient (conveniently forgetting that he was the one who took her on as an immediate patient), and then he didn't even deny his feelings for her.

Leaving him was painful but not difficult, life doesn't end because of a broken heart.

But then your savior arrived (literally), a hunter from the Hunters' Association who take care of wanderers saved you from being devoured by one. Meeting him was like unlocking a new character in your life, you'd bump into him in the most random places! And most of the time, he was dozing or on lookout duty. Getting close was easy; letting himself be known was the real challenge; but that never stopped you, and the reward was worth it, love with him felt out of this world, like traveling to another galaxy and shining among the stars.

Until your star turned into a meteor.

You don't believe in divine coincidences, but when he started showing up late, going on more missions with a new partner, and stopping coming to your house to sleep, your instincts (or unresolved trauma) made you aware of the coincidences until he confessed to having an interest in this new hunter, who wanted to set things right. Did it hurt? Like shit, this time something more than your heart was hurt. Your pride, maybe? Well, it was only twice. They say the third time's the charm, right? Let's see if it's true.

The opportunity presented itself at an art gallery; it's not your strongest area, but you don't mind letting new experiences in, especially now that the days have become more bearable after your breakup, which wasn't really because you weren't formally together, the terrible ones almost something.

You didn't expect to meet the artist of all the works on display that night, nor to have offended him with your limited knowledge of art, canvases, and brushstrokes. Luckily, he didn't take it (so) personally, and the night passed with the artist talking about his works while you listened half-heartedly. The dates were quick, loving him was swift, like fire spreading in a forest, fiery and lively, but there were also times when loving him was like floating in the sea, calm and thoughtful, a warm embrace from the tides that lull you to sleep.

Did you forget to never let your guard down on the open sea? Apparently that includes people too.

Suddenly, the fire between you faded, dates weren't frequent, the sea that rocked you now turned into waves that dragged you to the bottom where its light was lost, and the day you feared most (but hoped for) arrived with a text message.

<<"This isn't going to work out">>

That bastard…he really broke up with you via text message, and the worst part was seeing him walking around with a girl in his arms. When you least expected it (and you really didn't expect it), a criminal leader appeared.

Yeah, you didn't even know him first.

It turns out that when a robotic crow lands in your yard, calling animal services doesn't work; luckily, following instructions was never a problem, and with a few YouTube videos, the not-robot-bird worked like a charm. Did you know that crows remember faces and reward those who helped them? Well, you knew when he kept showing up in your neighborhood, attacking squirrels that steal seeds from (real) birds, bringing you precious stones (where does he get that from?!), and even letting you pet him when you came up for air.

That's when two guys showed up at your house "voluntarily" taking you with their boss to area N109. It turns out their boss isn't just any person, he's a CRIMINAL boss, leader of the Onychinus group, who deal in things that are neither legal nor ethical. Having fixed his crow without asking questions or involving the police (animal welfare was an honest mistake) impressed him and made him interested in you. Whether that was good or bad, time will tell.

And the time you spent together was, against all odds, the calmest time you've had in years.

A total gentleman, protective of your safety, treating you equally while also pampering you, intelligent, a provider, the literary trope of "I hate everyone except you" , you enjoyed it very much. After a disastrous love life, it was a sigh of relief to have a man you could see a future with. Even the twins loved you! They were like your younger brothers (if you'd had any).

There are already too many coincidences; at this point, it must be a pattern.

Do you have to guess? The signs were there! As soon as you identified the first sign, you left, you fled, without the strength to endure another <<"This isn't going to work">> or <<"I have feelings for her">> or your favorite! <<"It was always her"> >

You didn't even say goodbye to the twins or the funny crow who would definitely have gone with you if you hadn't installed an update on his hard drive, an app that made his eyes change color like a disco ball.

Love was off the table, dating, men (Ugh!), anything that has to do with dating someone else is out.

Saying it is always easier.

You met the colonel in a park, yes, a park. It turns out you were passing by just getting some fresh air; he was feeling blue, boom! The next thing you know, you're on an unauthorized tour of his ship and then flying through the sky into space.

That's what it felt like to be with him: adrenaline and speed, but also home and strength, a refuge to turn to when memories became heavy and nightmares felt real. They became each other's rock, sharing their fears, their worries, and their sorrows, creating happy memories that would overshadow the bad times.

Why don't you learn? There's even a Greek myth that talks about it, Icarus, remember? Flying too close to the sun will burn you.

- I'm sorry

- I know

You should be used to it, It shouldn't hurt like the first time, you should have expected it, you convince yourself of all this, and yet, as soon as you arrive at your half-empty apartment (because some of your things are at their house), you burst into tears against the front door.

Why does this keep happening? Why are they leaving? Why do you keep letting your heart fall if you already know how it's going to end? Are these clues? Is life trying to tell you that love isn't for you? Are you the woman in the process? If so, it's not fair.

They shouldn't practice on you; they shouldn't talk to you sweetly and make you blush, they shouldn't play with your hair before bed, they shouldn't know your likes and dislikes, they shouldn't know that you don't like pickles because they give you allergies, they shouldn't kiss you, they shouldn't make you feel like the only one because in the end you won't be, you'll be the one with whom they've perfected all that, they'll be the best version of themselves for someone else, someone you were never going to do.

And now you're in your apartment, with the lights off, the moon peeking out as if interested in your pain, crying because another man chose to love another woman over you, because once again you weren't the chosen one, you were the path to the other woman. Once again, you are not the winner.

That's why you don't believe in destiny, or astral coincidences, or soulmates, because in the end, no one can prove to you that they're real. All you have to do is learn from real life, and real life taught you that you won't be enough, that you don't have a destination at the end of the road, or a soulmate across the street, or anything waiting for you on the other side of the world.

It's you, it's only you, and it will always be only you. It's time to realize that and accept it once and for all.

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#lads x reader #lads #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #reader #reader insert #non mc reader #loveanddeepspace #lads sylus #lads caleb #lads rafayel #lads zayne #lads boys #lads xavier #lads x non!mc reader

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faiszt · 26 days ago

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⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀ .⠀⠀⠀˚⠀ ⠀⋆⠀ ⠀ROBERT REYNOLDS IN⠀⠀:⠀⠀♥︎

02.⠀A BLACK CAR AND TWO KISSES ⠀꒰ summary ꒱⠀❛❛ i only want him if he says it first to me. ❜❜ ⠀ he looks like he works with his hands and smells like marlboro reds. ✴⠀the rush was taking over you as one. something you had never felt, something you know you shouldn’t have felt, but your thoughts were taking over more than the rush and you were in his car again, thinking that, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let yourself live for the first time.⠀ LAST CHAPTER

·⠀୨୧⠀·⠀contains⠀:⠀pastor’s son!bob &. younger naive!reader.⠀mentions of religion.⠀age gap ꒰ all characters are of legal age ꒱⠀ family ’n mommy issues.⠀no use of y/n.⠀strong language.⠀cheating.⠀wordcount⠀:⠀6.6k⠀!!

·⠀୨୧⠀·⠀sweet taglist⠀:⠀@lewispullsman ⠀ @rawanevil @morganfullaaa ⠀ ⠀ @hypnobeauty ⠀ ⠀ @petersluvbug @sentryluvs ⠀ ⠀ @em1989ts ⠀⠀ @mommymilkers0526 @imdefonothere ⠀ to be added comment here! ♥︎ ృ

my masterlist and the guidelines!⠀꒰ THE PLAYLIST ꒱

IN THE SILENCE OF LOVE, hate sometimes echoes louder.

the only sentence you heard being whispered against your ear before you felt your wrists being locked behind your back, just like your ankles—as you were thrown into the lake. sinking immediately, you felt your chest hurt, as if it might explode as you tried to scream and struggle inside the freezing water, drowning.

fear, despair, anger. a mix of emotions rising through your mind, making you go crazy in your last attempt to breathe. you would never return to what you were.

death.

your heart raced when you woke from your sleep, panting and sweating as if you were being warned, as if your subconscious needed to tell you something, something you chose not to listen to. “jesus...” a long sigh escaped your lips in an attempt to calm down, a hand going towards your chest. “i’m fine... i’m fine, it was just a stupid nightmare.” you tried to convince yourself before looking at the digital clock on the nightstand. 11am, you overslept.

the noise inside and outside the house was noticeable, which was nothing new when you had two energetic little girls in the house who woke up early in the morning. brushing your teeth was a reflective task when you were thinking so much, almost forgetting what happened yesterday, but you couldn’t completely forget it even if you wanted to.

no one would ever know about it, perhaps for the sake of your own reputation. at best, you would only be kicked out of your house if your mother knew that you came in bob’s car late at night without his fiancée around or anyone else.

you just had to not show that there was anything different, so she could live in her fantasy of a perfect family. as if she hadn’t been a sinner since the day she got pregnant by your father in a one night stand. what a hypocrite, demanding of you what she did not do. you had to roll your eyes in the mirror when you thought about it.

“you woke up... almost lunch time.” your mother grumbled bitterly when she saw you yawn into the kitchen. there was always a tension in the room when it was just you and her, as if the light had been sucked out even when it was daylight. you heard the judgment even when she was just being sarcastic and mean to you because she could be.

a wry smile crept onto your lips, your eyes falling to your feet as you walked to the fridge, wanting to hydrate your dry throat from the time you had that nightmare. “yeah, good morning to you too.” your attempt to avoid any conflict was the only thing you knew how to do since you were thirteen, probably, it was the most sensible way to act.

but, she was never satisfied. work hard, work hard and it’s still not enough, why can’t you be what she wants? it’s so simple, just do it. “come home from church alone last night?” the question made you stay silent for a moment, drinking the water with your back to her in the same way she had her back to you while cutting some vegetables.

“yes. i’ll meet mrs. reynolds at church again today.” it wasn’t the first time you lied about something, strangely it felt better to lie whenever she used that tone of voice where you didn’t know if she wanted to kill you or not, it was hard to understand her when she seemed to want to see you confused. “i’m not gonna have lunch, i can buy something to eat later.”

just like your silence from before, your mother also fell silent, the only noise in the kitchen being the sound of the knife hitting the wood of the board where she was cutting carrots on top. “don’t come back late, your sisters only sleep when you get home.” she said coldly, still with her back to you even as you walked past her. “and if the neighbors see you coming home late, you know what happens, so don’t do it.”

“i know, i’ll be back before dark.” it wasn’t like it would take that long to help mrs. reynolds at church, you’d be home early and could just... stay in your room alone and quiet until dinner. but, let’s face it, mrs. reynolds could probably go on for, at least, four hours talking nonstop about absolutely any subject. she talked to you more than your own mother, how funny.

later.

2pm, the sun was shining through your bedroom window when you finished putting on your dress and went out, telling your mother that you were going to the church to help mrs. reynolds like you had said to her before. with a not very pleasant look, the older woman nodded, but not before muttering a: “what a weird dress.” as if she wasn’t the one who bought it for you.

like any other day, you ignored her before walking past your father—watching the news in the living room with one of your younger sisters sitting next to him. a smile played on your lips, thinking about how similar they were. “hey, hey... where are you going?” the little girl almost jumped off the couch the second she saw you heading towards the door.

curious and energetic, the kind that probably had the energy to spend an entire day running around the yard if your parents didn’t set limits on her. “church. why?” you answered her, looking down trying to hide the smile from before.

“can i go with you? please, please, please... i promise i’ll behave!” she was almost begging, but your father quickly got up from the couch and lifted her into his arms as if the short little girl was a sack of potatoes that he had placed easily over his shoulder—which earned him a harmless, half-angry snort of protest from her.

“leave your sister alone, you’re not going anywhere now, young lady.” he said playfully, still with her over his shoulder as he turned to wink at you and whisper a: “go.” without a doubt, perhaps your father was the only adult there who could show his affection without hurting someone first. honestly, not even you were like that sometimes, you couldn’t escape your mother’s blood running through your veins.

without saying anything, you walked out the front door, calmly, as if you were going for a walk—which you should have been doing if his car wasn’t waiting for you at the end of the street. always on time, you thought. you had to look around surreptitiously, making sure no neighbors were watching while trying to find a reason to simply talk about you and use your name with blasphemy.

bob saw you in the rearview mirror, pulling his cap off his face as he leaned back against the leather seat. he could have been a gentleman and opened the door for you, but he knew all too well that you didn’t want to be seen with him. you were young, untouched, naive, everything he hadn’t been in a long time, you were like fresh air to someone who hadn’t breathed in a long time.

he knew he couldn’t stay. he couldn’t let himself be enchanted by you, not when he had a fiancée. he was going to get married in a few months and his parents were counting on it, a good marriage, with a woman devoted to god who... didn’t know him, but liked what she saw for an hour or two a day. he never said he loved anyone, that said more about him than anything else could.

what could he do? he was always trying to be what he wasn’t, trying to be the version that pleased his parents—that pleased his father, as it should be. he had to be what his older brother wasn’t.

“escaping from the cops?” a nasal laugh escaped him as you sat next to him in the passenger seat. different from what he was used to, in a simple conversation you seemed to see him as he wanted to be seen, as a person beyond his faith.

“more like escaping from my family, but... yeah, almost like that.” a small smile appeared on your lips, but you hid it, looking forward as you buckled your seatbelt. then, your nose caught a whiff of a different smell, a smell you had smelled every now and then when your father was alone in the garage fixing the car. he wouldn’t let anyone in until he was done. your eyes curiously scanned around, stopping at the open pack of cigarettes on the dashboard. marlboro red.

despite the attention he kept on the road, he noticed where you were looking and took out a cigarette, placing it in front of you. “want one?” the second he offered, you quickly denied it and pushed his hand back a little with your index finger. “right, no damaged lung for you, i guess... that’s kinda nice of you.” it was a stupid joke, he didn’t talk like that around other people, but it was good to see when you tried to hide a smile or a laugh for something he said.

“it’s called healthy behavior.” you joked back and he could see how, slowly, you were letting him see beyond the expressions of boredom and silence that were characteristic of when you didn’t feel comfortable enough to say something. he had watched you before, several times, with caution, but curiosity and something else he didn’t dare to think about.

“healthy behavior, huh?” he agreed, but couldn’t help himself and ended up laughing while scratching his chin. you noticed that this was a recurring habit of his. “yeah, i’m sure you have a super healthy behavior... like, you stare at people, don’t smoke and eat all your veggies, that’s one way to put it, kid.”

kid. he called you that and probably, that was the first time you really paid attention to the fact that the two of you weren’t exactly close in age. 32, ten years age gap, it was almost funny to think about it—you barely talked to guys your own age, suddenly you were in the car of someone ten years older than you. but, there was nothing wrong with that, right? right? guys can be friends with girls too, even if you’ve been taught to think otherwise.

or, perhaps, being 22 didn’t mean you had the mind of a woman of that age when ignorance seemed to be a good thing. it means you’re still pure... and naive, and easy to manipulate or deceive, and easy not to question. stop. you sighed, but the smile on your face had already disappeared a few minutes ago.

“here we are.” his voice woke you from your brief trance of thoughts so fast that it was as if a billion tabs were open in your consciousness at the same time, almost like modern torture that you were responsible for doing to yourself. bob was no idiot, he noticed your silence and the change in expression as soon as he parked his car. “hey, are you okay?”

you licked your lips, staring at your fingers before turning your neck towards him and trying the best reassuring smile, which wasn’t always so reassuring. “yeah, i’m okay.” lying was a sin, so why did you still attend church knowing that you wouldn’t be saved in the end? no one was there really believing that they would.

bob nodded, but from the way his eyes lingered on you, there was something you weren’t telling him and he wasn’t going to try to make you say it, not now. “fine. i’ll ride you home later... i’m helping my dad with the church garden, but as soon as you’re done, let me know and we can go.”

you couldn’t say anything other than thank him in a low tone as you got out of his car and go into the church. everything was silent and clean, freshly cleaned, you could smell the cleaning products. the closest noise was outside, where you guessed the garden was, but the rest? just silence, a melancholy silence.

your eyes slowly landed on a painting of the last supper, right next to you. on the small table below it with an empty plate and a golden cup, you observed it and noticed small flaws in the painting. some colors and lines seemed different from the original work, but it was still harmonious in itself, the flaws made it something unique. “robert who painted it.” the female voice suddenly echoed behind you, you didn’t even hear her footsteps, or you were too focused to hear anything other than the beating of your heart. “i’m sorry, dear, did i scare you?”

“no, i... i was just looking at it, i’m fine, mrs. reynolds.” you answered her, but your heart was still racing as you stepped away from the painting on the wall to stand closer to the woman. mrs. reynolds was a good woman, always elegant and kind, you never heard anything shady about her and in a community where everything could be a reason, not hearing anything bad about someone was actually a good sign. “so... was it robert who painted it?”

he painted pictures. that was something, of course, he reproduced the painting of the last supper, but there was a touch of his own to it, like the subtle changes that he knew no one would notice if they didn’t look at it for a while.

“yes, he took art classes in high school and really enjoyed painting, it’s a shame he stopped. i always thought he had talent, but his father wanted to... change things a little.” she stopped talking quickly, giving a soft cough before touching your shoulder and turning you to face the opposite side of the painting. “come on, dear, you need to help me organize the choir for the weekend.”

god knows you didn’t want to think so much about what you knew before, but how could you not? honestly, you didn’t think a man like him would have such ease in being an artist. but, he was. a great artist, by the way, and this seemed to always be hidden by a thick layer of intimidation that he wore as if it were his favorite perfume. everyone had a different side to what they showed, his surprised you.

hearing what his mother said about him made you think that you didn’t know much beyond his name and who he was son of, that’s all. robert reynolds, the pastor’s son. he wasn’t just that, you could see it, even if you didn’t know what was beyond. you wanted to see everything, everything that was about him, no matter how dangerous and stupid it was, the fun was in the challenge.

“well, i think we’re done... thank you, sweetheart, you’re a great helper.” mrs. reynolds said as she placed the last piece of paper inside a black folder. each paper had the lyrics to the song the choir would sing next sunday, but you had to make changes—that’s why she needed your help, she wasn’t good at using the church printer and she could have asked anyone else for help, but why not you?

“it’s great to help you, mrs. reynolds.” your polite words made the woman smile. she spent most of her time thinking that she wished her youngest son had a wife like you, but benjamin seemed to care more about his video games than his responsibility to the church and god. you were too good for the boy and she, as a mother, recognized that.

at least, robert would have a good marriage, since his older brother was lost in sin and his younger brother... wouldn’t find anything steady any time soon. she was trying to settle for that.

“oh, before i forget... give your mom a hug for me and apologize to her for keeping you here for so long, she must be worried when you take time to get home.” yeah, sure... although you thought your mom appreciated it when you were away from her sometimes. “and go with god, my dear, may he protect you until you get home.”

she hugged you. despite the awkwardness, you hugged her back gently and forced a sweet, but confused smile, pulling away still uncertain of what had just happened. “amen, mrs. reynolds... uh, see you soon.”

as you walked out of the church, a thought came to your mind. you remembered that even that sweet lady had not been free from the rumors that always seemed to follow people around here—as you had previously thought. it had been a while, but you vaguely remembered hearing your mother and aunt talking about how mrs. reynolds had wanted a daughter, but never had one... so, three sons.

perhaps, this was directly linked to the affection she felt for you, which was strange, but curious at the same time. but, as for incessant thoughts, you already had enough, you didn’t need more.

for now, your task was just to look for bob, wherever in the garden he was, his car was still there, at least. the sooner you get home, the better. you’ll be able to distract yourself, avoid social interactions, and think a lot less. the problem was when things liked to... get drastically worse for you in the blink of an eye, this week was definitely not yours.

you felt a headache starting right in the center of your forehead, body going limp, legs feeling weaker as your hands began to shake. just walking started to be a difficult task, as if your head was way too heavy and your vision was too dark to see where you were going. oh, you didn’t have lunch, you didn’t have breakfast, not even the holy spirit could keep you on your feet when you didn’t do the bare minimum. surprising how you hadn’t passed out before.

you leaned against a wall and closed your eyes, stroking your forehead as you tried to stay calm, with a real fear that you would simply pass out right there—that’s when the strap of your bag slipped off and fell to the ground, the noise attracted bob’s attention who was approaching.

when he saw that it was you, he almost ran towards you and put one of his hands on your back, pulling you closer. “hey, hey... what are you feeling? are you feeling sick?” he immediately became concerned, starting to stroke your back with his eyes a little wide, waiting for you to say something quick. “you look pale as hell, come here.”

he pulled you even closer, using his fingers to lift your chin and make you look at him, trying to get you to answer him right away before he did something about it himself and carried you bridal style into the car. “i’m... i’m fine, just a little dizzy.” he almost laughed bitterly, not believing your answer for even a fraction of a second.

“have you noticed how many times you say you’re fine?” he arched an eyebrow, shaking his head. “and a little dizzy? your bag fell and you almost hit the ground with it. when was the last time you ate, girl?” great question, if you weren’t feeling sick you would have thought of a way to get away from it.

“i didn’t. the whole day.” bob’s eyes almost popped out of his head and it made you think he was going to give you a worse lecture than your parents could ever give you, but he just kept quiet and ran his fingers through his hair, still looking at you very seriously. his expression changed so quickly it was almost scary.

“to the car. now.” he just pointed to his own car and let go of you, letting you go while he bent down to pick up your bag from the ground. as soon as you got in and sat in the passenger seat, bob placed your bag on your lap and continued to look at you with that eyes. “the seatbelt.” he said before closing the door and walking around to get into the car.

you did what he said faster than you thought you would, following him with your eyes before he sat down in the driver’s seat and you shamefully looked away. the dizziness was still there, you still felt weak, but at least you were sitting up now and didn’t have to worry about fainting. however, the silence inside the car disappeared when you noticed that he didn’t take the same route he had taken to take you home before.

“where are we going?” your eyes flicked towards the window, looking the opposite way he was going—your mind already starting to race again as you shifted in your seat, practically trying to ignore your weakness.

“calm down,” bob was quick to answer you, placing a hand on your knee as he tried to make you look less restless. he was just trying to do something, or rather, trying to make sure you didn’t die. “i’m just taking you to eat something in the city. i’m not taking you home like this, your parents won’t like it.”

your parents won’t like it. your parents wouldn’t like any of this, not you in his car, not you talking to him, not you even getting close to him, but he wouldn’t know about it, just like your parents wouldn’t know about him. it wasn’t a dirty little secret, but it was a secret, a secret you agreed with yourself was best kept. modesty aside, you know you’ve become good at keeping secrets over the years.

“in the city? isn’t it... i don’t know, weird?” it wasn’t a loud question, you almost whispered as you stared at his hand on your knee, but he didn’t do anything to change that, in fact, his calloused fingers just tightened their grip a little more.

the silence lasted inside the car for a brief moment, until he took his hand off your knee as if nothing had happened. “is it weird that i don’t want you to die of malnutrition?” he could even pretend he didn’t, but you both knew why that felt weird. “just... relax, it’s not like people we know will see us together, it’s no big deal, actually, we’re fine.”

he was right, to a certain extent. there was nothing wrong with all this, but you still didn’t want people to see the two of you together... what if they talked about it? what if you became everything you were taught to fear? your chest hurt just thinking about it. so you shouldn’t think, not now. the city—or rather, its center—was far from where you lived, no one would see it, no one would know.

it was something so... small, but it seemed so big to someone who had never really had it. you won’t expect him to understand, nor did you understand.

he left you alone in the car when he went out to buy hot dogs at a stand near the lake. the town didn’t seem as quiet as your neighborhood, but it was calm, with bright lights almost blinding you and the loud noise of cars coming and going. you rested your head against the window, watching him as you thought he was trying to take care of you, in his own way.

bob couldn’t deny it, he had been very worried when he saw you like that earlier. you had to be an idiot to go a whole day without eating, believing that this could be even slightly positive when you literally simply forgot to eat. you could have fainted, hurt yourself, and so many other things that he avoided thinking about the possibilities.

nonchalantly, he walked back. carrying three hot dogs, he noticed the confusion on your face. “why three?”

“two are yours.” he pushed them towards you, almost as if it was obvious that they were for you. “what? you haven’t eaten all day, don’t tell me a hot dog will be enough. you better eat it all or i’ll throw you into the lake.” the small smile that appeared on her face made him smile too, but he quickly covered it up. “stop laughing, i’m serious!”

his fake anger only makes you laugh a little harder, biting into one of the hot dogs as you looked away towards the lake you could see through the windshield. “would you really throw me in the lake?” it was a little question just to tease you, though you can’t help but remember the nightmare you had. the lake and... everything else, it doesn’t matter anymore, you just got scared by it.

“if you don’t eat it all, yes.” he let his smirk show a little more as he sat down on the seat again, starting to eat his hot dog and letting the silence welcome the two of you.

the lake cut the city in half, you remembered walking with your parents around here when you were a child, but as you grew up, your parents moved to the rural side and consequently, walking along the lake became something that no longer happened. your sisters were babies, they needed care and you could understand that your parents’ attention was no longer yours.

there was a certain nostalgia there if you looked long enough, as if you could still hear and see perfectly a time in your life that you missed.

slowly, you finished your first hot dog and it wasn’t surprising, but he was right about one hot dog not being enough, even after devouring the first one, you were still hungry. a chuckle escaped him as he looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, he felt more relieved to see you eating like you should have done before.

“this lake seemed bigger when i was a kid.” bob grumbled, letting you know that you probably shared the same feeling when you looked at the lake, even though you hadn’t said anything about it, he could kind of tell on his own. “you know... my older brother used to bring me to ride my bike with him ’round here.” he laughed to himself. “that’s how i got my first broken bone... my left arm at eight.”

he was opening up, somehow, telling you something he didn’t usually show he missed. “my brother was so desperate that he cried more than me... afraid that our parents would freak out on him.” sweet memories for him, he kept each of these in a special place in his mind, trying not to forget them over the years.

you turned a little more towards him, curiously staring at him as he spoke so genuinely about it. “i don’t remember meeting your brother... i mean, not the older one.” your words made his smile grow a little weaker, he had to sigh, there were too many thoughts in his mind about the matter.

“yeah, he... left the city about seven years ago.” it was like seeing through the surface, the subject seemed complex to him and you would never force him to talk about it. but, bob still had a little bit of it stuck inside him, no matter how much he pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to disguise it. was still there when he slept, was still there when he woke up. “i think he moved to chicago... or something, it’s been a while since i last heard from him.”

the gears in your mind worked and you were able to understand that the relationship between his older brother and the rest of the family seemed troubled, so they all seemed to ignore his existence, but bob couldn’t do it, he secretly refused. he would never do anything his parents did to a son, it was just too late now.

“i see.” you said quietly, wrinkling the bridge of your nose as you finished eating your hot dog—you felt a little sorry for him, wondering what could be going through his mind.

he coughed, fingers stroking his chin in the way you’d seen before. “anyway... i’m gonna throw this trash away.” he started picking up the hot dog wrappers. “you can come with me if you want, we can take a look at the lake.” his offer was way too tempting when you noticed that you felt much better than before, of course you accepted, already getting up from your seat.

the breeze of the wind against your face made you sigh, opening your arms a little as if you were free, finally feeling free and it was... good, like eating too much ice cream on a hot day, was what you needed. you didn’t even know what you were thinking, but it felt good in your mind.

“don’t walk too fast... you might almost fall to the ground again.” he teased, tossing the wrappers into the nearest trash before shoving his hands in his pockets to walk beside you. “what happened to all that talk about this being weird, huh?”

the part near the lake was a little darker, probably because of the trees covering the streetlights, it was almost difficult to walk without tripping a little, so you ended up holding on his arm. he didn’t push you away, nor did he complain, he just kept you there. “it’s only weird if someone is watching us.” you answered him without much care, but you thought that perhaps you should have thought about your words better before... saying them out loud.

“it’s only weird if someone is watching us? damn, someone is getting bold with her words.” you were close, you could smell him when you were clinging to his arm. he smelled like his cigarettes, but it was a stronger smell than the one inside his car, you liked the way he smelled and the way it felt welcoming even when it shouldn’t be. the problem was probably with you, or him, or both, it was a matter of time until this question was answered.

it wasn’t that you were bold with words, you just... repeated what you thought you should. but if he thought you were bold, then maybe that could be a good thing, right?

“well... it’s getting late and i’m supposed to get you home safely. your parents will want my head.” he grumbled, staring at the lake, probably imagining that your parents really wanted to kill him for taking so long to bring you home. the point is: your parents didn’t know you were with him, even more so in the city center—you had created kinda a terrible situation to deal with.

you gently let go of his arm and moved a little closer to the edge of the lake, staring at the water as the noise of traffic seemed to be further away. “they won’t want your head,” anyone else wouldn’t tell and would let the story go, but why not tell him? you made it a secret, so he should know he was involved. “they don’t even know that you give me a ride or that i’m with you now. they won’t know, will they?”

he watched silently as you turned to him, staring at him as you said your words as if you were questioning whether or not he would tell your parents. bob didn’t want to get in the middle of your family relationship, if you didn’t tell them it was because you had a reason, he knew that better than anyone. “no,” he sighed. “but, that’s just one more reason for me to take you home now... or they’ll think about things i know you don’t want them to.”

and he was completely right. your parents couldn’t suspect that you were doing things you shouldn’t, your mother couldn’t.

you were inside his car again, the same thing, staring at the rearview as he drove back to the rural side. you heard him clear his throat to get your attention, but he spoke before you even had time to look at him. “i thought it’d be better not to ask, but...” bob didn’t know how to approach certain subjects, especially family ones. he didn’t talk about it comfortably most of the time, so he preferred to think it was the same for other people. “why didn’t you tell them about me? i mean, i'm just giving you rides... it’s no big deal.”

it was cute how he thought it didn’t mean anything when people would rather assume things of their own free will. “i get why you don’t want the neighbors to see us ��cause they’re such fuckin’ gossipers... but, your parents? they should know.” he didn’t want any trouble, but he was also worried about you and your reasons for not wanting to tell your parents something so simple.

this conversation wasn’t the kind of thing you enjoyed, it was the kind of conversation that made you feel a lump in your throat every time it started. “my dad maybe, but my mom? no way, you don’t know her.” you replied, not being able to look at him, just keeping your eyes on the road with an unhappy expression. “she’d make my life a living hell if she knew about this, ’cause nothing to her is truly innocent unless she decides it is. so, i won’t tell... and she won’t get the chance to treat me like i’m someone’s other woman.”

bob swallowed hard. he didn’t know it was like this for you. he figured there might be something more beneath the surface, but he didn’t realize you saw your own mother more as an enemy than a friend. once again, you had more similarities than he first imagined. “i’m sorry for... getting you into this, i guess.” he kept his eyes on the road like you were doing, he didn’t know the reason for the apology but he asked for it anyway, if he hadn’t offered the ride then you wouldn’t have had to lie.

“don’t apologize, bob.” you said almost immediately when he stopped at the red light. “i think you’re the last person who should apologize to me. that thing i feel everywhere... that heavy feeling in my chest disappears when you’re talking to me and i don’t know why, but it feels good. i like to be myself when i’m around you, so... you shouldn’t apologize for making me feel better.”

you couldn’t completely understand why you said all that so quickly, but you said it anyway, and you could see out of the corner of your eye how confused and surprised he was by it. “i...” bob didn’t know what to say to you, the words died on his tongue before he could just say them. but, he appreciated how vocal you were about how good he was doing for you, even though you had only spent a short time together.

“you don’t need to say anything.” you grumbled, he could feel that maybe silence was the best option now, not the bad silence, it was the comforting silence when you were really understanding each other without having to actually say something. he understood you, you understood him, one way or another, you chose to believe that there was some connection between you in this.

the silence lasted until you heard the car pulling up near your neighborhood, but not exactly there, not in the same place as before. he didn’t say anything for a moment, but you turned to look at him and he knew what you would ask. “wanna go to the city with me again? friday.” he asked, a little apprehensively but genuinely, you saw the way he was shaking his leg.

“bob... we shouldn’t,” you answered him immediately, but the look of “please” on his face almost made you forget what you had said. your voice trailed off, you just scratched the back of your neck and sighed, as if you were giving up. “fine. but, you know, no one can see us and... neither can my parents.”

he knew that, those were the rules you created for that and bob wanted to be close to you, he wasn’t going to deny that now, after what you said it made him realize that he felt the same way. “i know,” his leg stopped moving. “no one will see us, i promise.”

something in you told you not to do it, not to agree to just go out with him—because that’s what it was—he had a fiancée, but he hadn’t mentioned her, not once, as if he had forgotten her. you thought it was... something to think about, but you decided not to think about it, not so much.

“it’s okay.” you started to unbuckle your seatbelt, noticing how there was something in the air and it wasn’t exactly the smell of his cigarette that seemed stuck there.

“7pm, here. i think it’s safer here than... inside your neighborhood.” he had a point. within your neighborhood someone could see through the windows much more easily, now here... it was just dark, but not far, you could walk home and it would be as if nothing had happened. nothing had happened between you and him.

you thought about saying something but stopped, just nodding as you slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder to get out of the car. his eyes were on you and yours met his blue ones. how dangerous, you felt a chill in your stomach, something that shouldn’t be there, but suddenly it was.

his large hand reached your knee gently, squeezing it the same way he had done before and he leaned towards you. you should have moved away, but you didn’t, you stayed there, feeling his approach and enjoying it, enjoying the rush that surged through your body when he did it.

the tips of your noses touched, your breaths slowly mingled and you smelled that marlboro red scent again, his scent, the scent that meant him. a little more, a little closer, his lips touched yours in the gentlest way a touch could be, you closed your eyes and felt the sin, the best sin you ever committed, the one which made you feel good once again.

a kiss, just a little kiss, so quick you barely tasted it, but it was... reassuring, calming, real and you imagined it that way, he imagined it that way. that was a problem, you would drown in your own feelings, but he made you not want to think about it anymore.

to be continued...

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox, you’ll be welcome. ꒰ ˶> ˕ <˶ ꒱ ♡

©⠀𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐙𝐓, 2025.⠀don’t use my work without my consent.

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marsmaximoff · 5 months ago

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i’m begging you. namgyu x reader, it’s lights out and namgyu needs to relieve his stress, SMUT!!! but consensual duh

🌑; lights out * ✧₊☽⋆˚

content warning: fem!reader. smut. unprotected. exhibitionism. praise/degradation. light choking. fingers sucking. getting caught. cum swallowing.

word count: 1k

author's note: oh, anon, if only you knew the way i smiled when i read the request.... anyway, first time posting smut (you can tell), and can we talk about how fucking weird writing it is? i did what i could, also english is not my mother language so bare with me. im sorry y’all 😔😔

dividers by @cafekitsune and @strangergraphics <3

voting leaves the room plunged into an eerie environment. you lay awake, haunted by the hopeless souls, when some ruffling is heard and your bed sinks slightly. you don’t need to ask to know who it is.

“you good?” he doesn’t have to utter a single word to show his agitation. the sounds he lets out are proof enough.

“i can’t fucking fall asleep. those x motherfuckers are riling me up the wrong fucking way.” he scoffs while finally lying down. uneasiness is clearly staining his voice, and you know that tone; he’s on the edge.

“you high?” he snuggles closer to you, pressing his back to your chest before playfully whispering in your ear, “how’s that feel to you, baby? mhm?”, his hard-on against your lower back.

“fuck”

“exactly,” he purrs. “i’m desperate as fuck.” needy hands begin to roam all over your body. “and you’re gonna help me.” he leaves a sloppy kiss on your neck before rasping out, “right?” his fiery breath has goosebumps exploding on your skin alongside a certain pressure starting to arise on your belly. still, you’re surrounded by hundreds of strangers all piled up mere inches away. “can’t you get out and jerk it off?” his frisky laugh intensifies your arousal and you feel yourself getting hotter with every word he mutters. how can someone’s voice be so damn attractive? “why the hell would i do that when i have you right here? come on, be good for me.” his hands move underneath your shirt, and the dangerous mix of his alluring tone with the fire the physical contact is igniting on your back while he caresses it with his fingertips turns your brain into mush, making it almost impossible to stay sensible.

“shit, gyu. here? now?” you make an incredible effort to fight your lust, “shhhh. don’t you wanna help relieve my stress?” and he shatters all of it, sending your remaining clarity away.

“fuck, yes.” you turn around and immediately yank his face towards yours, finally tasting heaven-like relief. “good girl,” he pants against your lips. “you feel so much better.” the kiss is messy and hungry. desperate. like you need it to survive. and in a way, he does.

when your tongues make it too laborious to breathe, he pulls back with your lower lip caged in between his teeth. “why don’t you ride me a bit, mhmh? make me forget those assholes.” you don’t think ‘no’ could ever be a possible answer, not to him. so you nod, already craving that pleasure, and he quickly removes your green sweatpants. he doesn’t bother prepping you or even pulling your underwear down, tho, he’s way too gone for that. he simply grabs you by the hips and makes you sit on top of him. nothing else. the work is yours to do.

without hesitating, -you want this way too bad-, you take his reddish, stiff member out and give it a few strokes. he grunts and you can't take it, so pushing your panties to the side, you sink in.

“yeah, that's what i'm talking about.” he gasps, totally unconcerned about the circumstances, as always. who cares about the other players when your pussy is taking him so deep? you however, bite your lips to hold back a moan while moving up and down, following a leisurely rhythm, not wanting to get too carried away. although the speed doesn't really matter. he feels wonderful, and a few seconds are all he needs to have you seeing stars. “you're so wet, such a perfect slut for my dick.” you shiver at his praise and he chuckles, gripping your waist with such passion it hurts. but only because you have to suppress your burning satisfaction.

“ride me harder.” the sight of him lying back, talking to you like this with the way he’s staring, has you instinctively bucking your hips. the pace escalates, and you slowly let loose. the grinding turns into bouncing, whimpers become full moans, and you're both so fazed the bed screech accompanying your noises goes unnoticed.

you use his lean arms as support, gently tracing his perfect veins as a comfort gesture. “god, you’re so good…” your voice is groggy and strained. “i know.” you could get pissed at his overly confident attitude, but truth is you find it hot as fuck. he knows no one could make you feel like this.

“i- i’m- i’m sorry, could you please be quieter, if it’s not too much trouble?”

it takes you a moment to process what’s happening, your lewdness acting as a blinding veil, but namgyu answers for you.

“give me bullshit like that again and i’ll break your face, whore.”

the random woman is astonished as well as appalled. she apologizes again and seemingly leaves her bed, the footsteps dying out.

“fucking cunt. bothering me when i’m railing my girl...” he pushes you down and gives you a harsh kiss, the new position snapping you out of your trance. “what the fuck? ur still hard?” you ask through moans. “goddamn, if you knew how fucking good your pussy feels, you’d understand. ‘ts a damn drug.” at that, your walls clench, his sweet talk getting you every. single. time. and it motivates him to change positions, laying you on your side, as you were initially. but you're still a bit weirded out, and he notices. how could he not, with how well he knows your body?

“focus on me. don’t want you thinking ‘bout that or anything that isn’t me and the way i’m fucking you, got that?” his hand travels to your throat and adds a bit of pressure.

“yeah.”

his girth perfectly stretching you out turns off anything that's not his cock, his movements get harder and deeper due to the still present indignation. “i’m close, gyu…” you cry out, yearning for that release. “of course you are, with how fucking much you’re leaking,” those words only make it worse. “i think you were just as desperate as i was, huh? such a perfect nympho for me”, he groans, thrusting faster. your head lolls back, resting on his shoulder, his dick hits you with such precision it’s hard to even keep your eyes open. slender fingers climb up your skin and reach your lips, which you instantly part letting out a low moan. with that, he pushes them inside, pressing down your tongue. and you suck them with all you’ve got left, licking and slurping while he fucks you in both holes.

the double pleasure takes control over your body and you start to notice your shakiness. “gyu…” you babble, the capacity of forming full sentences is gone, not only because of his hand. “cum on my cock like a good girl, come on.” he demands against your neck, and your brain listens, as usual, sending throbs and contractions through your hips. your belly drops as if from a plane, he abandons your mouth eager to hear your falling over and you don't disappoint, squeezing his biceps while panting for air. “oh, fuck…” the aftershocks keep going while he pulls out, “damn, you drenched me” you’re not in your right mind to fully comprehend yet, “now, i don’t want it to go to waste, so you’re gonna swallow me up real good. yeah? not gonna drop any?” you answer by sticking out your tongue, and before you know it, the thick, salty, warm liquid fills your senses. you swallow and hear him sigh, relieved.

“shit, i’m spent. you’re such a good stress reliever.”

he falls asleep on your bed and ends up snuggling against you :3

❤️‍🔥 want more namgyu?

#namgyu x reader #namgyu smut #player 124 x reader #player 124 smut #namgyu x you #nam gyu #player 124 x you #player 124 #squid game smut #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game #spotify #roh jae won #roh jae won x reader #roh jae won x you

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gayraeofsun · 10 months ago

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i just really want to scream about this movie into the void because it was so well done, and i doubt anyone will really see this but i don't really have anyone i could have a deep discussion about this with.

trigger warning and spoiler warning ahead for the movie blink twice. content ahead discusses themes around sa, including r*pe, drugging, manipulation, and general physical/verbal abuse.

i don't keep up with any previews or recent movie releases much anymore, so i was going into this movie almost completely blind like i do with most new movies anymore. i had seen one preview, but it was apparently plain and simple enough for me to mostly forget about it. the irony in that will be made known a bit later on.

the movie automatically opens with a screen that displays a trigger warning, which is something that i had been seeing for the first time in any kind of visual media. normally these things are already listed by the ratings, but as a sa survivor who had no idea what this movie was going to be, it was a good thing to see so i could brace myself for what was to come. do i think this is necessary for any and every movie of this kind? no, it feels a little redundant (again, these things are typically included in the ratings). and, well, asking me to not watch if it would upset me is kind of a no deal, since i paid for a ticket and popcorn to see this on the big screen.

we're immediately introduced to our two main characters, two best friends, and it's hard to not immediately fall for their relationship with each other. so playful and silly and ridiculous, you can immediately tell they adore each other's company in their shitty job living in their shitty apartment, and you can tell that they're written by a woman who loves these characters and wants to portray them as relatable people. the interactions between the whole cast of girls, i think, was just outstandingly done. they felt realistic, not constantly shitting on each other and fighting for the attention of the men (though some jealousy of that fashion is still portrayed). they were all there enjoying the island and they ended up bonding together wonderfully. they were funny without being over-the-top rude or nasty or promiscuous, as is portrayed commonly in female characters in popular media. i can't and won't stop gushing over how much these characters felt just like real life girls that i was hanging out with.

this movie was really great at putting a pit in your stomach and slowly making it grow. of course, the trigger warning at the beginning spoils what's to come, so for me the pit was there from the start. any sensible person who's been socialized to be a woman will know, you don't ever just run away with some random ass group of men you don't know to the middle of nowhere with no cell service. but the little things that make the main character, frida, stop and question are so subtle, and so easily dismissed to start with. the used lip gloss in the drawer, the available clothes despite being an "unexpected" guest, the weird cleaning staff. but they increasingly get more odd. the island is full of venomous snakes and they all have to be killed on sight. something about these flirty interactions isn't quite right anymore, and he's talking about repressed memories. what day even is it? why am i always waking up with dirt under my nails?

who even knows or cares though, since we're all high and/or drunk 24/7. welcome to paradise!

it builds and builds until it begins to unravel, slowly and then all at once as the girls come to the realization of what happens to them every night when they get unbelievably high after dinner. the bond between the first two to piece it together was outstanding, and i love that there wasn't a cheap "find the phones and call authorities" plan. they worked out why that wouldn't work at all, because who would they believe? the "hysterical bitches" making claims without any kind of solid evidence, or the rich white man who's now a reformed soul and probably good friends with some of the cops?

the ending is not a happy one, in my eyes, though i believe it was probably supposed to be portrayed as one? two girls live and three girls die by the end. the ringmaster (ceo) of the whole thing ends up accidentally taking his own forgetfulness juice and suddenly doesn't understand what's going on and why all his friends are dead or have been otherwise brutalized. he knocks over lit candles and then trips and knocks himself out in his stupor, and the island burns down, the photographic evidence (that was later discovered) and all. i thought it was just going to end there and we would be left with the ambiguous ending, and that's never satisfying and feels very overdone anymore.

but instead, we're given a scene where our main character is now the ceo of the company, and legally married to the man who lured her away and horrifically abused her. twice. i interpreted this as her getting her own form of justice/revenge. i doubt she gives him half the treatment he gave her, but now she controls him and everything he owns and knew, and gets every bit of respect she wants. he killed her best friend and two other girls after overpowering the lot of them every single night. in a perfect world, he'd get tried and punished for his crimes legally. but all the evidence of it ever happening burned to the ground. so this is what she does to cope. in the final scene, she seems very satisfied, more than pleased to make her new husband's old crew squirm. she becomes the thing that destroyed her and so many others (but yk, most likely without the rapist cult).

one character i very suddenly grew interested in was the scrawniest boy in the group. he flies perfectly under the radar and doesn't appear in many of scenes that portray the gruesome sa. the one where he's in clear view, he appears to be another victim, trying to flee from one of the bigger men and receiving a black eye, which he would have no memory of getting the next morning. he's told by one of the girls that he smells nice, most likely referencing the perfume that was making them forget everything. it seemed very clear that he was in a victim role here as well, likely also being sa-ed. but he's never seen bound and gagged with the girls.

his final scene gets interesting when the ceo berates him for doing nothing to help the girls the entire time (yeah, the same ceo millionaire who's been basically orchestrating this whole sick fucking show in his perfect little getaway island). how he thinks there's a special place in hell for people who sit and do nothing in the face of evil. there are two very different ways to interpret this. 1) he wasn't actually getting drugged and abused with the girls, and was there as someone who didn't actively participate in abusing the girls, but also didn't do anything to try to stop it either. this could be blatant commentary on the two types of evil; while "not all men" r*pe and abuse people, not enough men will speak out against it or try to run to the victim's defense. or 2) the ceo was casting blame onto someone who was genuinely confused as to what was happening (which seems to ring true in both scenarios), and someone who was also a victim and stuck in a completely helpless situation. both could hold some level of truth, but ultimately i read him as the latter, thinking he was meant to represent the less common male victim. he gets killed by one of the girls, who wasn't specifically targeting him but also wasn't taking any chances, and that's the last we see of him. in my eyes he could either be read as the kind of evil that merely observes and therefore was rightfully murdered, or he could represent his male victims often get forgotten about or less acknowledged, which could speak as to why he was killed off so quickly never to be discussed again.

and i've gotta say, one thing i really appreciate about the scenes depicting r*pe is that it put a lot of the focus on the r*pists and not their victims. they were careful to not show any nudity or any shots of the women getting r*ped, but still showed them getting forced down when they tried to flee. i have not personally seen any other graphic scenes of this nature in other movies, but from what i hear a lot of it can get rather pornographic, and i feel like that's incredibly distasteful when you're trying to depict something that's absolutely vile. this movie does a great job of getting the absolute terror of the moment across without compromising any of the actresses by posing them seductively or showing off their bodies, and same goes for the men (if you don't count a couple of them being shirtless).

the writing is so wonderful, and the little clues as to what's happening beneath the surface are so good and plentiful. this is a movie that i don't think i'd ever be able to sit through again, but the sense of dread that continued to grow and grow will surely stick with me. it was very darkly funny in many places, which did great to break up some of the tension. for anyone who was able to stomach it, i would highly recommend watching through it once you're able. i think it was outstandingly well done and handled certain things as well as it could without watering any of it down.

#blink twice #reviews #tw: sa #tw: r*pe #tw: abuse #tw: drugs #tw: substance abuse #i went through the trouble of censoring the r word just in case #apologies if it throws off the vibe or comes off as immature or w/e

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vixstarria · 1 year ago

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Mark me as yours

This takes place immediately after and is interlinked with 'Missionary with the lights off' but from Astarion's rather than Tav's POV - check it out if you haven't already, the fics complement each other.

Soft sassy Astarion, F!Tav, Gale, minor appearances by other origin characters, Astarion POV

Fluff, humour, banter, pining, non-explicit sexual references

A day in camp in the life of Astarion. Features brooding, sewing, doing laundry, being dramatic, engaging in improper use of archmage of Waterdeep, reading erotica, and more!

Approx. 2,000 words

AO3

You frowned at the stuffed bear you held in your hands, weighing up your desire to showcase your skills against the absurdity of the task at hand.

The whole thing was coming apart and needed to be washed and restuffed if you were to do this properly. What was inside, anyway? Fur..? You supposed you could go hunt something furry. Or maybe save yourself the time and just give Scratch a quick partial shave, he wouldn’t mind – the mutt lying at your feet was stupid enough to like you. To prefer you over anyone else, in fact.

You reached down to give him a fond, absentminded pet.

And then there was the matter of not letting it burn to a crisp the moment Karlach touched it.

“Is there a flame ward enchantment on this..? Can you reapply it?” you asked Gale, who was nearby at his usual spot by the fire, concocting something edible for the rest of your group.

“There is and I sure can,” he replied.

Great. You had gotten yourself into a group project with the wizard to rescue a teddy bear.

“Don’t tell me this is what Wyll was so concerned about earlier...” Tav had finally made it out of your tent and sat down next to you, looking somewhat less disheveled than how you’d left her.

“The bag of holding finally tore. Naturally I was the only one competent enough to fix it.”

You gestured with your thumb towards a towering pile of assorted crap that Wyll and Lae’zel were still sifting through: Lae’zel inspecting and setting aside any weapons and armour she deemed worth keeping, and Wyll sorting through an array of scrolls and potions no one was ever going to use, or would forget were in your possession if the need for them ever did arise.

“Darling, this is your fault, you know,” you added. “Must you pick up everything?”

“Karlach made me do it. Also I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am prudence and sensibility personified,” she said.

“You’re uh... You’re also bleeding,” Gale said, pointing at her neck.

A trail of blood had started running down from the puncture wounds, which must have reopened.

Shit.

Before you could reason yourself out of it, your instincts kicked in and you pressed your mouth against her neck, licking the blood off. By the gods, she actually leaned into you as you did that, not away. You glimpsed a guilty, sheepish smile she threw at Gale, as you pulled away.

“Idiot... Here, apply pressure, I’ll get the amulet,” you said.

“I’m the idiot?! You’re the one who ran off to resolve a sewing emergency, like a good little seamstress, before sorting me out!”

You strode over to your tent, in part to grab the amulet of Silvanus, in part to discreetly tuck away the erection that had immediately started developing as soon as you tasted her blood.

Hells, am I 239 or 15? you thought, annoyed with yourself.

“An amulet? I was wondering why you’d stopped visiting me in the mornings...” you heard from Shadowheart.

“We have a system,” Tav replied.

“Clearly,” laughed Shadowheart.

A scene from the night sprung up in your mind as you went about your day:

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, half lying on you, her nose buried in your neck.

It was... nice. Really nice. And you didn’t think this bizarre scenario would ever happen again.

And yet, pleasant as it was, she still felt too far. You needed to feel her closer. Perhaps you were being greedy, but after all these years, why should you get anything less than exactly what you wanted?

Carefully, very carefully lest she stir awake and leave, you rolled over onto your side, holding her against you.

She was still asleep. Good...

You cautiously slipped lower and lower until your head was at her chest, delicately wrapping your arms around her torso.

Then she stirred.

Shit.

Without waking, she sighed, drawing you into a tight embrace, clutching you against her chest, complete with throwing a leg over your hips to pull you even closer.

You finally relaxed, your arms wrapped around her waist.

Perfect...

She felt so warm... She smelled of comfort.

You could indulge in this for the night. You would wake up before she did anyway.

You drifted away, lulled by the beating of her heart.

You didn’t have any nightmares that night.

“Is your boyfriend coming?” you heard Karlach somewhere in the distance.

You cringed at the juvenile term. Still, you were curious how she would answer.

“He’s on laundry duty,” she responded. “Just us gals today.”

“So your idea of doing washing is to pawn everything off to me,” said Gale.

“Vampires and running water, remember,” you said. “Also you don’t look like you’re exerting an awfully large amount of effort yourself... Although I must admit, this is ingenious.” A little flattery wouldn’t hurt.

Gale sat at a riverbank at a deeper section of the river. Some sheets and clothing were being tossed and spun in a small bubbling whirlpool within the water, together with foaming slivers of soap.

“Surely few archmages possess such finesse and creativity?” you continued.

Gale sighed and motioned for you to throw your bundle in as well, expanding the whirlpool.

“Just toss your shirt in too, it's splattered with blood,” Gale added wearily.

Her scent lingered on it. The last thing you wanted was to wash it off.

You pulled the shirt over your head and hurled it into the whirlpool.

“Not Tav’s creative nailwork, I presume..?” Gale asked with a wince, looking at your back.

“Nope” was all you said, as you pulled a book out from your pocket, making yourself comfortable on the bank. To his credit, the wizard did not probe further.

‘Mark me as yours’

Those words had been echoing in your mind over and over all day.

It couldn’t have meant anything.

A little expression of some vampire fetishism finally poking through – you shouldn’t have expected any different from her, she did offer you her blood consistently, not even asking for anything in return.

Still, you’d felt like something inside you might burst from your desire and thrill when you heard those words.

And then everything that followed after...

You had actually lost yourself for a short while. Not dissociated and detached. Lost yourself. In bliss. In the scent of her skin, in the sounds of her need for you, in the sensation of her blood merging with yours and flowing through your veins.

And now she was walking around somewhere, with telltale bitemarks on her neck for all the world to see. Scandalous...

No, it couldn’t have meant anything.

‘Mark me as yours’

Still... What a pleasant little fantasy...

‘Yours’

“You’ve been smiling at that page for ten minutes straight now,” Gale’s voice snapped you out of your musings.

“It’s my favourite page,” you retorted.

“What’s it about?” he asked snidely after a short pause.

“I have no idea,” you confessed, begrudgingly, snapping the book shut. If the wizard knew what was best for him, he would abstain from any further comments.

“She’s quite fond of you,” Gale said sombrely after another pause.

“Is this about to turn into one of those ‘You break her heart – I'll break your face’ talks?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Oh gods no,” Gale laughed. "No, I would go straight to incineration... You just strike me as the type that needs to have the obvious spelled out for them.”

“I am not entering this type of discourse with someone who’s presently washing my spend off my bed sheets,” you said, laying back and shutting your eyes, to bask in the sun. No answer followed.

Not even a minute had passed when a shadow fell over you.

Odd, you thought. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky.

You opened your eyes to see a giant water bubble hovering a few meters above you. Was that... a bedsheet floating in the middle..?

Worth it, you thought just as the undulating bubble spilt and crashed over you.

You coughed and spat, trying to untangle yourself from the sheet, as the unleashed torrent nearly swept you off the bank. And yet, above all else, you found yourself curious.

The water had no longer been running as part of the river, true, but given its sheer volume and the velocity at which it hit you, it should have hurt more than merely your pride.

You made it to the edge of the bank, and cautiously dipped a finger in.

Nothing...

You proceeded to submerge your hand, then your entire forearm, to your elbow.

Nothing.

Of all things... Why this? Why not your reflection? Why not the blood craving? Oh well. Beggars, choosers...

You were laughing.

“This tadpole,” you turned and shouted at Gale, unabashedly stripping yourself of your pants, as Gale turned away, muttering something about going blind, “is the best thing that’s happened to me in centuries!”

The best? Maybe second best? It had some tight competition, but you supposed nothing would have been possible without it, so it reigned supreme.

You leaped into the river, diving and letting the gentle current carry you downstream for a while.

You knew what you would be doing later that evening with her.

“What have you got there?”

She slid onto your lap like a cat that refused to take ‘no’ for an answer as it sought attention. You had been idling away your time by your tent, with some pulp you had picked up earlier. The rest of the group had been drinking and roasting something at the campfire.

“Trash. Disappointingly boring trash, this time,” you answered.

“No pulsating flesh tunnels in this one?”

“Alas... There were not one but two mentions of ‘velvet-wrapped steel’ however, and plenty of ‘sword-sheathing’.”

“To the hilt?”

“Is there any other way?”

“Wouldn’t want to sheathe it only partially, I suppose...” she mused. “Come join us. We found some half-decent wine. And you don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.”

“Spare me, I’ve had enough of Gale’s lectures and Wyll’s tales for the day. And besides, ugh, all those chewing noises!” You made a gagging sound.

None of them want me there.

“Oh don’t be such a delicate princess,” she rolled her eyes. “How’s this: it’s our joint meal time. It would be rude and completely unfair to exclude anyone. You should sit down with everyone, bite down on my wrist and make a great deal of slurping.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Delightful. Simply delightful.

“It will be funny!”

“I fear you might be the only one laughing, darling.”

That is hilarious, I can just imagine Gale squealing or getting sick.

“Is there anyone else you’d care to make laugh?” she asked with a slight upturn of her lips.

Not in the least.

“I could die again knowing I have accomplished something if I ever make Lae’zel laugh. But perish the thought – I am perfectly happy right here with my literature.”

“Well, if you don’t want to join the group, perhaps I will stay and you can...” She snatched the book from your hands and tossed it aside, leaning in and bringing her lips up to your ear. “...Release your kraken in my field of rose petals,” she purred in a sultry voice.

“Stop,” you choked back a snicker.

“Get tangled up in my beef curtains?” she continued with the same tone.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Sink your meat shaft in my cream tart!” she persevered.

“By the gods, woman, I am never having sex with your again.”

“Suckle the nectar from my weeping core!”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go, anything is better than this.” You got up, pushing her off your lap.

“Taste my forbidden, oozing fruit, Astarion!” she cried out from the ground behind you as you covered your ears and shouted “LALALALA”, making your way towards the campfire.

You would endure the prattle of your companions.

Then you would take her for a moonlit swim in the river.

Then you would see if she might spend the whole night in your arms again.

Perhaps she could sleep in your shirt and leave her scent on it again – it was foolish to sleep completely in the nude out in the wild after all, what if there were intruders?

Everything was going according to plan, you reminded yourself.

~~~~~

Next in series - Down by the river

Series master list

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

Also @spacebarbarianweird - you haven't asked for a tag but sounded interested

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion POV #gale dekarios #bloodweave more like beefwave #archmage of waterdeep as a washing machine #the narrator may be somewhat unreliable #reflections on author's own inventory management

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goldbug127 · 7 months ago

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Apologies in advance for a long post!

Okay, so I'm watching Transformers Prime for the first time and I just finished the amnesia episodes.

Naturally, I have thoughts. My main one being:

This version of Orion Pax is as feral and all over the place as TF One Orion Pax!!!

HE'S JUST QUIETER ABOUT IT!

Ok first of all, obviously we don't see a lot of this Orion and 75% of the time he's just tryna figure out where he is and what's happening but I believe there's enough there to comment on.

Onto the first scene I want to talk about!

Orion Pax has just been told that his entire home planet has been destroyed, by someone he knew no less. His reaction is one we would all expect from a soldier. Clenching his fist, promising to stop Ratchet, "this I vow with all my spark", etc. etc. BUT we forget, this guy thinks he is an archivist. As far as he's aware, this guy has never fought anyone before plus, we know from later that he doesn't even know he has weapons. And sure he may not explicitly say he plans to fight anyone but, as I said, he's an archivist, his little speech was someone with a big vocabulary's version of "it's on sight if I meet this guy!"

The next scene I would like to talk about is when Arcee manages to get aboard the decepticon ship. Orion is peacefully working on his computer when he starts hearing blaster fire outside the room! What we would most likely expect a calm, sensible archivist to do is, I don't know, ask what's going on? call for help? alert some security? hide? any other number of things that wouldn't put him in immediate and potentially life threatening danger? yes, that would be logical wouldn't it? but Orion? he decides the next obvious step is to walk out into the hallway into what he must assume is an active shooting situation. Then, after being told by a guard to return to his room to be safe, he thinks about it for a moment and then continues to go out of his way to look for the source of the commotion! While knowingly disobeying what he's been told are Megatron's direct orders! He's crazy!!

I also want to talk about how Orion reacts once he starts to become suspicious of Megatron. In the scene right after being confronted by Starscream and the scene later on when Megatron asks him about his progress, Orion Pax, now very sure that the decepticon could be dangerous, decides to lie directly to his face. I would also like to point out that, after one of these scenes, Megatron says that he has never been good at lying. Orion Pax has NEVER been good at lying, meaning that Megatron has seen Orion try to lie before. I don't even know why an archivist would need to lie but apparently he finds way to get in trouble enough that he does so frequently.

Adding on to this point - after Orion finds out he has guns (and realises he can absolutely obliterate others with a few shots (something our sweet historian should have probably been more concerned about)), this GUY decides to MARCH through the ground bridge!! find MEGATRON!!!! (aka the former gladiator and current head decepticon) AND THREATEN HIM!!?!!!?! Threaten him, no less, WITHOUT USING THE GUNS HE JUST DISCOVERED HE HAD! Orion decides to fight the LITERAL TANK using glorified knives. Naturally, Megatron wipes the floor with him in less than three seconds but the fact that he even tried is insane!!

Anyway, I'll probably think of more when I've had more time to think but that's all for now.

Orion is a mad lad in every iteration.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk,

you're welcome,

I need sleep.

#transformers one #transformers prime #orion pax #megatron #optimus prime #tfp megatron #tfp orion pax

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sideysvault · 6 months ago

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୭ ˚. HOTD; SINGE PARENT AU ₊

The guardian ₊@hotd2025bingo ₊

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

wc: 1019k

tags: [sfw] fluffy, single parenting struggles, sweet, canon divergence, light mentions of mental disability and grief, multi character.

────────

₊ Helaena Targaryen ₊

She was known to be extremely pleasant and to always be on a good humor. Naturally, everyone could immediately agree that she would make a splendid mother. But Halaena? She wasn’t so sure about it.

Most days, the Queen was afraid. Despite what everyone thought, she really could tell that she was different.

She noticed the awkward, long pauses. She noticed the looks, the contained gasps. And it wasn’t the visions. At least, not exclusively. It was something else, something that went far beyond the prophecies.

And while Halaena loved her queer mind and truly enjoyed spending time with herself, she couldn’t help but wonder if it would ultimately be detrimental when raising her children. Will she be strong enough to endure the difficult challenge of parenting all on her own? Would her sensible and melancholic disposition keep her from being a strong, reliable figure?

When the kid's father died, she did not fall into depression. It was what was expected of a widow, but she knew that the right to mourn her life as a wife would always come after her children’s needs and safety.

It turns out, her oddities only made her children love her more. She would tell them stories, share with them her love for the natural world, decorate their clothing with intricate embroidered patterns, and, above else, protect them from the violence of the Red Keep, trying to teach them to be different than herself, than her family, to be kinder, sweeter, more considerate.

₊ Aegon Targaryen ₊

Initially, Aegon did not take much care of his children. It was mainly due to viewing himself as nothing more than a coward. Poison drips through, doesn’t it? And who is more filled with it than Aegon? Who was drowning in it for as long as he could remember?

When he became a single parent, however, something Inside of him whispered that he had to step up to the situation. As Aegon suspected, he discovered that they were genuinely sweet kids. This confused him to no end. After all, isn’t it true that half of them came from him? How could they be so pure? So happy?

Once he is forced to grapple with this incorruptible innocence, he promises to the Gods to prepare them for not only absolute greatness, but for their tenderness and joyfulness to be preserved throughout their time on this earth.

₊ Jacaerys Velaryon ₊

Jacaerys, always the faithful, devoted husband, was destined to become the sweetest father ever.

Now that he was on his own, some days, especially on the quiet ones, he couldn’t help but feel a little pain while watching his kids. They would repeat the same mannerisms their mother had, or say something exactly the way she used to. Sometimes, for a flash of a second, he could’ve sworn that they looked like his younger brother.

The only thing he wants is to guarantee that his children get to live the life that their mom and his brother deserve to have. He spoils them rotten with hugs, gifts and desserts, yes. But he always keeps in mind that a good parent needs to provide balance. So he tries to teach them the importance of honor and duty early on.

₊ Rhaenyra Targaryen ₊

When she was younger, she viewed motherhood as a prison, nothing more than becoming a birthing machine, she swore to never end up like her mother, like Alicent.

But now that she has them? They are all that matters to her. While it’s true, she can get tangled in the bureaucracy of ruling and strategy making, Nyra would never forget that she is the only one her kids have now.

She is a strong believer in their autonomy, so she spends a lot of time talking to them, truly trying to understand who they are as little people. She tells them stories of old Valyria. And, when they are old enough, she takes them on her rides.

Despite the lack of understanding, the busy schedule, and whatever her family needs to face, there is nothing that Rhaenyra treasures more than having the privilege to ride and see beautiful sceneries, to feel the wind on her face, with her children by her side. Their smiles could paint the most impressive of skies into mere secondary spectacles.

₊ Aemond Targaryen ₊

He never thought he would be the one to have a child. A liability, he thought. An ego project.

Aemond grew up seeing his mother, how hard she tried to please her children and how terribly her relationship with them had turned. It was all in vane. He saw how his siblings' offspring weren’t particularly fond of them, how, too busy with Westero’s constant struggle, they got relegated to a nuisance.

But the truth is, that he was scared of not being lovable enough, good enough, to be a parent.

Although, when he had to deal with raising his child alone, it was like being struck by a flash of lightning. Now suddenly awake and infinitely committed, his parenting skills flourished like they had always been there, dormant.

Everyone at court could notice how dear his little girl was to him. Whispers of surprise initially ensued when they saw how, the cold, one-eyed prince openly he hugs and comforts his daughter in front of other 'king's men, his family notices how much he dreads telling his baby any hard news because he simply cannot stand that look on her face, and how hard he fights to keep his daughter's life a safe and a happy one.

He could, on occasion, become overly protective of her. Paranoia followed him around, plaguing his thoughts, poisoning his mind. Especially when his daughter reached the age in which he was mutilated. The Prince often fights against these impulses, wanting her to enjoy her infancy.

When she grows old, all he wants is for her to grow healthily, to stop the cruelty of adulthood from keeping her from knowing how much she was truly loved, and how much faith he has in her future.

Aemond tries strenuously hard to never make the same mistakes his parents did with him.

────────

Notes: another one while I still have the time 🙏

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rainbowsillz · 2 years ago

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“ Dating? As if they would let this continue on.. ”

Warnings: Possessiveness, toxic relationship, blood mentioned.

***

⤷ Summary: A story where you fell for another individual. They have been pining for you in months and yet you went ahead on and chose someone else?

RIDDLE will not have this. He reckoned himself as a sensible, humble, model student in this fine college. That so-called-impertinence of yours, he'll skin it out, if it's a freshman under his rule? He will make it a living hell, and he won't forget about you either! Did you think he's merciful? Correct that thought immediately because the queen isn't magnanimous. His staff marred with a deep shade of red liquid, his frigid gaze swept at the motionless form beside his feet, not bothering to look down for any longer. He knows you're watching, so pay close attention to it.

LEONA laughed at the absurdity. Are you asking him to get rid of a pesky rival for you? If yes, that 'darling' of yours will disappear very soon by the end of the day. He wouldn't hesitate to erase the source of his troubles, and besides what can the headmaster try with him, huh? It wasn't as if that bird man took anything firmly, not like he gives a crap to those pitiful morons in here. The moment he laid eyes on you, it's inevitable, you should admit it. Humans can adapt, no matter in any direction or circumstances. So let him spell it out for you. You are his, you belong to him.

AZUL was undeniably devastated. So he wasn't enough for you? Why not him? How could you?! If he can't have you, no one will. He can guarantee that fact. When he's anguished, it eventually manifests into peevishness, he won't kill the said lad, no, he can do a lot more than that. With pulling a few strings behind the scenes, you'll be crawling to him in no time and imploring him to stop whatever plotting he has with your lover, and he can! It's remarkable truly— to the things he would go for you. For your precious signature that is. And don't keep him waiting for you.

KALIM was clearly saddened by it. You broke him. Unfortunately for you, that has him more determined than ever. The lines he tread were condemnable, wicked, it mortified him that he will use a tactic on you. He doesn't want to openly harm a normal member in Scarabia. That is in his dormitory, no more, no less. Coercion won't be ideal when it comes to inducement with you. He has that beloved of yours missed the events, dates, and several more meetings with you. You'll be fed up from this, no matter what logical excuses your partner has for you. Then you'll pick him.

#twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst x you #twst x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twst riddle x reader #twst leona x reader #twst azul x reader #twst kalim x reader #twst prompts #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yancore #gender neutral reader #etihw.writes

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 2 months ago

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Ginger Me This

This is an entry for @corrodedcoffinfest's May Mayhem Bingo.

Ao3 link

So one night, I was just chilling, wondering when my inspiration for the True Hate's Kiss prompt would come home from the war.

Then @fkinkindagauche messaged me about figging.

So here it is. Everyone please give Gauche a big thank you and go check out their fic PANDO for more deranged freak4freak action (but in a classy way, not in a silly way like in this fic).

And not to get too heavy, but I feel so down on humanity a lot of times. But then someone reminds me that there's so many cool freaks out there doing deranged shit I wouldn't even have thought of, and I love that about us.

Explicit under the cut. Minors please DNI!

divider by @/saradika-graphics

Let the record show that Eddie Munson did not come into this world to make sensible choices. No. He came into this world to be a freaky little freak and make the world more entertaining.

"Are you… sure about this?" Steve asks, chewing his lips. His gloved fingers wrap and unwrap around the piece of ginger they cut, the one with a nice big flared base.

"No, obviously not," Eddie quips.

"Oh, cool so then we can just forget this," Steve says, relieved, moving to put the ginger away.

"No! I mean I'm not sure about this, but I still want to do it!" Eddie says, flinging himself at Steve. He's buck naked. Steve is fully clothed. Steve goes down with a surprised grunt when Eddie miscalculates and leaps at him with a little too much force. They lay tangled on the bed, laughing, panting, while Steve clutches the flared little ginger like his life depends on it.

"Ok, but like… I want to warm you up first man," Steve says, shaking his head.

"Oh you're certainly going to warm me up, daddy," Eddie says, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve laughs hysterically, more out of nerves than anything, then gently sets the ginger aside on a metal tray that he'd carefully disinfected.

"Down," Steve says, eyes dark.

Eddie bites down an excited, embarrassing squeal that still manages to leak out of him like a deranged kettle and gets down on all fours, ass out, head to the pillow. He waggles his ass just a little bit, to present himself. Steve wolf whistles and gives him a little spank.

Then another. And another. And another. Harder and harder, faster and faster until Eddie gasping and wiggling. He wants to be good, so he keeps himself in place, even though every muscle in his body is screaming to be allowed to relax, to melt into the bed.

"How many was that Eddie?" Steve asks, panting.

They've done this enough that Eddie can clearly picture his face, how Steve's hair would be falling elegantly into his eyes, how glossy his lips would be from licking it, how blown out and wide and dark his eyes would be. Jesus H Christ, just imagining it is nearly enough to make him blow his load.

He won't though. Because he's good.

"Errmm… fifty five?" Eddie guesses, because he's supposed to keep count but he always forgets.

"Wrong," Steve snaps. There's a rough hand at his balls, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until Eddie is shaking and gasping and crying in pain.

"Ready to actually count this time?" Steve asks, leaning right up to Eddie's ears.

"Yes, but also, yellow," Eddie whispers. Steve climbs on the bed right up to his face immediately. Gentle, loving hands cup his jaws.

"Of course love, everything ok?" Steve asks.

"Oh yeah, yeah, it's all fine," Eddie says with a grin. It makes his lips sting a little. He'd chewed clean through them. But honestly, the pain is just hot. "But I'd like to see your face please, for the figging."

"I'm just worried you'll associate my face with the horrible burn in your ass," Steve says laughing nervously.

"It'll be a horrible fun burn in my ass Stevie," Eddie says, batting his lashes.

"Ugh, alright, you weird goblin. On your back," Steve says. His face shifts again. Even his voice. His posture. More confident, smooth, predatory, with eyes for no one but Eddie and only Eddie.

It's hot. He's very lucky. Eddie gets on his back and spreads out into his default position, legs wide apart, arms above his head, to give Steve as much access as possible. Steve leans back and looks, eyes gleaming, slowly lavishing every inch of Eddie's mangled, scarred body. Eddie preens.

"Stay in that position," Steve says, then he disappears to the kitchen. It's a studio apartment with nowhere to hide (a real test to their relationship honestly) so Eddie can see Steve rummaging around the fridge. He comes back with a bowl of ice and a towel. He puts the towel and the ice-cold bowl on Eddie's stomach with no warning. Eddie yelps, feels his muscles flex and clench. It's so cold and so heavy and so sudden.

"Stay," Steve barks.

Eddie nods and shakes.

"Good, so good for me," Steve says, smiling. He strokes long, elegant fingers up and down Eddie's side, along the nail bat wyvern weaving in and out amongst the demobat scars. Steve plucks an ice from the bowl. Eddie burns to sit up a little, to track the movement of the ice because he can't see over this stupid large bowl. But Steve told him to stay, so he stays. Steve told him to take, so he takes the sudden shock of the ice cube getting pressed right against his rims.

"Ahh—" Eddie moans. Steve gently pats his head, murmuring sweet nothings even as he continues to press ice chips into other sensitive parts of his body, until Eddie is floating away, buttressed by the ecstatic pain. At some point, Steve switches to cold lube and ice water and fingers on his ass with only the occasional ice, and that's beautiful too. Everything is. With Steve.

"Ok, I think you're wet enough for the main event," Steve says, after he's squirted what feels like a gallon of lube up Eddie's ass.

"Bring it on," Eddie quips.

Steve switches out gloves and grabs the piece of ginger, which had been sitting on the disinfected metal tray all this time, innocently watching. Eddie tries to breath in and out, in and out. He's well prepped. He's relaxed. He wants to try this.

And honestly, at first, it's a little disappointing. The ice was more of a shock. The biggest piece of ginger they found is still pretty small, only as thick as two of Steve's fingers. Steve makes up for the lack of sensation by swallowing Eddie's dick in his mouth with no warning and Eddie whines and gasps and begs Steve to take the bowl of ice off his stomach so he could see how hot Steve looks with his mouth full of cock.

Then the burn hits.

And man, it's a hell of a burn. It's like the ginger had a grudge, so it snuck into his asshole's bedchambers under false pretenses, waited until his asshole let down its guard, pulled it into a passionate kiss then stabbed it.

Because that's how this feels. The ginger is stabbing him ass with fire.

Eddie yelps and twists and so hard he actually knocks the big bowl of ice water off himself onto the bed and everywhere on the floor. Steve practically spits Eddie's dick out of his mouth and yanks the ginger out.

Which doesn't help at all. Eddie writhes and gasps and moans and remembers a key thing about figging about ten minutes too late. The ginger oil. It settles. That's what burns. The oil getting absorbed up the rectum.

Steve is frantically carrying him to the bathroom, bridal style, heedless of the ice water dripping off from Eddie's stomach onto his shirt. Eddie leans into Steve's vice-like grip on his torso and nuzzles in, trying to breathe through the burning in his asshole.

And all of a sudden this is all really funny. Eddie cracks up, laughing so hard through tears that even he can't really tell if he's laughing or hyperventilating.

"Eddie, Eddie you'll be alright ok? I'm going to wipe that off you—"

"Can't… wash… out oil—" Eddie manages to gasp out between laughter.

"So we just…gotta wait? Maybe I can push milk up your ass or something?" Steve asks, horrified, "wait, wait, let me call Dustin."

"No!" Eddie wails. The burning is still bad, but he's starting to get used to it. And honestly, he'd rather stuff the ginger up his ass again then have to call Dustin and ask him how to get ginger oil out of his rectum. He wraps all limbs around Steve and squeezes tight. "Just…hold me through the pain. Baby me."

"And that'll make it better?" Steve asks, sounding a little less frantic, and just a little bit amused.

"You always do," Eddie sighs.

#steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington #zooms writes

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kinglivv · 1 year ago

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One Bed

Kate Lethbridge-Stewart x Reader

Summary: Being Kate Stewart’s personal protection was a job full of challenges - aliens, monsters, the supernatural. But none as big as finding yourself in a hotel with her… and only one bed.

Warnings: Implied PTSD

A/N: Realised I’ve never done this trope so rectified that immediately! Also, first time writing for Kate - what do you think?

You couldn’t believe it.

It was classic. You couldn’t write it. One bed, one room, you and Katherine fucking Lethbridge-Stewart.

It was a work trip. Travelling out to Belarus to look at some potential satellite launch sites. UNIT was still regrouping after it’s recent Brexit dissolution, and your commander was desperate to begin scraping back that hard power. Seemingly pointless trips like these had become the norm in the absence of anything existential such as the Flux.

The trip had been last minute. You knew you were going to share a room with Kate - a product of budget cuts and a HQ concerned that as her protection detail in a hostile country, the room next door wasn’t close enough. The hotel however, had apparently royally screwed up by giving you a double instead of a twin.

“Right,” Kate said in a matter of fact tone. You both stand in the doorway, suitcases in hand, clutching yours like a rubber ring on a sinking ship. It feels like a dangerous threshold between sensibility - your job, your boss, your professional relationship - and something else unwritten.

“There’s obviously been a mix up,” she states.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, “I’ll go down to reception, get it sorted?”

She looks at you. Her hand clasps and unclasps her suitcase handle.

“You could… But I mean, it’s fine. Right?” She says, “It’s the middle of the night, we’ve just been travelling 12 hours. If you’re not bothered, I’m not.”

You take a breath. She had a point. It wasn’t a big deal - two grown adults just sharing a bed on a business trip.

“Alright ma’am,” you agree, “it’s only one night either way.”

“Great,” she musters, and powers on into the room.

It is alright, you tell yourself. It was just Kate. Your boss. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to being glued to her side. That was what you were paid for - her personal protection. You were one of her “strays” as the office called it. One of her impulsive job offers. You’d been a mere police officer in the right place at the right time, when in the middle of an alien incursion, you’d knocked her out the way of a deadly bullet, almost getting hit in the process. She’d quickly made it her business to know everything of use about you; did you go to the gym a lot? How many languages did you speak? Were you satisfied with your job?

Upon finding you had the reflexes of a cat and couldn’t stand the police, you were hired.

You’d been by her side ever since. Everyday in the office, the occasional night shift, the odd weekend at her house in the country. It was fairly mundane work, lurking in the shadows and watching her every step, but you’d quickly learned that there wasn’t much downside to being paid to stare at Kate Stewart all day.

Back in the present, you find that co-existing with her in such close quarters is fairly uneventful. She takes a couple calls, does her emails. She showers and changes into checkered pyjamas. She asks after your dog and you ask after her kids. You go over the car’s planned route for tomorrow and at 11 o’clock it’s lights out. You curl up as close to the edge of the bed as you can get and try to ignore the smell of her fruity shampoo.

You wake to the sound of a muffled groan.

It’s pitch dark and hot. At first you jump, forgetting that you’re in a shared bed and you feel like duvet shift slightly. Then again - a groan. Followed by mumbles - scared mumbles.

You sit up to look at Kate. She’s a dark silhouette, but you can make out her tossing against the sheets. She’s having a nightmare, you realise.

Roll over, a part of you thinks. Spare her the embarrassment. But it’s difficult to listen to. Your heart twinges for her as her brow furrows in anxiety over imagined monsters.

You were her protection - it was your job to protect her.

“Commander,” you whisper gently, reaching out for her shoulder, and then more firmly, “Commander!”

Brown eyes snap open as she’s wrenched out of her nightmare and back into reality. She all but jumps away from you, narrowly avoiding falling out of the bed.

“You were having a nightmare,” you pull your hand away as she frantically wipes away tears and catches her breath.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you respond softly, “I get them too. More often than I’d like to admit.”

“I - um. Sorry,” she repeats, shifting to prop herself up against the pillows, and it’s only then that you realise how close you are and how wildly inappropriate this is, “I woke you didn’t I?”

“It’s alright,” you say firmly, “Can I… ask what it was? I don’t know - sometimes it helps me when I get them. To talk.”

“Oh,” she says dismissively, “just… you know. Sutekh stuff. The usual really.”

Your face falls. You felt a lot of guilt about that day. Seeing your death approaching and being able to do nothing about it. Watching her crumble to dust seconds before you did. You had failed her in that moment.

“Kate-“ you try to say but it chokes in your throat slightly. “I never apologised for that day.”

She frowns at you through the dark. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t do my job properly that day,” you state, as if it’s obvious. “I should have been quicker. Done something. You died - as your assigned protection I literally can’t have cocked it up any moreso.”

“Cocked it up?” She repeats with a sort of sad myrth. “Darling, a god of death appeared in our office. The bloody Doctor couldn’t prevent it and you certainly couldn’t have done anything. You died seconds later, I seem to recall learning.”

You blink back tears and look away, picking the duvet pooled around your waist. She’d called you darling. You’d called her Kate. Uncharted territory.

“Have you been blaming yourself for my death all this time?” She asks quietly. Her hand reaches out, cups the side of your face, forcing you to make eye contact with her. Her touch is electric.

You nod silently against her palm.

“Darling,” she whispers again, and God you could die happy hearing her say that. “It’s not your fault,” she murmers. She’s closer now, leaning in, “it’s not your fault.” She whispers against your lips and then you’re kissing her.

It’s soft and cautious, and your mind goes black for a minute as you try to process the fact that all your fantasies are coming true at once. She breaks the kiss - perhaps to mentally list through all of the protocols and policies she’s currently breaking, perhaps just to catch her breath - and you stare at her dumbly, mouth open like a fish and tears drying quickly.

“Sorry,” she rambles hurriedly, “that was unprofessional. Was that alright? I can’t bear the thought of you carrying that guilt when -“

You lean in again and this time the desire hits you like a wave, taking everything within you to keep it at bay. There’s a sigh and her hand sneaks into your hair, the other fighting off the duvet tangled around her legs to get as close to you as possible. You slip a hand under the hem of her pyjama shirt to find hot, smooth skins and you moan into her mouth.

The noise seems to bring you back to yourself and the tension in the room snaps, reality flooding back in. The kiss breaks and she stares at you for a moment with a sort of wonder in her eyes.

“Wanted to do that for a while,” you confess before she can say anything.

“Me too,” is all she manages. She leans in again, but you muster every resolve within you and pull away after a few seconds. She pouts.

“You have to be up at 6am tomorrow,” you point out.

“I’ll sleep in the car,” she quips back.

“Someone has to drive that car,” you retort.

She laughs and it’s a nice sound, much better than her whines of fear as she shook in the grip of her nightmare, only minutes earlier.

“I never get to tell you how much I appreciate you,” she says, shifting to lie back down and pulling you down with her. Her golden hair splays around her head like a halo, and fingers thread through yours. “You make this job a damn lot easier for me, you know that? Not just the safety stuff, but just… you.”

You know what she means. You pull her into you and she sleeps sounder than she has in months.

#kate stewart x reader #kate lethbridge stewart x reader #kate lethbridge stewart #kate stewart #jemma redgrave #jemma redgrave x reader #gender neautral reader #doctor who #ncuti gatwa #the legend of ruby sunday #empire of death #15th doctor #unit #ruby sunday #millie gibson #one bed trope

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tireddal · 2 years ago

Text

TFP!Soundwave x Cybertronian!Reader (G/N) with oversensitive audials

--- before war ---

• having sensible audils always has been a trouble for you;

• you were able to hear almost anything – ordinary gossips, howls of pain from gladiator's rings, pumping of energon throughout whole Cybertron, Council discussions, but also sounds from other planets and living creatures. First time it was rough, as you tried to assist anyone who managed to croak a quiet plead for a help. Moreover, listening to whimpers and painful groans all the time hadn't done to you any good;

• so you decided to block your audials at all. working as a tech meant having ability to get written instructions, active communication wasn't necessary while you've been repairing gadgets. Audio plugs hadn't solved problem fully, but other bots' talking was like a constant whisper, not a deafening roar as before;

• than you met Sentinel. You had never expected someone as respectable to take even a glimpse at you, ordinary clerk from small workshop;

• at least working under his authority wasn't too bad. Sentinel requested from you espionage work and in return provided you with soundproof quarters, audials' plugs and any necessary supplies;

• his secretary - Soundwave, was the only one who decided to get acquainted with you beside work terms. You interpreted his actions as an attempt to become more successful in executing tasks as you were both working with espionage –

• or maybe, you just had accidentally saved one of his minibots, who was buried under ship's debris on the mission and struggled until you hadn't tracked his quiet whispers for help;

• friendship between you two had been building slowly. At first, you hadnt listened to him in attempt to ignore any loud noises – but Soundwave, needless to say, was (unexpectedly) extremely gentle with his voice while speaking to you as other Cybertronians always shouted and didn't care about your audials. Being an expert with sound, Soundwave knew how much you were hurt from hearing everything on Cyberton and above it. Soundwave had spent almost three cycles gathering information about your sensitivity, and with which noise level you'll be convenient;

• his amount of knowledge about your comfortable hearing was shocking to you – other cons had never shown any interest in you because of your created "deafness", but Soundwave showed you somewhat of respect, gaining your trust by small steps and infinite patience, not getting annoyed when you've forgotten to turn off audials' plugs;

• the wariness hadn't left you immediately. Soundwave was a great spy as Sentinel wasn't a simpleton, so believing velvet mech at once would be self-destructive decision. However, Soundwave hadn't tried to hurt you at all, only speaking quietly enough for you to be comfortable, or sometimes even reassuring and supporting you when espionage work became too stressful;

--- while war ---

• you had thought a lot about joining the Autobots. They might be not the best side, but few of them often hadn't interfered in fights, so it was absolutely a thing which you had desired for a long time while working with Sentinel. He had been patient with yours audio problems, yet never offered you to be out of the battle if there had been one;

• you've been convinced by Soundwave to stay with Decepticons. He persuaded you that Megatron soonly would become a winner, so you must be with them, but deeply inside Soundwave just can't lose you after losing every minibot except Laserbeak. To him, the last minicon and you are a reminder of calm and peaceful life on Cybertron;

• Soundwave is still the only true friend of yours. You are in good relationships with other mechs like Knock Out or Dreadwing, but they still seem not as caring as communications officer. Sometimes they try to talk quietly, but forget about it often. Not the reason to blame, however - Soundwave has spent with you a lot of time, so he's much more adjusted to your features;

• he's jealous when other mechs talk to you without due respect. In his opinion they're annoying and have no concern about your audials in the same way as himself, also they even bother you with matters outside the job;

• Soundwave almost hates Starcream. Air commander may be a great strategist (rarely), but usually Seeker rises volume of his voice, which is unpleasant not only for you, but other Cons as well;

• you engage in fights only when Soundwave is able to assist you. For Megatron, your ability to hear anything is a great weapon against Autobots, and there's no reason not to use it. However, Soundwave had made attempts to persuade Decepticon's leader to exclude you from battles at all. Although fighting alongside Soundwave is comfortable – jet takes attackers on himself and leaves you to gather information and espionage from distance. Also, there is always a Laserbeak who's ready to protect you from intruders.

#soundwave transformers #transformers prime #tfp x reader #tfp headcanons #soundwave tfp #soundwave x reader #soundwave #transformers

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cfcreative · 1 year ago

Note

After your biggest self indulgent headcannon with the famed moon lesbians, I've wanted to ask you about your personal headcannons when it comes to the characterisation of both Aylin and Isobel.

In my experience in playthroughs, I feel like I got Aylin's character down pretty well. Bold to the point of recklessness, unyeildingly loyal to the ones she loves, loud and unapologetic but deeply rage full and stubborn.

But I'm pretty stumped on Isobel. I've tried getting extra dialogue from her before she's reunited with Aylin but I just feel like the one scene isn't enough.

What do you think about her character?

Oh, wow, my first ask! And about Aylin & Isobel, of all things. Genuinely delighted by this development.

(DISCLAIMER: I’ll never declare myself an expert on these characters. My reads on them are based on a healthy knowledge of writing, tropes, and speculations spinning off of personal experiences. Unless Larian has put it in the game or game related materials, it’s all headcanons. Cheers!)

I'll put a TL;DR up front (or my "thesis statement" if you want to get academic with it). Isobel and Aylin make each other "more human" primarily by being opposites in the way they express themselves. Aylin is bold, fearsome, and brash. Isobel is composed, sensible, and calculating (while “calculating,” tends to have negative connotations, I'm more leaning into it in a "she's a planner where Aylin is a do-er" way.)

I do hope you’re ready for a ramble, because I have been working on this on-and-off all day.

One of the most important things to keep in mind is Isobel was raised in a house in mourning.

The kind of epic grief Kethric would have gone through upon the loss of his wife would have forever altered the way he acted towards Isobel, beyond making sure she was raised as a Selûnite per Melodia’s wishes. The Kethric we’re presented in game is a fairly controlled man. He's unlikely to be the kind of person who would show his young daughter how deeply his sorrow wounded him; he'd keep his weeping behind closed doors. What distraught adults forget is that children understand and see way more than they're given credit for. Young Isobel would be acutely aware of her father’s pain, and the fact that he hid it. She was a child coping with her own sorrow, and would have looked to her father's example of how to deal with it: she'd learn she was allowed to care deeply, but she could not present that to others. Melodia's death also likely motivated Isobel to become a powerful cleric relatively quickly—a powerful enough cleric might have been able to heal her mother, might have spared her and her father this agony.

The Thorms, being a family of power and privilege in Reithwin, would have been treated by most of the people around them with formal manners, which would be isolating for a child. Everyone in Reithwin would frame Isobel as Kethric Thorm’s beloved daughter, a child without a mother, the devotee of Selûne. They would treat her with respect tinged with pity, never really knowing her... which would be even more isolating.

That's why Isobel is struck by Aylin so immediately (you know, aside from Aylin being a tall blonde sculpture of a woman). Every one of Aylin’s emotions are BIG and outward-facing. Most people approaching “The General” or “The General’s Daughter” would default to near ceremonial conduct. Dame Aylin wouldn’t see the need! Aylin cares strongly about justice, and defending the weak against the wicked, and everyone knows that about her in ten minutes of meeting her, tops. Aylin is passionate and sincere in that passion. Isobel would have been drawn to that, despite the fact that her upbringing still dictates composure.

You can also witness the emotion/composure contrast in the way Isobel reunites with Aylin after Kethric is finally dead. Aylin falls to her knees, picks Isobel up, spins her around. Isobel is overjoyed, but also more reserved. Her emotions are not in grand gestures but in the trembling of her voice—she’s trying to hold herself together.

(If you haven't seen it, there's a Devnote that specifically states that Isobel's delighted by Aylin's demanding people shove off and let her do unspeakable things to Isobel in private. Isobel scolds her angel for acting that way in public, but once those two are alone...)

This is where I circle back on “calculating.” Because it's not just in reuniting with Aylin that Isobel has had to hold herself together. She's been doing that for months....

Imagine yourself in Isobel's position before the start of the game. One moment you’re in your comfortable, warm home, trying to work out how to reconcile your devoted father and your angel, the two people dearest to your heart. Then you blink… and open your eyes in a cold, dusty tomb. It reeks of death. So does your father, who is telling you your beloved is no more. His lips are curling up in an ever-so-slight smile as he delivers the news. The sheer confusion and panic most people would feel in that moment would be overwhelming.

Isobel could have panicked and fled, but that tomb is filled with bones and Kethric is now the Chosen of Myrkul. Where Aylin would charge in and through, inherently trusting her own strength, Isobel would need to craft a plan. Maybe she would play on her father’s emotions until she found herself in a position to run. Maybe she prepares haste or hold person under her breath, or unleashed a well-timed "turn undead." In any case, Isobel is able to pull herself together and escape in such a way that her father cannot follow. She finds a familiar place and sets up a bastion of protection there. Rather than fleeing the Shadowlands altogether, which is what most people would have done, Isobel starts gathering information. She needs to know what happened to her, her family, and her lover. She needs to know why there’s Sharran magic literally everywhere. She is alone, trying to piece together a confusing story she was part of, and somehow the driving force of after she was killed.

Harpers arrive to deal with the threat of Kethric Thorm like they did a century before. Jaheira would have been a legend even when Isobel was a child, but Isobel makes the very conscious choice not to tell Jaheira her true identity. She doubles down on that when Tav and their companions come through... unless they have proof of who she is beforehand. (In this way Shadowheart and Isobel are hilariously in contrast: the Selûnite is a much better secret-keeper than the Sharran.) So I think that all covers "composed, sensible, and calculating" with regards to Isobel, but when writing from her PoV I think you would have a very rich inner dialogue in line with the ideals Aylin outwardly expresses: Isobel wants to comfort and protect the weak, she's loyal to the ones she loves, and feels strongly and deeply. Once she and Aylin are together again, Isobel's presentation shifts. Where Isobel is a grounding force for Aylin (thinking about how Isobel would have had to explain to Aylin why she was upset Aylin went on a month long walk without warning), Aylin pulls Isobel out of that carefully crafted shell of hers (thus my statement re: making each other "more human.") I haven't yet written any (complete) fan fiction for these two but this fic on A03 (fair waring: it's smutty!) really altered my thoughts as to what Aylin and Isobel could have been like prior to Isobel's untimely death. While I love to joke about Aylin ALWAYS TALKING IN ALL CAPS, there's something to be said for writing her along the lines of a courtly knight-errant. Aylin worships Isobel in a way people worship Selune; she's Isobel's most fervent devotee. Isobel is swept away by love at first sight, but still needs to navigate her father's delicate emotions and her own responsibilities. I firmly believe anyone writing anything in the timeframe of the game or beyond it needs to consider their past, even if they have no plans of writing anything of the sort.

I could probably go on for another um... 13 or so paragraphs (😅) but it's proooobably better if I wrap this up. I hope this gives you some things to think about, and helps a bit with whatever you're working on!

#hey hi hello i’m so sorry you asked about a hyperfixation of mine #because this is what you get #CF Answers!#(More Accurately: CF Rambles!)#dame aylin #isobel thorm #aylin x isobel #baulders gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #headcanon #moon lesbians #nightsong

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