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#dog would fit right in ^^. i think god would have a bit of a harder time. he hasn't been with other supermutants since he formed iirc.
w2soneshots · 3 days
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Announcement -W2S
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Words: 0.6k+
Warnings: pregnancy.
Summary: you and Harry announce your exiting news to the sidemen in an interesting way.
a/n: hello my babies! I haven’t done a dad!bog fic in forever and this brought back all my baby fever🥹. Here’s the request. Enjoy!!🧸💓🫶🏼
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Today me and Harry are announcing our pregnancy to the boys. We've been keeping it our little secret for just over four months and it has been difficult but we've loved it. I'm not an official member of the sidemen but I'm always in their videos so morning sickness and the crazy hormones have been hard to hide, along with the fact I now have a bump. I haven't worn anything tight fitting in weeks. We wanted to do something funny and casual with the boys so when we found out that they were filming a photo roulette for more sidemen we knew that was our chance.
"You nervous?" I asked Harry as we drove. "Not really, I'm just excited to finally tell everyone." He replied with a smile. We told our families a few days ago and they were all ecstatic. "I feel the same. Also we're gonna need to tell Faith ASAP because we both know Ethan can't keep any secrets from her." Harry chuckled, knowing I was definitely right.
When we arrived outside of the building and Harry parked we made our way upstairs. "Hey! Feeling better?" Tobi asked as we walked into the studio. Last week I had to leave a side plus shoot early because I started to feel nauseous. The boys were concerned but Harry reassured them that I was fine, since he knew that it was just because I'm pregnant. "Yeah." I smiled with a light nod of my head.
Once we sat down to film we began with a few other videos then finally after around two hours it was time. "Hello and welcome to 'sidemen photo roulette', with y/n!" Simon announced to the camera. "Everyone has sent in a random amount of pictures from their camera rolls and you'll all have to guess who sent it in." He explained. Simon was going to be able to see the pictures so I was just hoping he would stay silent.
We got started and we saw some really funny and random photos. As the game went on my hands were fidgeting as I anticipated what was going to happen. "Ok and the final pic." The picture me and Harry had taken of our dog with the baby's first ultrasound in his mouth popped up on the tv. The room went silent. "Is that? Oh my god!" Ethan jumped from his seat, looking straight at me and Harry. Everyone quickly began to catch on and cheers filled the room.
Once everyone said congratulations we sat back down. "How many months are you?" JJ asked. "Five." I replied. "Twenty weeks?!" Vik exclaimed. Harry chuckled. "Uh yeah. We kept putting off telling everyone. Before last week only me and y/n knew." He explained. "So you-" Ethan pointed down to my stomach, which was covered by one of Harry's oversized hoodies. I nodded then slowly lifted it over my bump. All six of their eyes flickered from my stomach, to me and then to Harry. "So the other week you-" Tobi began. "I smelt something weird and it made me feel nauseous." I laughed.
Later that night I sat between Harry's legs, my back leaning on his chest. He ran his fingers over my bump as we sat in a comfortable silence. "I think they were a bit shocked that we waited so long to tell everyone." I whispered. Harry smiled, even though I couldn't see him. "I like that we kept it a secret. But it feels good to be able to talk to people about it, since it's like the biggest and best thing that's ever happened to me." He replied quietly. I hummed as my hands traveled to land on top of his. "Want me to run you a warm bath?" He asked. "Only if you join me." I smiled. "I was already planning on it."
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caracello · 1 year
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i think dog and lily would get along so well. dog is always starving, and lily's 'grandma that will NOT let you leave hungry' instinct would kick in immediately. for god, i think he'd get along with marcus the most... marcus is kind and fair, and i think he'd enjoy being able to talk in depth with someone about. anything. by that same virtue, i think god would like doc henry even if he is a bit callous.
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i wasn't feeling especially fatigued while in the worst of covid, especially since i have cfs anyway, but now that im recovering I'm starting to struggle to do more than shower. i already get winded easily but this is especially bad for me today.
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thedreamlessnights · 2 months
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Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so
Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!
For Your Eyes Only
Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW
Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.
Word Count: 5.8k
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After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.
You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it. 
The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing. 
Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.
What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.
Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long. 
The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.
A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.
Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”
Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”
“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path. 
“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”
“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”
“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”
And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.
“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel. 
You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face. 
Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.
When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.
“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.
“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”
“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”
Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch. 
“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war. 
“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”
“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”
“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”
But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.
Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now. 
“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”
“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.
 “Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.” 
Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same. 
Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.
“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.
“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”
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By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel. 
The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”
It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best. 
Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.
The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too. 
You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees. 
Nothing. You find nothing.
“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”
“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?” 
He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”
“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”
A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”
Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.” 
“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”
“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”
“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”
The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.
“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.
“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”
“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That��s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”
You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud. 
“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”
You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.
You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.
Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.
When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything. 
Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”
But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound. 
Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.
Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?
Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.
In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”
Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood. 
“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”
Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”
“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?” 
Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”
He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.
There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.
When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.
The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.
For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision. 
You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?
Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.
“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”
You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.
“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.
He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue. 
Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.
He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.
Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind. 
You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.
He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething. 
And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.
After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief. 
You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.
“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”
He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps. 
You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him. 
After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck. 
Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.
One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.
When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.
Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.
You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 
The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.
“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”
“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.
“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”
“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.
And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.
You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it. 
Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.
He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.
He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.
And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-
And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.
“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”
Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.
“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”
He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”
You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”
He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”
He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-
Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand. 
You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.
Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again. 
He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot. 
For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.
You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.
“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”
And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.
“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.
“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment. 
You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements. 
Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.
You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble. 
If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire. 
He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.
Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”
You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”
He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.
“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”
Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals. 
His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.
You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”
And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.
 You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.
You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.
“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”
And, gods, all you can do is laugh.
1K notes · View notes
violetarks · 11 days
Text
“baby keep talking, but nobody’s listening!”
anime: jujutsu kaisen
characters: gojo satoru, choso, fushiguro toji
summary: they find you on a date with someone they've never seen before, but they don't need to look for long to see how bored you were. deciding for you that it would be the first and only date you ever went on with that man, they come to your rescue.
warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is on a date with a man, said date sucks ass (trying to regulate what y/n eats, snarky comments, egotistical, rude to hospitality workers), shoko/itadori/shiu help set you up on a date but they suck at it
↣ gojo satoru
"satoru, you have to get out," you huff at him, crossed arms over your chest. he sat on your cough, flicking through tv channels. "my date is coming here in ten minutes!"
"you mean the stranger that shoko met at the mall and said would 'totally be your type'?" he says, looking over his shoulder to you. you raise a brow. "c'mon, blow him off. we need to finish 'the last of us'!"
"don't you dare watch it while i'm gone, satoru, or god so help me—" your phone rings, interrupting your threat. you answer when you see the number of your date. "hello? oh, yes, this is y/n."
you begin to walk to grab your keys and your bag, satoru following after you when you suddenly stop.
"oh, uh... you want to meet there?" you say, tilting your head, "no, that's fine, i'll leave now. see you—..."
"he's not coming to pick you up?" satoru questions, watching as you take out your car keys.
"he's actually already there. and he's ordered for me." you say with a bit of doubt in your voice. satoru can hear it. "it's fine, i should go now. don't you dare watch that show, i will kill you. see you, satoru."
the whole time you're gone, he can’t do anything. he’s sitting in silence for an hour, not even looking at his phone. he felt angry at himself.
so he followed you, obviously.
he looked up the restaurant you had mentioned to him before and saw the pictures posted online. it looked like such a nice first date place. and that boiled even more jealousy in him. of course he had to follow you.
and luckily he did; you looked miserable.
he takes out his phone as soon as possible.
“you know how many calories are in that meal?” your date said after the waiter left your table, “way better for you than what you wanted.”
you had just told him your favourite dish in the menu. and he told you he ordered you just a salad. while he got two meals because he was ‘bulking’.
when shoko showed you his instagram, you had to admit that he was cute. he was fit too, and you did your fair share of exercise. he had a nice smile and he also posted photos of his dog. but that couldn’t shield you from what was right in front of you.
you found out he was a model for a magazine you’ve never heard of, and while that was impressive, it was his whole personality. you asked about his pet, and he somehow turned it back to his career and how he did a fireman themed calendar last year. you’d think he was surely more than that, but it didn’t seem it. you had barely talked about yourself. it didn’t look like he was interested anyway.
“hm, what did i do today?” he thought out. you cringed at the way he tapped his chin, pretending to think. “i hit the gym at 5am, walked my pet for an hour and a half, took some photos for my resume since i’ve got a new deal coming up, and spent time from then to now just at the studio.”
you were waiting for him to ask about your day. he doesn’t.
“and you know, i’m actually the most valued model at my studio. they always call me for shoots, i’m always first on their list. you’d think i could catch a break every so often,” he chuckles out, rubbing up and down his arms. you hold back from rolling your eyes as you sip your water. “but it’s hard being so… handsome.”
you stare at him and fight the urge to roll your eyes once again.
"what about you?" the moment you've waited for comes a little too late. you're not even interested in speaking about yourself.
"well, i did some grocery shopping this morning—"
"what did you buy?"
"me and my friends are having a movie tomorrow, so i just bought some snacks for us," you explained for some reason, "chocolates, popcorn, chips—"
"junk food?" he scoffs back, "no, no, you don't need all that. you oughta' bring it back and get some fruit. way better for you."
you down the rest of your alcoholic drink you had ordered (the one thing he did let you choose) and look away.
that is when you feel a hand rest on your upper back.
"excuse me, ma'am," you look up and widen your eyes when you see satoru standing before you. he's wearing a white button-up, black slacks, dress shoes and a black waist apron. you freeze up. "the gentleman over there asked me to give you this, already paid for."
you look over to where he was pointing. nanami sits in his own suit as he waves his hand at you, pained smile. satoru places a mojito in front of you. your date stands up.
"the hell? doesn't he see that i'm here?" he scoffs as he stands up. his chair screeches against the floor, which collects everyone's attention in the restaurant. "he's insulting me! what a prick! i'm gonna fuck him up!"
"hey!" you stand up as he begins trudging over. satoru places a hand on your shoulder to stop you, and you see nanami roll his eyes and stand up as well, ready for the fight. "what are you two doing here? and why are you dressed like that?"
"i'm the ultimate undercover agent, of course," he replies. he begins pulling off his apron and dropping it on your seat. he hooks his arm with yours and smiles. "let's get outta' here."
"but my date—"
"he's fine," you watch as nanami dodges one of his punches with and irritated face. "nanami will take care of him."
you let him whisk you out of the restaurant while everyone is watching the two men fight (not really). satoru walks you to his car and starts the engine. you see nanami's car behind his.
"did you seriously bring him along to get me out of that date?" you chuckle as you stare at him. satoru purses his lips and looks away. "thank you, satoru. you didn't have to."
"you're welcome, gorgeous," he responds to you, "i could tell from the phone call that he wasn't all that. wonder what barrel they fished him out of."
you let out a small sigh and look out the window. you were embarrassed; this was the first date you've ever been set up on, and it went horribly. you knew you should've left earlier, not wait until satoru came along. he was your saviour for today, you had to admit.
but what was even worse, you seemingly let than man talk to you like that. you could chalk it up to just being friendly and giving him the best benefit of the doubt, but deep down you know you would never have let that slide with people you know. hell, yaga could speak to you that way and you would still give him an earful.
"don't be sad, y/n, now we can go to yours and watch our show," satoru attempts to cheer you up. he flashes you a smile. "i promise, i won't eat all your food."
"you're a liar, satoru." you laugh back.
"seriously though, that guy was a wreck. why did he keep talking about calories and stuff?" he mumbles out with a disapproving shake of his head, "i had to shut him up somehow. i should've just spilt the drink over him."
"oh god, what about the food? i didn't pay for my meal."
"you mean the salad you didn't want? i cancelled it for ya'."
"why aren't you this nice all the time? you usually bully me." you claim in a joking matter. satoru pouts at you. "i appreciate this, a lot. i guess guys who only ever think about themselves aren't my type."
there's a quietness in the car as he turns on his indicator. you enjoy the little noise coming from the radio, a song that you've heard quite a lot.
"you know, yuuji, nobara and megumi?" he clears his throat.
"yeah?" you respond to him in confusion.
"yeah," he hums with a nod of his head, "i think 'bout them a lot. they're good kids."
"they are," you agree with him. it takes you a few seconds before you look at him again. "satoru, that's not what i meant."
"so am i your type?"
"oh my god."
"answer the question, y/n."
↣ choso
"yuuji?"
"yeah?"
"do you know who this is?" choso shoves his phone into his brother's face.
"uh, that's y/n." yuuji responds in a bit of confusion. the two of them were sitting in a new restaurant with ramen on their tables. choso’s sat nearly untouched for the past ten minutes as he flicked through some pictures you sent to a groupchat with him in it. yuuji was halfway through chewing noodles when choso asked him about the photo you sent a few minutes ago. “why? she looks good.”
“no doubt,” choso mutters in response as he zooms in on the other figure in the picture you took of your reflections in the window, “i mean him.”
“oh, that’s the guy who me, nobara and y/n saw last week at the movies,” yuuji responds, “he asked y/n for her number, so i think they’re out together right now.”
he looks at yuuji in disbelief as the pink-haired boy starts slurping on the soup. it takes him a few seconds to properly react.
“are you serious?” choso says a little loudly. people turn to stare at the pair. “you let him get her number?”
“what? he seemed cool and y/n didn’t seem to mind that i gave it to him.” yuuji holds his hands up in defense as choso angrily glares at the photos on his phone screen. “you said you weren’t gonna’ make a move on her anyway!”
“that doesn’t—” a groan leaves his lips as choso holds his head. he lets in a deep breath. “okay, it’s fine.”
“i’m sorry, choso.”
“no, it’s my fault, i did say i wasn’t going to ask her out,” he tells yuuji, who slowly goes back to eating, “i… i missed out, i guess.”
yuuji frowns as the guy in front of him sadly eats his food.
“you know…” he begins with a small smile. choso looks up to him. “they’re just out for lunch nearby. y/n told me where they were going. we could—”
“yuuji! hurry up!” choso has grabbed his jacket and is rushing to the door before yuuji can reply, “we might miss them!”
yuuji scurries out of restaurant after he gobbles down his ramen. it isn’t too far of a drive, actually. it took about 15 minutes to get there and choso had easily spotted your car in front of a cozy cafe. he parks next to it and almost ducks when be notices you in the chair facing the window, facing the two of them, with your date sitting in the booth — your favourite spot. choso always let you sit in the booth side.
choso clutched onto the steering wheel with gritted teeth. yuuji looked towards you to get a better view.
“huh… she looks annoyed.” yuuji points out.
“this guy…” choso grunts.
inside the cafe, you had taken a few photos of your food and your drink. you’re glad yuuji suggested this place, you loved the service and the food here. the servers were always so nice and helpful and quick, and the food was amazing too.
it was obvious to you that your date didn’t think the same.
“god, everything in here is so…” he begins as he examines the design on his waffles. he cringes a little. “girly.”
“it’s just a bunny design,” you point out as you sadly stir the cat-shaped foam into your hot drink, “it’s cute.”
“it’s embarrassing,” he reiterates. you purse your lips and sip your drink. the delicious taste was enough to make you forget his sour tone. until he speaks up again. “can’t believe your friend told us to go here.”
“i love this cafe,” you state, “everyone here is so nice.”
“the service is slow and they gave me the blueberry waffles instead of the normal ones like i said,” he complains. you set your drink down and hold back from rolling your eyes. “i don’t care how busy you are, you always check five times that the order is correct.”
you don’t even reply to him after that, only trying to enjoy your meal that you paid for. he wasn't helping at all. you thought that because he was so charismatic when talking to yuuji that he was probably a good catch, but you couldn't have been more wrong. maybe he was just putting up a front in order to score you. you really shouldn't judge a book by its cover anymore.
"hey. over here," he begins to snap his fingers and nodding at a server with four full plates of food. the guy looks over frantically, obviously under pressure. "i wanna' ask you something."
"ah, right, give me a second, sir—" the guy was trying to distribute the food with the customers who he was serving.
"i told you, slow service," your date scowls towards you. could you be any more embarrassed right now? the server finishes off his task before coming over to you two. before he can even ask, your date is holding up a nearly empty cup of coffee. "this is the most bitter coffee i have ever had in my whole entire life."
"oh, well, you ordered an americano, sir," the poor server explains, "they tend to be bitter."
"what? no, no, no," the guy in the booth starts shaking his head, "i ordered a flat white."
"you..." the server begins. he was the one who had taken your order too.
"you ordered the americano, actually," you pointed out. the guy raised a brow at you, unamused. "it's okay, you can just order a flat white—"
"god, i did not order an americano." he claims.
but you distinctly remember him saying 'americano' for his drink. and the server repeated the order back to him before it was confirmed annoyedly. you stare down at his nearly empty cup.
"y'know what? just put the flat white on the tab, i will pay for it." you sigh out as you rub your neck.
your date looks more pissed off as the server leaves.
"he was wrong, you don't have to pay for another drink." he mutters out.
"it's nothing, don't worry." you retort and stare back down at your food. you didn't have an appetite anymore and a few minutes pass in silence.
the flat white comes out after such a long time of waiting. your date drinks it quietly, but you notice that he makes a face to show he doesn't like it. you quickly excuse yourself to go and pay at the counter for your food (he insisted on splitting the bill since he didn't like the place) so that you don't have to hear him bicker about it.
"hey," you turn behind you to see choso standing there in a baggy hoodie, a bit nervous, "fancy seeing you here..."
your eyes flicker to outside, where you see yuuji waving at you from choso's car. a smile lands on your face.
"nice to see you, choso," you mutter back as you fish out your wallet. the cashier rings up your total and you press your card to the reader. "how was your lunch with yuuji?"
"good. we cut it short to save you," he bluntly says. you blink as he glares at your date. "i don't like the guy you're with."
"me neither," you sigh out, "i think this is the last time i'll see him. but i gotta' tough it out for the rest of the date."
"you could just leave now." choso adds. he looks at you with furrowed brows.
"ah... i'm not that confident—"
"a takeaway box and takeaway cup, please," choso asks the cashier. she had been sitting there and silently agreeing with you that the guy you were sitting with was a total jerk. "thank you."
he places them in your hands and pushes you gently towards the table.
"who the hell is this guy?" your date scoffs and glares at choso, who does the same back.
"look, i'm not really having a good time on this date," you say as you play with the takeaway boxes. choso hastily takes them from you and fills it with your food in an organised matter. "i think this is the farthest we go. please enjoy the rest of your food, though."
"you serious? ditching me for some jackass?" he accusingly points at choso who wears a shit-eating grin on his face. "this is bullshit!"
"calm down, god..." you groan and rub your temple, "i just don't like you, you're so rude."
"me? you're the one who dragged me to this shithole!"
"shut your mouth before i drop you right now," choso scowls as he pushes the guy back into the booth seat. everyone was watching now, quietly thanking choso for showing up and dealing with him. "grow up, man. you act like a child."
choso grabs your hand and tugs you out of the cafe. you both thank the service with your takeaway in hand. yuuji gets out of the car with a wide smile once you two get closer.
"so, how did it go?" he asks with wide eyes.
you throw your keys at his chest.
"you're driving my car back to my apartment as punishment for setting me up with that asshole," you say with a small frown. you all knew you didn't really blame him, though. "never giving my number out to anyone ever again."
yuuji apologises thoroughly before getting into your car and driving off in the wrong direction. choso opens your door and gives you the food. once he's inside the car himself, he starts it up and begins driving.
you rest a hand over choso's on the middle console.
"thanks, choso," you sigh out, "i should've done that earlier."
"it's fine, y/n, i just wished i came sooner." he replies.
you stare at the side of his face, how irritated he looked just thinking about your date. a smile settles onto your lips and you brush your thumb over his knuckles. he falters and looks back to you for a second before muttering a 'what'.
"i'll take you out for dinner as a thank you," you state, which makes his ears go red, "you're a sweetheart, choso."
"i... uh, yeah, i'll go out with you," he mutters, "thanks..."
the laugh you let out is worth ruining thousands of your dates.
↣ fushiguro toji
"have you ever been to france?" the conceited finance guy in front of you asks, fixing his tie. he wears this smirk on his face that proves that he just knows how rich he was. he wasn't coy at all. you force a smile and shake your head slowly, trying to enjoy your meal at least. "really? that's a shame. i've been plenty of times before, and i've gotta say, the best part is..."
you begin to zone out, sighing to yourself as you move your pasta around on your plate haphazardly. he had chosen such a nice italian restaurant to absolutely ruin your perception of this guy after the first ten minutes of talking to him. you look to your watch, showing it had been only two hours since your date started.
cursing out shiu in your head, you cautiously look out the window to the sky. it wasn't that dark yet, but it felt like your night had been taken away. your mind wanders to yesterday to your conversation with shiu.
shoe
you're getting picked up at 5 tomorrow
y/n
am or pm?
shoe
???
shoe
don't show him how stupid you are, he's a rich guy. maybe he'll bring you to a yacht
y/n
why would i want to be on a yacht for our first date? is he nice?
shoe
he's rich, y/n. that's all that matters.
sometimes, you wonder how he managed to meet all these people. but then you remember that assholes attract assholes. they move together in flocks.
you stare at your red wine and tap your finger on your cheek.
"what do you think about it?" he questions, getting your attention again. you look up to see his smug face. did he really want to know?
"oh, me?" you asks, sitting up straight. you had no idea what he had been saying for the past 15 minutes.
"well, who else would i be talking to, silly?" he says in this mocking tone.
'yourself, it's who you've been talking to all night', you internally say. you had wasted such a nice outfit too. it was such a shame.
"mmm, well, it's a bit—" you begin, only to get interrupted.
"it's insane, isn't it? how could you lose so much money in only a year?" he barks out a laugh, as obnoxious as he was. the table shakes as he bangs his fist against it, waiters and guests looking towards you two. "it's absolutely preposterous! i would never make such a decision like that."
you chew out an awkward laugh before turning to your wine, sipping it.
unknowingly to you, toji was waiting in the car outside the building, getting a good view of you and your new date. he cursed shiu in a huff; not only did he set you up with someone, but the guy was a total prick. he couldn't have done a worse job, and he was broke. he pulled his seat back, watching him with pointed eyes. that guy's mouth hadn't stopped moving ever since you entered the restaurant.
and you? you looked gorgeous, your dress hugged you just right, so much so that he was jealous. toji knows it should've been him to go and take you somewhere like this.
he snaps when the guy calls the waiter over, complaining about his half-eaten food and causing a scene. you looked so uncomfortable. standing up, you excused yourself to the bathroom. and toji is quick to get out of the car.
"he's such an asshole." toji claims as you exit the ladies room. you freeze, pressing out the creases of your dress before walking closer to him at the end of the hall.
"when did you get here?" you ask, hand on your hip, "and how do you know he's an asshole?"
"been watchin' the whole time from the car," he tells you, watching as you widen your eyes and tilt your head at him, "what? couldn't help myself. shiu said you were on a date with some rich guy, 'n i had to see it."
"yeah, well, remind me to kill shiu. he's got the worst taste in men." you sigh out, crossing your arms as you lean against the wall with him. he peers at you. "you know he asked to try every single wine they had before we ordered? and he complained about the merlot not being darker. not only that, he saw my plate and said 'are you gonna' eat all of that?'. the dickhead!"
"that shit looked good." he commented, shaking his head, "who wouldn't finish that food."
"right? ugh, i hate him so much. and he hasn't even asked me about myself other than my name. he explained to me his 'entrepreneurship' and dropshipping. wanted to clock him in the face." you complained more, only fueling toji's own hate for the man.
he lifts himself off the wall, grabbing your arm and dragging you with him. "go 'n get your things. we're gettin' out of here."
"what? what am i supposed to say to him?" you mumble, stumbling behind him, "where are we going?"
"don't say anything to him. if ya' feel bad, pay for your own food." he explains to you, hand moving to rest on your back, "i'm not lettin' you waste that pretty little dress on someone like that guy."
you stare at the back of his head before falling into step with him, stopping at the table with your date. he does a double take once he sees toji, slowly standing up.
"who's he?" he asks, scanning him up and down.
"none of your business." toji retorts, looking down at him.
you begin to grab your purse when he holds out his hand to you. "where the hell are you going?" your date asks you.
"here. for my food." you say, handing him a fifty. the note flutters onto the table in front of him, which he stares at in awe. tugging on your jacket, you stare back at him with furrowed brows. "good luck in life."
with that, you turn around and begin to walk to the exit. behind you, toji sticks his tongue out at the other man and follows after. his hand finds your back once more and you wait to cross the road, sighing out to him, "thank you, toji. saved me."
"no problem." he replies, opening the door for you.
"how did you get in my car?" you ask, sitting in the driver's seat.
"don't ask." he tosses you the keys, making you wonder even more. he gets into the other side, looking back at you. “we’ll hit up that restaurant downtown. the one you always talk about wanting to go to.”
“but you said you don’t like their cuisine.” you claim, starting the car.
“it’s the only place i know that’s fancy.” he explains, looking out the window.
“sweetheart, i wouldn’t say that’s fancy—”
“do you want to go out or not?”
you laugh, reaching out a hand and holding his. he gives a small smile before looking back at you. “thank you, toji.” you say, stopping at a red light. you glance at him, sincere look in your eyes. “it means a lot that you care.”
“jus’ saving you from being stupid as fuck.” he tells you, making you roll your eyes and snatch your hand back, “could ya’ not tell he was a tool when he didn’t knock at your door? motherfucker waited in his car.”
“my god, you’ve been watching since then? toji!” you jokingly reprimand, looking at him for a split second, "i should've known from the start though... he was on his phone the whole time, in the car ride. on bluetooth speaker too."
"i woulda' jumped out the car." he retorts, shaking his head, "we should jump shiu."
"we really should." you laugh, smiling at him, "maybe for our next date."
toji can't help but roll his eyes. he knows deep down that you were hoping shiu was going to set you up with him instead. he can see it on your face, a smile that is pushing through on your lips. you're secretly happy that it was toji who 'ruined' your 'date'.
"i say that because i know you can't pay for dinner."
"did you think i was paying for this one?"
you scoff back, elbowing him, "you leech."
"you know you love me." he says it teasingly, but he knows better than anyone that you actually do.
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elexaria · 5 months
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price is a good influence on the boys, always keeping them in line. its almost like theyre his boys, he doesn’t pass up the opportunity to talk about them with a proud growl in his voice. they dont know this, but he even has a tattered photo of the four of them in his wallet. he’s never settled down, never had kids, so even if theyre only around a decade younger than him, they’re like his own.
well, he’s almost always a good influence on the boys.
the new bit around the military campus, she’s a sight for sore eyes. the capt can’t help but clear his throat, one arm around her shoulder so casually. he’s a charmer, that’s for sure. “don’t let ‘em paw at you, yeah? you tell ‘ol pricey if these dogs bark at you, love, and i’ll let ‘em know who holds the reigns here.” he purrs in her ear, the rough timbre of his voice is enough to make anyone’s blood run hot.
the boys know better than to try and cuckhold price, after all, he’s kind enough to let them watch him as he flirts with the lil honey on base. their eyes watch keenly as he squeezes her arse as she passes by, a smug grin on his lips as she turns around with a playful gasp. he’ll turn his head, nodding with a grunt at the boys. “y’see that, lads? like putty in my hands, she is.” he remarks, and the boys guffaw like a group of schoolboys at how cool he is.
it gets even better when, after a year of casual dating, his lil lady agrees to let the boys in behind closed doors. “just let ‘em watch, yeah? poor boys dont get much action, it’s for morale i ‘spose. keeps ‘em fit and fired up.” he murmurs lowly in her ear, quiet enough only for her to hear. their dance is as old as time, his large hands dancing around her soft skin. her moans are like a siren’s call to the boys, it gets the hairs at the nape of their necks standing. hell, that’s not the only thing that stands to attention when price parts the glistening folds of her cunt, chuckling as he steps back to nod his head at the boys. “stunning, ‘ent she?” he growls out, a smug grin on his face as he leans on his side, dipping two fingers inside of her slowly while his thumb toys with her clit.
my god, you can HEAR the boy’s heavy breathing as they watch price toy with his girl, and johnny’s the first one to break the awkwardness by rubbing his erection through his jeans discreetly. price notices, and raises his eyebrows. “lads, the missus doesn’t mind if you rub one out. do you, sweetheart?” he coos as he crooks his fingers up inside of her, jamming the pads of his fingers up into the spongy spot where she likes it. she gasps, nodding as she looks over at how quickly the lads begin to unbuckle their belts, their cocks quickly springing up out of their confines. a symphony of grunts that harmoniously blend together with her gasps and mewls, and all are at the mercy of price. he continues to toy with her, to prolong her pleasure until, and it doesn’t take long, until the boys cum right then and there— thick ropes of cum spurting into their fists.
with a chuckle, price rises to sit on the bed, his hand now gently rubbing against her folds in a teasing manner. “right, bugger off you bunch of reprobates. give us some privacy, yeah?” he chuckles, motioning towards the door as they’re all quick to tuck their spent cocks in the waistbands of their boxers, quickly scampering off at the call of their captain.
the next morning, they’ll all sit round a small table, making comments about how good price is, how lucky they are to have seen that performance. “he deffo would let us shag her if we asked, ye ken.” johnny says quietly, leaning in close to the lads in a conspiratorial manner.
“johnny, stop thinking with your dick.” simon gruffly replies, shaking his head as to dismiss the silly notion.
“yeah, no way would he let us.” gaz agrees, a defeated sigh escaping his lips as he leans back in his seat. “she was fit, though.” he chuckles, rubbing his face as they all begin to impishly laugh at the memory.
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jamespotterismydaddy · 11 months
Text
In the Wine Cellar
aegon x reader smut
TW: smut, dubcon, incest, pussy slapping, overstimulation, little bit of degrading
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word count: 1,845 words
You’re woken up in the dead of night by someone pounding on your bedroom door and you rub your tired eyes as you sit up in your bed. Who would possibly be calling on you this late?
“Who’s there?” You call out nervously, surely your guard wouldn’t have let anyone dangerous get to the door of your chambers.
“Sister…” Aegon’s voice is whiny and he’s clearly tipsy. All of your hesitance fades away but the annoyance sets in. You step out of bed, cringing at the feeling of the cold stone floor against your bare feet as you pad over to the door, opening it to reveal your smirking brother.
“I was sleeping, Aegon.” There’s an impish grin on his face as he takes in the sight of you. Your nightgown is less modest than some ladies would don and you can tell your dear brother quite appreciates it by the intense look in his eyes.
“What kind of proper lady goes to bed in such an immodest state? I am absolutely appalled. I should inform mother.” He leans against your doorframe as he speaks, a mocking look of shock on his face.
“What do you want?” You ask him with a roll of your eyes. He delights in how irritated you seem to be with him.
“Is there something wrong with me wanting to check in on my little sister?” He eyes you seductively, a hand coming up to twirl your hair around his finger.
“Mayhaps you should check in on your wife instead?” You flick his hand off.
“But you are the one who needs true tending to. A sweet rose like you needs to be watered so you may… bloom.” He sucks on his lower lip as his eyes fall to your breasts. You cross your arms to cover them from his hungry gaze.
“By water do you mean wine, brother?” You glare at him.
“Hm… that is a tantalizing thought…” His mouth twitches up slightly as he seems to be in deep thought. “... but I was thinking of my own personal version of hydration. A sweet nectar that can be applied to those soft lips of yours.”
“Leave now. I want to go to sleep.” You place a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly.
“I know the perfect way to help you back to sleep, little rose. It’ll tire you out for sure.” The playful smirk never leaves his face as he gets closer. You can feel the heat of his breath on your face.
“There's no way in the Seven Hells that I am letting you into my room right now.”
“Even if I promised to be extra gentle?” He places a hand on your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”
“No.” You put both hands on his chest and push him out but he grabs you by the waist and makes you leave the room with him.
“If I can’t come in then i’ll take you someplace else.” He says, taking you by the hand and dragging you along.
“Aegon, I don’t have shoes on!” He ignores your protests as he leads you through the castle. “Where are we even going?”
“My favourite place in the Red Keep.” He grins impishly as he takes you all the way down to… the wine cellar.
“Seriously? Mother will have a fit if she finds us here in the middle of the night.”
“Oh gods, when did you get so boring? Have a little fun for once.” He reaches up to grab two bottles of Arbour Red and hands one to you.
“You know that I hardly have a taste for wine.” You don’t take the bottle.
“C’mon just have a sip for your big brother.” He uncorks the first bottle and gives you his puppy dog eyes with a pout on his lips. “Just one little sip.” He brings the bottle up to your lips and you easily give in, parting your lips to let the crimson wine slip through. You don’t swallow though, not really liking the bitter taste on your tongue. “Now, swallow for me.” The look in his eyes tells you to obey so you swallow the wine, trying not to cringe. “There’s my good girl.” You try to move away but his grip on your hip keeps you pulled flush against him. He keeps pouring the wine down your throat, the bottle held to your lips like he’s feeding a babe. The wine dribbles down your chin and onto your chest as you finally push him off.
“You said a sip!” You wipe the wine off your chest as he brings a hand to your mouth, wiping the drink off your lip with his fingers before bringing them to his own mouth and sucking it off. He never breaks eye contact as he does.
“You can’t handle the taste, sweet rose?’ He takes a swig from the bottle before putting it down. “I can think of another kind of nectar that would help you bloom nicely.” His eyes darken as he presses himself against you. You step back but he just keeps stalking you until you’re cornered against the wall.
“Don’t be stupid.” You duck under his arm and make for the door but he catches you by the arm and he sits by the wine bottles, pulling you into his lap with him.
“Ugh.” You grunt as you squirm a little in his lap but you eventually stop, not truly wanting to leave his hold.
“Good girl. No need to put on a show for big brother. I know what you want.” He lifts the bottle to your lips and makes you drink more before bringing it to his lips and finishing it off. Your head is starting to feel a little cloudy at this point. He turns you a little so he can see your face. His fingertips brush lightly over your lips before they begin to trail down your throat to the swell of your chest. Your hand comes up to hold his, stopping the movement.
“You shouldn’t.” 
“But I will.” He whispers these words in your ear as his hand slips under the top of your nightgown to grope your breasts. You can feel the heat of his breath on your neck before he begins to kiss you there; you feel dizzy. Your hands go up to push him away but you end up gripping his tunic instead. He licks up your neck a little and leaves a mark.
“A-Ah…” You moan a little from the combined sensations of him squeezing your breast and sucking on your neck.
“I knew you’d like it, little whore.” His other hand reaches up to grip your hair. “You want me to touch you…” He nips at your collarbone. “... taste you.” The hand that was on your chest reaches up to the strap of your nightgown. He brings his lips to yours in a messy kiss to distract you from him slipping the strap off your shoulder. The hand that was in your hair does the same thing to the other side. You gasp, feeling the cool air on your bare skin as the nightgown falls to your hips. You break the kiss.
“Aegon!” You chastise him as you bring your hands up to cover your naked breasts.
“It’s fine. Be a good girl and move your arms.”
“You’ll ruin me for my future husband.” You glare at him through your drunken haze.
“You’ll never have a husband that’ll make you feel the way that I do right now.” He grabs your wrists and leans in to whisper in your ear. “Let me give you a night to remember.” He nips at your ear. “Let me be your first.” You think for a moment before lifting your hands to his tunic… you begin to unbutton it. He grins. “My naughty little rose.” He undoes his trousers and you pull his tunic off.
“I hate you.” Your words are a little slurred.
“You love me.” He takes your lips with his for another sloppy kiss. He forces his tongue into your mouth before laying you back against the cold cellar floor. He pins his hands above your head so he can finally get a good look at your breasts. “Such perfect fucking tits.” You blush at the lewdness of it all as his mouth moves to your chest. He circles your nipple with his tongue and leaves little love bites all over before he switches to sucking on the other.
“Mmm…” You moan and he lifts his head up to give you another kiss.
“Let’s get the rest of this off, shall we?” He tugs your nightgown off the rest of the way, taking your smallclothes with it. “Look at this tight little cunt.” He gives you a light smack, right on the pearl, and you squeal. “Sorry.” He says, not really meaning it.
He removes his cock from his trousers and your eyes widen at the sight.
“It’s… large.” You bite your lip.
“You’ll love it.”he smirks as he spreads your legs open a bit more and begins to rub his length along your slit, coating it in your arousal. “You’re so fucking wet that it’ll just slip right it.” You blush once more and he laughs before kissing you again, sheathing himself inside your cunny. He gives you a little chance to adjust before beginning to slide himself in and out.
“Oh gods.” You whimper as he hits that sweet spot.
“I told you you’d love it.” He begins to quicken his pace and groans a bit as you squeeze around him. “You’re so tight.” He grunts. “I wanna keep this tiny cunny all to myself.” His thrusts get rougher as he gets lost in the pleasure.
“H-Harder.” You whine and he grins before beginning to piston in and out of you, his hips slapping against yours at a brutal pace. “Fuck.” You moan as his fingers come down to rub your pearl.
“I want to feel you cum around me, little sister. Cum around my cock as I ruin you for every other man.” His cock continues to slam into you as you reach your peak, the waves of pleasure washing over you. He fucks you through your high and then some as he begins to overstimulate you.
“No… no more.” You beg for mercy as his ruthless pace continues.
“Don’t be selfish.” He scolds as he chases his high. You whine as he keeps fucking into you, the pleasure being too much to handle after your peak. He lets you suffer a bit before he finally gets close. You sigh in relief as he finally pulls out and releases his spend onto your stomach. You both just catch your breath for a moment before he lays on his back next to you and pulls you into his side. “Good job.” He mumbles as you rest your head on his chest. 
The sight of the two of you sure gives some serving boy a fright the next morning.
taglist (comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies
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reminiscingtonight · 4 months
Note
neighbor, drunk, puppy
Alexia Putellas
Just A Doorstep Away (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
[WOSO Masterlist]
Alexia wakes up to something wet. 
Cringing, she jerks back. Only to let out a groan at the nausea that sets in at the sudden motion. 
The blonde lifts two hands to rub at her face. 
God, she’s hungover. A little too hungover. Guess that’s what she gets for going out with the team after winning another trophy.
After her 5th shot things started to get a bit hazy. All Alexia remembered was Ingrid shoving both her and Mapi into a taxi at some point, the Norwegian mumbling something about babysitting children.
Before Alexia can continue to piece together how her night ended, another wet dollop lands roughly against the back of her arm.
Grunting, Alexia slides one of her hands away so she can open an eye.
What she sees has Alexia letting out a frightened yelp, ignoring her nausea to scoot backwards on the bed.
There’s a dog, a very big dog, staring at her with big doe eyes next to the side of her bed. 
Almost as if it’s just realized Alexia’s finally awake, the dog lets out a loud bark. It’s tongue hangs out afterwards, the dog looking happy to have some company.
Alexia can feel her heart beating at a thousand miles per hour. 
Unless she made a purchase or dropped by a shelter sometime between going to the bar and waking up, there is no reason there should be a dog staring back at her like she’s a plate of meat. 
Now, Alexia isn’t a dog hater. She had Nala for quite a long time, of course. But the fact lies therein that Nala was a small, lap dog. Her precious little ball of fur.
This dog? Well it’s at least five times larger than Nala was, definitely larger than any type of dog Alexia would ever be comfortable owning.
“Buen perrito,” she whispers nervously.
The dog simply cocks a head at her before letting out another happy bark.
What happens next Alexia can only describe it as a mini stare-off, the footballer not daring to move and her four-legged alarm clock seemingly more than happy to stare right back at her.
Eventually, when it seems clear that the pup wouldn’t get another reaction out of Alexia, it turns on its heels, slowly trotting out of the room.
Sighing out in relief, Alexia rolls back onto her back. 
With her head pounding like a jackhammer, Alexia decides she’ll just have to deal with her uninvited guest at a later date. Forget giant, unexplainable dogs, Alexia’s got to go find some pain medicine and--
It isn’t until Alexia’s properly taking in her surroundings that she realizes that she is not in her bedroom like she originally thought. 
“Oh no.”
When Alexia finally musters up the courage to leave the room she’s in, she’s met with the aroma of something stomach-grumbling inducing and a woman standing in front of the stove.
Without turning around, you hum out a greeting.
“Er… good morning?” Alexia hesitantly replies back.
When you finally turn around to greet her, Alexia can feel all of her breath leave her lungs. 
Alexia’s a pretty simple woman who has eyes. And what she sees has her wishing she could remember more about how her night ended.
You gesture towards the counter and Alexia sits without a second thought. Mere seconds later you slide a plate towards her, filled with eggs, bacon, and toast.
The dog from earlier comes back around, headbutting Alexia’s leg as if to ask for some food.
“No es tuyo,” you scold, shooing away your dog. “Sorry, Maria begs for food from everyone.”
Alexia’s mouth twitches without meaning to. Mapi’s going to throw a fit when Alexia tells her about this hot stranger with a dog that shares her name later.
Speaking of explaining this to her friends later…
Alexia nervously scratches at her neck. “Thank you for the hospitality and breakfast but… did we do something last night? I think I drank too much.”
You snort. “I think that would be an understatement.”
Alexia can’t stop her hackles from rising defensively. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shakes her head, ignoring the way her vision seems to shake at the motion. “Actually, sorry, do I even know you?”
“Nope. But I know you.” You seem to cringe the second the words come out of your mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make that sound so creepy. I’m 4B.”
When Alexia gives you a blank look you roll your eyes. 
“I live down the hall from you.”
This time Alexia frowns. Out of the scenarios she made up, neighbor was not one of them. “Not to be rude but why the hell did I wake up here if I live down the hall?”
You shrug, digging into your own plate of breakfast. Alexia pretends not to notice when you slip your dog a piece of bacon despite chastising her earlier. 
“Drunk you seemed to think that my place was yours. I could barely get you into the guest room, let alone drag you back home.”
Alexia flushes at your words. She drops her face into her hands in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
You laugh, a light sound that has Alexia’s heart skipping a beat. “It’s fine. I’ve been meaning to introduce myself to you for weeks. You just helped me get over my nervous phase. It’s hard to find someone scary when you’ve seen them trip over their own feet.”
Alexia lets out another groan of embarrassment, but this time there’s an amused smile on her lips.
You might be neighbors, but she can find herself getting used to this.
And the way you brush fingers on her way out the door an hour later tells her that you might want that too.
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shotmrmiller · 4 months
Text
singlemom!reader au~
Pathetic!Simon purposefully gets sick. He's seen the way you coddle your baby, and he wants a sliver of that attention.
(i will not go into detail on what he does, but be aware that temperature doesn't make you sick, bacteria and viruses do. good luck.)
Once sick, he covers his face with a black surgical mask and waits around the time you come home to step out, hoping to catch you in the lift.
Bingo.
"Oh my god, forgive me for saying so, but you look like death." He'd huff out a chuckle if he didn't also feel like it.
He can feel his throat itch, a tight pressure in his chest, and a wet cough claws out of his throat. Simon tips his head and moves to go around you but you're swiftly grasping his hand, dragging him back down the hallway.
"Absolutely not, you are not walking around like a living dead while this ill."
He's dizzied off of your touch, the small hand in his larger one slamming his pathetic, little heart against his ribs.
"Even your hand is hot to the touch! You, sir," a jingle of house keys as they're inserted into the lock, "are getting some much-needed rest. The baby is with her grandmother today, so it'll be just us."
He can't be blamed for the way his cock stirs at the thought of being alone with you. This is better than what he'd expected, truthfully speaking. Simon had just wanted your sympathy, maybe even a cup of homemade soup but this?
"Come, shoes off." He toes off his new balances as he watches you take off your coat, hanging both on the rack.
You flick your eyes to him and that look you give him makes his cock twitch. Your brows are furrowed, a worried look reflected in your pretty eyes, the corners of your beautiful lips pulled down.
Pity. His loins are on fire. You pity him, and he loves it.
"Simon, I think we should lie you down." Your fingers grab his own, leading him toward your bedroom.
Everything happens in a blur, maybe he's gone and gotten a little too sick, but it's all worth it when you tuck. him. in.
Unfolding the covers that lay on the foot of the bed, you gently pull it until it sits just under his chin.
"Right, you get some sleep and I'll make you some chicken soup. I've luckily got all the ingredients in the fridge already."
Would it be too much to ask for a kiss on the forehead?
The door softly clicks shut and he unloops the masks from around his ears and breathes in.
Your blanket smells like you— a heady, musky vanilla with an underlying twang of lavender.
His head spins, it's so rich in your scent, his painfully hard cock straining against the zipper of his trousers. His imagination runs wild as he fists it and presses it right under his nose, inhaling noisily.
Do you sleep shirtless under this blanket? Does it have the privilege of feeling your bare, soft skin?
He's always known that he's a bit insane, especially with his borderline criminal behavior, but what he does next, he really hopes you don't blame him for.
Simon pulls down his trousers just a bit and fists his cock from over the blanket— the touch as close as he's ever going to get from you.
He's been aroused since you laid eyes on him on the lift, the almost disappointed face you gave him was almost too much. Simon loves it, any attention is worse than none, but his spine tingles when you, and only you, look at him like he's a pitiful cur.
A stray dog that limps around, scrounging for food around the streets, tugging at the heart strings of others.
Sublime.
He curls into himself as he nears his peak, the material of your blanket sodden with his pre-cum, a souvenir of his time here.
And then your footsteps are outside of your door, your knuckles rapping on it.
"You need anything from me, Simon?"
Oh, love. Give him everything.
He choked out his negative, which you luckily mistook as him having a small coughing fit but in reality, your dulcet voice sent him careening over the edge at neck-break speed— gooey, viscous cum spurting into your blanket.
Simon's teeth audibly grind, keeping back any noises that want to claw out of his sore throat.
Drawing in a big gulp of air, his body loosens, sinking into the mattress as his eyelids begin to feel heavy.
Now, he can sleep.
He sincerely hopes this blanket is your favorite.
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seattlesellie · 11 months
Text
ok. can we talk about going with ellie to the mall because i think it would be… interesting.
(fluff ‘n a little bit of smut so mdni! 🎀 also wrote this ages ago and it’s so bad so excuse me!!! and reader is v fem)
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౨ৎ when it comes to ellie williams— i believe she will throughly let you walk her like a dog. quite literally following you around the shops hand in hand— to the point where you’re merely dragging her around. at first, she’d be super chill and relaxed, but one hour later after seeing you try on the same dress three times already— she’d start groaning on and on. “babe… do we really have to go fucking zara again?”, when you tell her that you just regret not buying a certain top, she’d be so adorably pissed off, her eyebrows all furrowed together, just thoroughly confused. she would probably want to stop and eat some food every 5 seconds. “zara… or mcdonalds” ,weighing the two options on her hands and clearly placing the mcdonalds option way higher.
౨ৎ if there’s an arcade— you know her ass is fully stopping in her tracks, begging you to come and play some games with her. obviously, you oblige, because she’s giving you the biggest and cutest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, and maybe she’d stupidly jump up when you say yes. she ends up beating you in every single game— and it's so painfully obvious that she’s been there about 17 times already.
“ellie, you’re only winning because you’re here every single day. you’re like a totallll loser” you defend, after she’d been gloating about her winning streak for 5 minutes straight. unsurprisingly, she just denies it. 
“i swear— ive never been here before, babe”
“els, be honest” you warn.
“okay— been here like once with jesse”
“once?”
“once… plus like five” and at that— she turns around, and places her hand behind her back, so you can intertwine it with yours. she’s sooo beating you in bowling.
౨ৎ while you’re browsing through clothes — shed be hugging you from behind tightly, as she kisses on your neck and silently begs for your attention.
“this skirts super cute, right?” you chirp, pointing at the plaid mini skirt and slowly tracing the soft fabric with the pads of your fingers.
ellie has her chaste lips right on your pulse point, and she’s barely even looking.
you pick it up, and she moves closer behind you with her hands still clinging on to your waist. “cute, right?” — you can feel ellie’s smile slowly form on your neck.
“yeah, babe… you’re very cute. thought you knew that already, though”
౨ৎ when you pull out two pieces from the rack (amethyst purple & floral purple) and ask her which color will fit you better, she just rolls her eyes and huffs. “babe… you cannot be serious they're the exact same”, to you, they are NOT. but ellie fully doesn’t get it at all.
౨ৎ put her in a gamestop— and it’s like she won the lottery. browsing through the different controllers, now its your turn to tease and tell her they’re all the exact same. put her in a NINTENDO shop and its literally over. her eyes are twinkling and sparkling, and shes borderline skipping through the store trying to find cool figurines. when she sees a bowser plushie (her mariokart main, duh) she picks it out so fast, and then tries to find you a plushie too— a princess peach or a kirby or whatever you want. she goes to pay, and when you leave the store with your two adorable new plushies inside the bag— ellie fully side eyes you. she has something to say, and you know it. she sighs deeply— “think theyre fucking in there?”
“if they’re anything like us… theyre fucking in there— oh my god, babe… bowsers humping her ass, look” —
she’s literally moving them inside the bag.
౨ৎ okay, so you’re done paying at zara (with her credit card but let’s not… talk about it), ellie left about 15 minutes ago because she was tired of looking at the clothes and she said that place looks like a mental asylum. you’re walking out of the shop with the bags in your hands, and you see her sitting on one of the random mall couches with a random grey haired middle aged man. weirdly, they seem to be in the midst of an incredibly intense conversation. you twist your face because what the fuck and;
“waiting for the wife, huh?” she asks him, manspreading on the chair with her hands resting on her thighs. they’re both staring at the store’s entrance, both sighing heavily. “that i am…” the old man huffs, and ellie chuckles to herself. “me too man… me too”
౨ৎ five minutes later — you find them talking about fucking bathroom tiles.
“i told her i wasn’t going to do marble— but she fucking insisted on it”
you walk a little closer, and ellie is still heavily rambling about floor stuff (?) you have absolutely no clue about.
“els…? ready to go?” you chirp, smiling warmly at the stranger. “gimme a sec” ellie looks at you from the corner of her eye, and keeps going. they’re exchanging numbers because they need to start thinking about how to build a new patio, and he has some “awesome fucking tips, man”
౨ৎ ellie places her hand on your shoulder as you’re walking away, and squeezes. “he was such a cool dude” she remarks, with a stupidly dumb, satisfied smile.
“ellie… he was like, sixty five”
“so? we bonded, babe” she shrugs.
“about floor tiles?” you ask her, and she begins rubbing little circles on your shoulder as you both stray further away from the shop.
“amongst other things” ellie chews on the inside of her cheek. should she say it?
“what things?” you smile sheepishly at your girlfriend, who’s seemingly nervous for some reason.
“you know… his wife…” she bites her cheek even harder now. she should definitely not say it. “my wife” okay— there it is.
her wife.
ten whole seconds of absolute radio silence pass. ellie thinks she might have said too much, but ellie doesn’t know you’re fighting for your life trying to hold on to your tears that are threatening to erupt.
her wife.
“you’re proposing here then, i assume?” you’re trying not to sound emotional, trying not to sound like your hearts about to burst out of your chest and start doing cartwheels on the malls pavement.
“nah… definitely somewhere way classier. like… bora bora, or the food court”
“food court?”
ellie has to stop. ellie has to stop and hold your hand.
“yeah… so i can hide the ring inside your burger n’shit. then you like… choke on it, then i save you… then not only am i a fuckin’ hero, i also get to like… marry the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. and she has to say yes—” there’s no point in swallowing down your toothy smile now. “cause like… i saved her life, y’know?” as much as ellie’s joking, ellie’s cheeks are burning up.
“will you… say yes, though?” she balances her weight from leg to leg, and averts her gaze. mmhm— what an interesting sign!
the way you place your hand on the back of her neck and kiss her hard— that’s definitely a yes.
ellie won’t propose to you in the food court, though. in fact, she has this elaborate plan she has been thinking since about a month into your relationship. that, you’ll never guess.
౨ৎ mall ellie is ALL pda. she doesn’t let go of your hand like ever and constantly needs little kisses on the cheek. she bought you a cute new top? kiss on the cheek. cute dress? kiss on the cheek and on the nose. she doesn’t want you to say your thank you’s, she’d much rather you show them.
౨ৎ when you’re at a lingerie shop… suddenly she comes fully alive. its literally as if someone infused her with seven shots of caffeine and she can’t seem to be able to stop handing you different bra’s, panties, and sexy little nightgowns.
“that’ll look so fucking hot on you” & hands you the sluttiest thong youve ever seen. “that— will drive me fucking crazy” & hands you a sheer bra she can imagine your nipples poking out of.
“wanna eat you out in that” as she hands you a little nightgown and you’re like “ELLIE!” and slap her arm her because a 60 year old woman literally just heard her and looked like she was about to have an aneurysm.
“actually— wanna eat you out in that… and in that too… and in that— oh my god look baby they’re crotchless” wiggling her eyebrows and swaying the fabric in the air.
౨ৎ obviously… she wants you to model them for her. it’s funny, how she didn’t give a fuck when you tried a cardigan on or a hat or saw a cute purse, but now she’s demanding to go inside the dressing room with you and stare you down in the mirror like a perv. she watches you strip out of your clothes and you purposely do it extra slowly, taking your time removing the bra… and now, she’s just leaping out of her sit.
“nope— doing that for you…” she unclasps it, stands behind you and immediately gropes your tits. she gives you sweet little kitten licks and kisses on the neck, whilst maintaining full eye contact with her hands on your boobs from the mirror, and you can’t help but whimper when she takes your hardening nipples between her fingers and rolls them in her thumb. “ellie… were in public” you hiss, bucking your ass onto her crotch.
“we’re not in public, were in a dressing room…” she whispers, like she knows best.
“plus, i gotta test these little panties out… s’for you, y’know?”
ellie makes you sit on her lap to watch it up close, until she’s fully satisfied and is sure that they fit just right, and that she can see herself peeling them off of you. “give me a little wiggle, babe”, she rasps, as her hands roam over your naked waist.
“a wiggle?” you giggle, and burry your face in the crook of her neck.
“like… grind yourself up against me. gotta test the fabric, make sure you’re… comfortable” and— of course you do. you grind yourself up against her thigh until you forget what you even came to the mall for.
ellie’s eyes are fixated on you, taking in your little silent whimpers as you “test the panties” out.
“think… fuck— think we gotta buy them now… soaked ‘em all up, huh?” ellie pants, as she helps you grind your body back and forth. when ellie looks down on her thigh, truly just to watch how your pussy lips swallow the drenched material, ellie comes to an extra conclusion as well. there’s a sticky wet patch, almost heart shaped, over her denim jeans.
“shit… babe, look at that mess…”, she holds you by the back of your neck, and guides your head down. “mhm… gotta buy me some new jeans” your breath cages inside your throat as you begin to stutter, “sorry, el… didn’t mean to”
“oh fuck no… it’s… shit— so fuckin’ hot”
anyways, mall ellie is a menace.
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Text
Dog days are over
Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader
Summary: Elizabeth isn’t a dog person… but you are. After the puppy interview, you try to convince your girlfriend to take one of them home.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language. It was inspired by the iconic puppy interview, obviously, but I changed the questions to fit the plot.
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MASTERLIST
“Oh, my God,” you uttered at yourself under your breath, immediately bringing a hand to cover your mouth and stop a laugh from escaping as you watched the scene unfold in front of the cameras.
You were sitting behind the expensive equipment among the technical team while you all watched your girlfriend, Elizabeth, sitting in the middle of the room with several puppies surrounding her as she tried to answer the questions being thrown her way. It had been complete havoc since the start, something you had predicted when Elizabeth first told you she agreed with that interview - an internet success, which you had watched many other actors doing it before. However, Elizabeth kept her distance from most animals and you were waiting for the chaos that was going on right now.
What you didn’t expect was that a black puppy would jump to try to bite her hair and just fall on her chest, causing Elizabeth to squeak before she could stop herself. You had to hold your laugh the best you could so you wouldn’t disturb the recording, but you almost slipped when you saw your girlfriend trying to cover up her reaction by laughing and awkwardly scooping the puppy into her arms. You usually didn’t tag along to her interviews - especially because sitting behind the camera all day was boring as hell - but Elizabeth had asked you if you wanted to go with her and you didn’t think twice before saying yes. The reason? That scene right there. A slightly panicked Elizabeth holding an overly excited puppy who was waggling his tail and trying to lick her face.
Well, the fact that there were going to be cute puppies also convinced you to be there.
Elizabeth might not be used to being around animals like that, but you grew up surrounded by them. Since you were a small child, your family had a dog, which ended up coming home pregnant one day and the house was suddenly filled with eight other puppies. Your mother managed to give two of them to other family members before you started crying and screaming saying you didn’t want them to go, and that has been it. You grew up surrounded by dogs. When you left for college, you couldn’t adopt any dog since they took so much time, but you entered your dorm one day and found a black cat sitting on top of your computer, and that’s how you ended up with a new pet. The cat, unfortunately, was already a bit old and he ended up passing away a couple of years after you left college.
Since then, you hadn’t gotten any other pets because you lived in an apartment and had a demanding job that kept you away most of the time, but you loved going back to your parents’ house because they still had many dogs and some other animals - your father still hadn’t explained how they ended up with a tortoise, but you were fine with it.
So, yes, you were having the time of your life.
“Are you a cat person?” The question made by one of the interviewers brought your attention back to the scene in front of you.
When Elizabeth quickly replied with a short “nope” you laughed before you could stop yourself, but luckily you weren’t the only one since everyone else in the room shared the feeling. It also made Elizabeth laugh while she looked around at everyone else and struggled to get the black puppy with the blue collar out of her lap at the same time. Her eyes met yours for a brief second, something that made you smile softly even if you could see the silent ask for help behind her green eyes.
“Is it obvious I’m not a dog person?” Elizabeth wondered out loud with another laugh. “The way you said that like ‘so are you an any kind of animal person?’” She said, trying to sound like the woman asking her the questions. “Are you a bunny person?” She joked in the end, which only made everyone laugh again.
The dog in her lap finally gave up trying to lick her face and ran away to play with his little friends, and you saw how Elizabeth visibly relaxed, having a small break from the cute attackers for once. You were still smiling at her, unable to believe how cute your girlfriend was, when you felt something touching your feet. You looked down and saw that one of the puppies had run into you while playing with a toy and you didn’t think twice before leaning down to pet the cute dog. That was the puppy that seemed the most excited about Elizabeth since the beginning, jumping into her as soon as they saw her, and you received the same treatment as her. That made you smile even more widely and your eyes raised for a moment to see how your girlfriend was holding up before grabbing the toy from the floor to toss it away for the dog to chase.
You could have tossed it to the other side, you could have. Instead, you tossed it right on Elizabeth’s feet and then watched the puppy skid with the little paws to reach the toy. Elizabeth was answering a question you hadn’t heard, her attention away from the dogs, so when the puppy jumped on her again she yelped even louder than before in surprise at the sudden attack.
“Oh, God!”
You bit the inside of your cheek to hold another laugh, but you saw someone giving you a thumbs up for helping in getting that scene. You weren’t sure if your girlfriend realized it had been you who threw the toy at her, although you were praying she didn’t.
“I don’t have a dog,” you heard Elizabeth commenting with an awkward laugh when another puppy tried to get into her lap. She tried to move the first one, but he wasn’t having it, so she reached out for the toy to squeeze it. It was, obviously, the wrong choice because that only made all of the puppies rush to her to try to take it. “Okay, okay, okay…” She repeated the same word countless times while trying to dodge all of the dogs jumping on her and, finally, she threw the toy away, which made all of the puppies run away to get it. “I don’t remember what was the question.”
“You were telling us what are your hobbies,” the interviewer reminded her.
“Oh, yes.” Elizabeth nodded and opened her mouth to reply, only to be jumped by the puppy with the red collar again. She tried to move out of the way, but that only made the dog fall with his paws almost inside of her shirt. “You like the inside of my shirt, I see. You would get along with my girlfriend just fine.”
The laugh that resonated around the room was the loudest it has been since the start of the interview and, even if you were one of the people laughing, you still tried to make yourself look smaller in your chair when everyone turned to look at you. You felt yourself blush and you met Elizabeth’s gaze again just to shake your head at her little joke, but she just laughed and then had to avoid another jumping puppy from hitting her face.
“Since you talked about her,” the interviewer started, “can you tell us about how things are going? You recently moved in together, yes?”
“We did,” your girlfriend replied with a more contained smile. Elizabeth didn’t have a problem talking about you during her interviews - she knew it was going to happen when you both decided to go public about your relationship - but she tried to avoid giving out many details and always tried to change the subject as fast as she could. “People always say we only know who someone really is when you have to share a house with them,” she joked. “But things are going great. Aside from the occasional wet towel on the bed, there hasn’t been any trouble.”
The interview continued after that with the same level of chaos. The dogs kept jumping on her or running around like crazy, there was a poop incident and even a moment where you were sure Elizabeth was regretting putting herself in that situation, but she managed to answer the questions and all the dogs - and Elizabeth - were alive in the end, which you counted as a victory.
Once the questions were over, someone asked Elizabeth to stay in her spot for just a few more minutes while they collected the dogs to take them away again. You had gotten up from your chair since you felt like you needed to stretch a little bit and you were about to pull out your phone to check the time when you saw three of the puppies running towards you while fighting over a toy. Without thinking twice, you sat down on the floor and quickly reached for the toy.
“Hey, now, don’t fight!” You said. They all started to jump to try to get it from you and you felt your legs and arms being scratched with their little sharp nails, but you didn’t mind. It wasn’t their fault and, honestly, you were almost used to that. “Play nice, kiddos,” you asked before throwing the toy away.
To your surprise, not all the puppies rushed to get it. The black puppy with the red collar, that had been among them, decided he wanted to climb your lap instead and that’s what the dog did with his wobbly legs and waggling tail. You laughed happily as you decided to help him by picking him up and pressing him against your chest while you brought your other hand to scratch behind his ear.
“You’re so cute,” you cooed before pressing a kiss on top of his head. In return, the puppy raised his head to lick your chin and you let him do it. “Do you like me? I also like you, boy.” As soon as you said that, though, you paused and picked him up with both hands so you could hold him in front of your face. “Wait, are you a boy?” You turned him a bit to take a look and gasped when you put the dog back against your chest. “You’re a girl! No wonder you were trying to look at Lizzie’s chest!” You declared while trying not to squeeze the dog too much. “I don’t blame you at all for that!”
No one would be able to tell if you were joking or not since you were being so serious while saying that, but thankfully everyone was too busy trying to pick up the running dogs or putting the equipment away before the wires got chewed or something. You didn’t move from where you were sitting playing with the cute puppy and letting her lick your hands and face while all the other dogs were picked one by one to be taken away. You could already feel your chest tighten with the prospect of letting the black puppy go as well, even if it sounded crazy that you had gotten attached to her so fast.
Since you were too busy cuddling the dog, you missed when Elizabeth got up and walked towards you, getting startled when her voice sounded just by your side. “Why is he so calm with you when he was trying to murder me a second ago?”
You looked up and your lips quickly curled in a smile when you saw Elizabeth standing there with her hands on her hips while trying to pretend to be mad. “She wasn’t trying to kill you, babe,” you defended the dog. “She was trying to show you love!”
“That’s some aggressive love,” Elizabeth scoffed.
You laughed. “Yes, because she’s a puppy. She has too much energy. They get calmer when they get older.” Just as you said that, you raised the dog to your eye level again and kissed its snout. “Right, little princess? With a few walks and a lot of plays, you will grow up to be a lazy dog.”
As if she could understand you, the dog barked and tried to lick you again. You cooed and hugged her, but, before you could say anything else, a man approached you while chasing another puppy. You decided to help him out by reaching out with your arm to stop the puppy from running past you, but you still didn’t let go of the dog in your lap.
“Thank you,” the man said as he leaned down to scoop the dog.
“Of course,” you replied before you saw another person bringing a cage. “Where are these cuties from?” You wondered when curiosity got the best of you.
“From a shelter, ma’am,” the first man answered.
“Oh, so they don’t have a family?”
“No, ma’am. Their first event will be this weekend. The shelter organizes a fair to try to find their animals some owners.”
You made up your mind before the man was even done talking. You knew it was insane to even think about it, but you couldn’t help. The puppy in your arms had already won your heart, you couldn’t deny it. Besides, you have been working from home since you got a new job and you certainly had the money to take care of a pet. It could work out perfectly.
Elizabeth seemed like she had read your mind because, when you slowly turned your head to look back at her, she was already shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Lizzie,” you tried to call out her nickname to soften her heart - exactly how you did it every time you were trying to get her to agree with something.
“No, Y/N.” Elizabeth kept her ground, firmly letting you know it was not going to happen. “We’re not taking a dog home with us.”
“But it’s not just a dog,” you complained while raising the puppy for her to see the cute little face. “It’s this little princess.”
“No,” she insisted. “No dogs. No little princess who tried to kill me either.”
“She didn’t try to kill you, I told you that,” you argued and then, because you could feel you were going to lose the argument, you went for your last weapon. A pout. “I promise you I will take care of her, you don’t even have to do anything! I will keep her fed and change the water, and take her for walks, and take her to the vet, all of it.”
“That’s not the problem, Y/N.” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m thinking about all of the mess. And the smell.” She added the last part while throwing a glance at the place where the puppies had pooped before, her nose scrunching adorably when she remembered the awful smell. “Look, I know you like animals, but we’re not getting a dog.”
“Lizzie,” you tried one more time, putting the dog down and pouting as well. It was now or never. “Pretty please? She won’t even get that big and we have so much space around the pool where she could run and play. We don’t need to let her go inside the house even.” Which you know was a little lie since you wouldn’t be able to keep the dog outside, but that was a problem you could solve later. “And I know you like animals, you just don’t… have much practice.”
“And I intend to keep that way.”
You sighed sadly at that and looked down at the dog who had gone oddly quiet during all of that conversation, as if she knew she shouldn’t interrupt. With a sniff, you leaned down to kiss the dog’s head before you let your cheek rest there. It was like saying goodbye to someone from your family.
��Oh, no, are you crying?” Elizabeth now sounded completely in panic, but you had your own emotions to deal with. You just shook your head, clearly lying since you could barely see anything after tears formed in your eyes, but you also didn’t want to seem stupid crying over it either. “No, my love, please don’t cry.” Elizabeth crouched in front of you and you briefly saw her wide green eyes staring at you like she had no idea what to do. “You can get a fish! What about that?”
“Okay,” you mumbled with a trembling voice without looking at her. You didn’t want a fish, although you couldn’t get enough energy to explain that to her. Besides, the lump in your throat wouldn’t allow you to form a phrase anyway.
“My love, please don’t be upset,” your girlfriend tried again, sadly this time. “I don’t like when you’re upset.” All you did was shrug. “I love you so much, my love, but-”
Before she could finish her explanation, the dog in your lap wailed so miserably that it made you hug her tighter and look at Elizabeth again.
Ironically, that’s what broke her.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and pinched her nose for a few seconds before she shook her head to herself. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” she whispered while staring at the ceiling above you and then she finally let out a sigh and looked at you. “Okay, fine, you can have the dog.”
“Oh, my God! Really?!” You didn’t wait for her confirmation. You just threw yourself at her, almost taking both of you to the ground, and started spreading kisses all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” you kept repeating it non-stop.
“Okay, okay.” She pushed you away when it became clear you wouldn’t stop anytime soon, just to raise her index finger while she started listing some rules that you both knew would eventually be broken. “The dog must stay outside, you will take full responsibility for it, you will have to figure out what to do when we decide to travel together, and the dog is gone if she ever causes a single leaf from my garden to break.” Then, Elizabeth turned her attention to the dog, pointing at the puppy and raising her eyebrows. “And I mean it.”
“Did you hear that, pup?” You asked the dog while pointedly ignoring what Elizabeth said. “You’re going home with us!”
The dog picked up on your happiness and started to jump in your arms while trying to lick both of you, but Elizabeth quickly moved away and got up. “God, it has been a second and I’m already regretting it.” Just when you were about to get worried she might change her mind, Elizabeth added: “Wait here, I will see what we need to do to take the dog home.”
“Wait, Lizzie,” you called her before she could take another step away and she turned around at you in expectation. “Come here.” She rolled her eyes, but did as you asked. “Closer.” Again. “Closer.”
“Only if I climb in your lap, but my seat has been taken.” Elizabeth glared at the dog, but you could see she didn’t mean anything by it.
You chuckled and raised your chin. Once again, your girlfriend rolled her eyes although she leaned down to give you a kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when she pulled away.
“You better,” Elizabeth replied with a huff.
“Really, I love you so much.” You pecked her lips one more time.
She sighed and kissed your forehead. “I love you too, my love.”
Elizabeth had just started to leave again when you asked: “Can we call her Wanda?”
“Don’t make me change my mind,” was the reply you got even if she didn’t even turn around to say it.
You only laughed and hugged the puppy again. You could convince her about the name too.
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bowlofsoob · 8 months
Text
TRUTH OR DRINK; CELEBRITY EDITION
choi soobin x gender neutral idol reader
idol au, established relationship
you, a soloist, go on the show truth or drink. for every question you can either answer it or take a shot. during the interview you hint at the fact that you may be in a relationship. it doesn’t take long for your fans to figure out who it is.
author’s notes: do u want a part two? i think a truth or drink with soobyn as a couple would be funny
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Welcome to Truth or Drink!
You: Hi, I’m Y’n and I’ll be playing Truth or Drink today! Can I take a shot to help my nerves?
Q: What is your recent single about?
You: So my new single, called Forbidden, is about two people being in love but not being allowed to express it. It can be interpreted in many ways, whether it’s because they’re gay, work together, or for other reasons that make them unable to show it. I’m glad to see that many fans loved it.
Q: Is there anyone who inspired it?
You: Well, a lot of things inspire my songs. So in a sense, yes!
Q: Have you ever hooked up with a fan?
You: Wow, we’re getting right into it. I honestly haven’t. I’ve seen their thirst tweets though. Also, seems to much of a hassle. Before the pants come off we’d have to sign so much paperwork. NDA!
Q: Have you ever hooked up with another idol?
You: Oh my god, you guys are so nosy! I’m going to pour myself a shot, which honestly answers the question…
Q: When have you hooked up with another idol?
You: This is basically the same question!
Q: Are you in a relationship?
You: *immediately takes a shot*
Crew: So… you are in one?
You: Hey, i took a shot so I don’t have to answer!
Q: An idol you are close to or want to get close to?
You: Oh, there’s a few people I have friend crushes on. It’s a little harder to make friends in my career. I would say I’m pretty close to Soobin of TXT. We work under the same company so I see him quite a bit since our schedules line up! I like to treat him to food and pinch his cheeks…
Q: Favorite song right now?
You: Skipping Stones and Chasing that feeling by TXT! I really love Soobin’s verse. Come and kiss me~
Q: Ideal type? Or someone who fits your ideal type?
You: Hmm, I like someone who is introverted but very outgoing around people they’re close with. I think those are the cutest people. Regarding physical features, I think anything is cute. But I really like it when they’re taller than me…oh! And dimples! Dimples are so cute.
Q: Who is someone you’d like to collaborate with?
You: Sooo many people. Hmm, TXT? I think that would be cool! Hit me up you guys.
Q: Fuck, Marry, or Kill…Soobin, Jungkook, and Nayeon?
You: I don’t feel like getting canceled today so I’ll just take a shot.
Q: Craziest fan interaction?
You: Most of them are respectful and sweet…but one time someone mailed me their underwear? My dog tried to eat it.
Q: When is your next album?
You: Soon! Later this month, I promise!
Thank you for joining us today!
You: Thank you for having me. To everyone watching, check out my single when you can~
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ja3hwa · 1 year
Note
Could you write something with san having a groping kink?
Red, Hot, And Wet.
「Word count」 : 661
-> Genre: Mature, Suggestive.
[Warnings] : Breast play. Body fluids. Humping. San is a bitch in heat. Swearing.
Note : I hope this is to your liking. ♡ I went a tiny bit overbaord, but eh. Hehe ♡♡
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Okay, but Imagine San is complaining to you, almost in a begging tone, to play with your breasts. It's like he has no other thoughts but titties. Like he needed them in order to breathe.
You are sitting in bed, readying to go to sleep for the night, but very whiny San has his head in your lap groaning and huffing. His hands are clawing at the sheets, kneading them like a cat. He would be whispering things like 'please baby, just for a few minutes' or 'come on let me feel my precious babies'. God, he is obsessed with your boobs. You are a walking stress toy to him, and he needed to use you to his advantage. So when you finally agree, it's like heaven's gates had opened.
His hands grab the hem on your shirt, tugging the fabric off quickly—cause it would just be in the way if it stayed on—. His hands fit so nicely on your chest. He can see some of your soft plump fat fit between his fingers as he squeezes. Your nipples are pressed against his palm, poking him. He pinches, jiggles, and tugs on your flesh. He seems to groan and whimper more than you as if he is enjoying it more than you. Well, that may be more true than one thinks. He starts to get rougher, pinching your nipples, pulling them tightly making you gasp out. He whimpers in response.
“let me suck them.” He said it so desperately, humping the bed like a dog in heat. He feels so overstimulated as you are, if not more. You needed to feel him every, not just on your breasts but inside you. He spread your legs wider so he could fit in between them, coming face to face with your plump tits. You let him have it, grasping his hair, tugging him closer. His lips latch on your left nipple, sucking harshly, making you let out a sharp, high-pitched moan. He moaned against your skin, swirling his tongue around your nub while he flicked your other nipple with his finger. He moaned against your skin, swirling his tongue around your nub while he flicked your other nipple with his finger. You whimpered at the painful pleasure, bucking your hips against his stomach. He felt himself coming just from his mouth being on you as he keeps rutting down. The feel of his length pressed between his legs and the mattress is too much and yet not enough. With you, the intensity of his orgasms doesn’t decrease. His white seed bursts from the head of his swollen cock each time, making his thighs and belly sticky and soaked.
“S-San…” You feel the pleasure snap up your spine like an electric wire hitting water. He switched breasts, suckling on the right one, leaving the left dark red and bruised. He felt like he was going crazy as if he was going to explode from just feeling his lips around your plump boobs before pulling away with an audible pop.
“I’m sorry baby. I said five minutes but I can’t need one more. Please, okay. Let me have one more minute. Can’t help myself, baby, you feel so soft on my tongue, I just wanna―” He’s sealed his lips around your nipples again, moaning loudly with you as he clamps down on your tit. "You got me horny and humping the bed like a bitch, fuck please baby. The things I want to do to you…”
“Fuck San!” You rasp out and he lets out a whine, pulling away and sitting back on his heels, giving you the perfect view of the mess he’s made, your eyes growing wide when you see him reaching down to stroke his still hard cock. His thighs and balls glisten with his arousal as he squeezes his shaft letting some more of his cum spill down.
“I fucking love you.” He panted.
-
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rookiesbookies · 6 months
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Hi i love the empress and male!concubines idea with the COD boys, I def think that it'll be interesting to see more hcs for this idea/au?
Alright my little anon. Truthfully I should have given more details in the og post (it also started as a rant about how I couldn’t handle a poly relationship because of my anxiety (I also saw a post about a girl who had 4 partners and didn’t get any attention and it made me sad so that's also way).) I have been stewing on this idea though so here’s some hc. Might do more if people are still interested in it or want more, I do love talking about my AUs (like this one and the Greek god one, so let me know if you want me to go more bc stuff like this rattles around my brain)
Also apparently there is a term for a male concubine and they’re called concubinatus or a concubinus. Honestly I took Latin and the fact I didn’t expect this lowkey brings me pain.
General HC?
The first empress in a long time. And the first empress to like her concubinuses (hope that's right) more than the idea of marrying for an emperor. So the council decided to bring you only the best warriors to keep. They of course still must serve occasionally but they have been elevated in status to there is lower risk anything will happen. Mostly kept as tacticians or kept to train the new boys joining the country’s military.
Konig and Krueger were taken as trophies of war for the Empress. They were two of the largest, smartest, and strongest men from the battlefield.
When the two were adjusting, it was difficult. The empress was gracious with them, mentioning how she wouldn’t dare make them do anything, apologizing for the war and the loss. Truthfully trying to get them comfortable, and the two were honestly shocked but I’ll get into that more in their sections.
Keegan was sent as a gift by a neighboring nation looking for peace and protection. He had a good time adjusting, sometimes making comments about how this treatment is too good for nasty military dogs like all of them but I’ll touch on that more later.
Price
Price was probably the first concubinus. He had been a strong warrior and was deemed by the council to be a good fit for what they were hoping for. He also, however, did not intend to retire from his position so they had to find an alternate reason to stop him from getting in trouble.
For him it was awkward. His empress was a bit younger than him, however he did crave to be a father. While the empress didn’t intend to fall pregnant yet, he would be on his best behavior when the opportunity came.
The chance to be the father of the next royal was something he couldn’t miss.
Soap
Both him and Gaz were best in their class, breaking records, so it only made sense it seems to send them to the empress once they got their prime years out of them.
He was probably the last concubinus to come in before the gift and the trophies of war. He has the more vicious puppy eyes. He waits for you like a dog every time you leave and enter. Always talks about how much more comfortable your bed is and how nice it is to lay with you. Definitely sweet talks you even though he’s already a concubinus.
Will literally do anything you say and it’s partially because he thinks he will get sent back to the military full time if he doesn’t.
Ghost
Definitely does checks on all the palace guards to make sure they’re up to spec. If even one slacks he uses his power to make them run.
This is all because of how gracious the empress has been with him. When he had a fit of ptsd (i'm thinking anxiety attack or something) she invited him into her room and away from the others so he didn’t feel embarrassed and comforted him as best she could before making him some tea. With an empire that stretches across Europe he was impressed she had the time to stop and care about a random concubinus.
Definitely was surprised he told you as much as he did and how you listened and comforted him. Telling him you’d never make him do anything he wasn’t comfortable with was something he appreciated.
Gaz
See the first paragraph of Soap’s bc Im not copying it again.
Since I feel like Gaz is the older of the two (he seems to have a maturity I dont see as much in Soap idk?) He was sent to her first of the two for his ‘semi-retirement’. Now they just need them to occasionally train incoming recruits.
He definitely enjoyed adjusting to the cushy life of the castle. He liked being able to keep his weapons since he did double as a personal guard for the empress. But he likes that he and the other concubinus get a hot tub more, definitely likes all the fancy clothes.
His job is the have sex with his sexy empress, what’s not to love?
Konig
Truthfully, when he was being cocky toward the other concubinus and you pulled him away into a separate room to tell him you knew he was compensating for his anxiety, he was more than shocked. He was stunned into silence.
So when you reached your hands under his hood and rubbed his cheeks, telling him it was ok and he didn’t need to act out, he melted. He had never truly been shown such softness, so to be shown it by the empress of the enemy? He was so conflicted. With a pat on his chest you told him he could take on his position fully when he was more comfortable and that you were concerned for him and there if he needed to talk. He was still quiet.
Krueger
Was not interested. No matter how many compliments you gave him or gifts you sent, he wouldn’t budge. He was grumpy and hostile. So much so he made the other concubinus nervous especially for you.
It wasn’t until you pulled him into your room that night that he relaxed quite a bit under your soft hands and apologies. Massaging his tired muscles, and lulling him into a sense of security. Now he understood how Konig folded so easily.
He offered to return the favor but you told him not until he was more comfortable and made him promise to play nice. He agreed but only to be a bit nicer.
Keegan
He honestly believes this treatment is too good for all of them. They were dogs of war, animals trained to kill, and now they’re dressed in fancy clothes? With an empress who dotes on them when they should be doting on her? Truthfully he baffles him. He isn’t ungrateful, he just didn’t expect to become a concubinus when sent here. He expected a joint military operation or to be a representative. He hit it off quickly with the group from the empire’s military.
The two from the war keep to themselves and the shorter one threatened to bite him.
Often feels the most out of place because he is the only one from his area, but he doesn’t complain. He gets nice gifts and is invited into your room pretty often, so he appreciates every moment. He wonders if it would be proper or allowed for him to get you gifts?
I was surprising more eager to write this ask than I thought. Let me know if yall want me to do formal parts to this? Maybe an actual fic for this au?
Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!
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ohbo-ohno · 7 months
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in reference to the last Serial Killer!Ghost Captive!Soap ask: first off, HOLY FUCKING CHRIST. Second: I’m already thinking about how a reader may factor in.
Maybe she’s there with her friends, partying it up in the woods by a bonfire, and everyone is too drunk to notice she wanders off after hearing some whimpering from the thicket. She stumbles on Soap, muzzled tight and filthy and frantic and cradling his twisted ankle, and knows something is seriously wrong.
Immediately she drops everything and starts trying to help. She asks him if he’s okay, what happened to him, don’t worry, she’ll get him out of that muzzle. She picks at it with her fingers and nearly gets it off before she hears and FEELS a gunshot whizz right past her head.
Ghost found them. And seeing this precious little thing trying to help his good boy, immediately putting herself in front of him to keep him safe if need be, makes him start to wonder if Johnny could use a friend. And he hoists his rifle again, misses on purpose to make her yelp, and watches her back into a tree while he checks on Johnny. His ankle is fine, just a bit sprained, he’ll be back on his feet in no time. But he’s whining and shaking his head, trying to plead with Ghost through the muzzle not to kill this kind stranger who almost cut him free. He doesn’t want to see her die!! And Ghost turns back to the Reader, trembling against the tree and trying to hide behind her arms, and he comes closer like the menacing brick shithouse he is and she nearly sobs and begs that she’ll do anything, god, just please don’t shoot her!!!!
Maybe Ghost goes and kills all her friends first, comes back to find her still curled up against that tree with Johnny next to her, and she screams when she sees him fucking drenched in blood. Or maybe he takes her home first, puts her and Johnny in a crate together and locks it to make sure they stay out of trouble, and then goes out for blood; maybe he comes back to them dragging the bodies of Reader’s friends and it’s all she can do to keep from passing out. Maybe she gets included in their little chase game later on…
~🦋
someday i'll write my actual serial killer au but it is NOT TODAY so let's indulge in some variances <3 (ask is referencing this post)
i don't usually puppify my reader inserts to the extent that i do soap but holy SHIT if this ask doesn't beg for a puppy reader
ghost hunting his hound down, finds his poor boy injured and what seems to be an equally feral girl standing above him, totally protective :/ even when soap tries to shover her away, she stays crouched in front of him, hardly even flinching at the gun in ghost's arms
and isn't that interesting? this little thing so eager to protect what's his? oh, ghost is hooked immediately. (what's better than one guard dog? two guard dogs!)
manages to finally scare her away from soap with a few well placed bullets, poor thing tries hard as she can not to go skittering away but instinct gets the best of her eventually. she's not quite brave enough to tackle ghost when he gets closer, but he sees her eying his gun. ghost is quick enough checking soap that she doesn't have a chance to try anything
he'd come with a leash for soap (always makes the man crawl back to the car after their little hunts, just to keep him in that puppy headspace so he doesn't start struggling) but doesn't have an extra. good news is, soap is so desperate to keep ghost from killing his new friend, he's perfectly willing to follow without the leash when ghost hooks his collar and leash on the new girl
she doesn't have a muzzle (ghost doesn't have an extra, and none of them would fit her anyway), so he ends up tugging this wriggling and shouting thing along while his pup stays right at his side, providing such a good example for their new pet. ghost is already planning his rewards
he tucks them both into johnny's crate after wrapping the pup's ankle. gives his new girl a bone to chew on (plugs her nose and stuffs the gag between her teeth, tightens it until she growls at him and then ruffles her hair, locks her hands into some paw gloves so she starts to understand what's happening) and covers the crate in a blanket. smiles when johnny looks up at him nervously and his girl tries to cover her fear with anger
takes about an hour to kill & get rid of all her little friends.
and oh how she howls when he comes back home without hosing himself down. she squirms and writhes, kicks johnny's ankle and goes still when he whimpers. ghost can't help but laugh when she taps her forehead to his, an apology. his pups already get along so well, he can't wait to see how she'll fare after a little training
it's about time he got soap a friend, anyways. pups are social creatures, and he knows johnny needs someone to play with when ghost's busy. the new pup showed up at just the right time <3
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nthspecialll · 11 days
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We have all seen the edits and drawings of Dutch with "I'm your man" by Mitiski, more specifically with the lyrics "you believe me like a god, I betray you like a man," but it is not just those lyrics that fits Dutch and practically the entirety of the gang.
(Warning I am not a huge Mitiski fan so I will just take the lyrics as they are without any deeper meaning and compare them to red dead to give them a deeper meaning)
While the whole "you believe me like a god" might make it sound like the "me" also sees themselves as a god as well or at least superior to the other party, that is not the case.
"You're an angel, I'm a dog
Or you're a dog and I'm your man."
This part hints at confusion between standing of the two parties. The "I" isn't sure about what their position is with the other party, either the "you" is an angel and themselves a dog, someone lesser, something lesser, or the "I" is a man and the "you" a dog. The "I" never put themselves as something eternal, they never claim to be unworldly or godly, instead they willingly put themselves underneath the "you" and only above them in the same way a man would an animal, a dynamic that while it might hold love also is clear on who is in control.
Dutch and Arthur's dynamic is constantly changing. On one hand, Arthur is a workhorse, the one Dutch sends our for his dirty work, the one Dutch knows he can control and make him do anything, on the other hand we have their family dynamic of Dutch saying that Arthur means more to him than what a son would and acting as if he is the best thing ever.
"You believe me like a god
I'll destroy you like I am."
While the "I" never sees themselves superior, the "you" puts the "I" on a pedestal, making them their god and the "I" takes advantage of that and destroys the "you." This is similar to Dutch and Arthur. Dutch was not a good man ever, while he and the others did do their Robinhood act, they were never good men, they killed, they robbed and they ruined, but Arthur saw Dutch as a god or a father more than a mere mentor and Dutch ruined Arthur for that in the end.
"I'm sorry I'm the one you love
No one will ever love me like you again."
The "I" knows they are bad, they know they are ruining the other and they know that they will never get the loyalty that the "you" gave them again. While this might not seem like Dutch and Arthur, it very much is in the end.
Dutch in the end when Arthur is dying seems angry, frustrated and conflicted, because while he is seeing his son dying, he knows there is something he does not know. While he feels angry that Arthur did what he did, he never did think Arthur was a "betrayer", he thought John was, he thought John was talking to the Pinkertons and had convinced Arthur that Dutch was bad. He felt sad that Arthur was dying because of John and his manipulation and he knows he will never find the loyalty Arthur gave him again from anyone, and he is right, even in 1911, he has yet to find someone like Arthur.
"So when you leave me, I should die
I deserve it, don't I?"
I am of the firm belief that Dutch spent a long while alone after Arthur's death because the newspapers while talking of him, do not mention another gang, only the old one, and in red dead one they speak as if Dutch's gang is fairly new which would also explain why the Agents were suddenly able to locate him, because he became active again.
This could be to lay low, or it could be because he was thinking over what he had done and what had happened, and considering how much Arthur meant to him it wouldnt be strange to say he might have spent some years in self hatred or pity.
"I can feel it gettin' near
Like flashlights comin' down the way
One day you'll figure me out
I'll meet judgment by the hounds."
This is where it gets a bit more tricky because I believe the "you" changes here, where "you" were Arthur before, it can now be seen as John.
In 1911 John is hunting down Javier and Bill, something Dutch no doubt knew and heard about, while he might have hoped to be able to defeat John, he would have known that John would come for him and he would be able to "see him come near" as he kills off the two others. Dutch knows one day John will be his end, one day John will figure him out and he will have to face the consequences of his actions.
"People always gave me love
Others were never to blame after all."
This is quite obvious how it comes to Dutch, they gave Dutch everything, they gave him their lives to lay if he so wish and in the end it was not their fault that the gang split up. No it was not Micah's fault, while Micah did manipulate, he never forced Dutch's hand, even without Micah Dutch would have lost himself down the road, it was in the end Dutch's fault.
"You believe me like a god
I'll betray you like a man."
John loved Dutch, maybe even more than Arthur, after all John is often seen as Dutch's son while Arthur is seen as Hosea's, not just by the fandom but the characters as well. We see characters call John Dutch's golden boy and his pet. It was also Arthur who had to convince John and truly let him see what Dutch was doing, to let him know that the concerns he had were true.
Dutch removed the noose from John's neck when John was twelve, saving him like a miracle, yet Dutch shot at John in the end like he was no one special, just another man to be put in the ground.
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