#feel free to rb and/or tell me why

[wekillitwithfire]

realized something today, time for another poll

i'll define regularly as like. multiple times a week, or at least half the time when you leave the house

[cannibal-nightmares]

"I wish I could live like there was nothing to hide Will you stay or will you turn away from me like them When you start to understand how cynical I am?"

[ x ]

[the-golden-dragoness]

Does anyone know how to maneuver a relationship where they are interested in dating you but you were fine being old school acquaintances who don’t speak to each other

[a-s-levynn]

"Even if the sky cracks in mourning / And the heavens just won't open up for me" A Series of Small Offerings - II/12 - day20

[t4tails]

i kind of want to know why ppl choose their fursona's animal. like im a little mouse lemur because im a small monkey freak and think having hands for feet would be really cool. do other ppl just choose their favorite animal. is that why theres so many wolves and cats

[tardis--dreams]

One thing you need to know about me is that I will never reblog anything that has the addition "this should be reblogged by everyone" or anything of the like.

[ravengards-rogue]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[snowy-vee]

ALL MINE Pt.1 (E.W ff)

oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader

n/a: English is not my first language, any misspelling will be corrected later on, also, please feel free to leave a comment and rb!!

Pt.2 Here

Inform yourself about what's happening and how to help! FREE PALESTINE, FREE CONGO.

“Bye, girls!” you waved to the cheer team before getting into Ellie’s car, greeting her with a small ‘hi’ and a kiss on her cheek. “Why weren’t you at cheer practice? I missed you looking at me from the bleachers like a little stalker,” you giggle, grabbing her phone to put music to your liking.

“I don’t look like a stalker... Do I? I don't,” she said quietly, and you laughed again. “Anyway, I was doing a project, and I didn’t notice how late it was until you called me to pick you up.”

She started the car and began to drive home. You were both roommates in an off-campus flat, and since Ellie was the only one with a licence, it was common for her to drive you everywhere and pick you up.

You kept looking for a good playlist while ‘Too Fast’ by Sonder was playing when a notification came in. You blinked twice, thinking you might have seen something wrong, but the message from Dina saying she had a good time was still there.

“Dina was your partner for the project?”

“Yes, why? She is very nice; I wonder why I’ve never spoken to her; she’s got a good vibe.”

“Yeah, but isn’t she kind of a loser? I mean, the only interesting thing about her is that she dated Jesse.” You scoffed. The ugly look she gave you after that was enough to make you stop laughing. “I don’t mean it in a bad way! Just saying that you might not want to hang out with her that much.”

“I am a loser too; shouldn’t I be hanging out with my kind of people?”

“You’re not a loser! You just have different interests than the rest of our friends—"

“Your friends"

"My friends, whatever, you hang out with me; that gives you some status and makes you not a total loser but a partial one.”

Ellie rolled her eyes as she parked the car, grabbed her backpack from the back seat, and got out without opening your door, as she usually does. You opened your mouth a little offended and got out too.

“Els! Come on, don’t get angry. I’ll cook dinner, yeah?” You tried to apologise, but she had already locked herself in her room. You snorted, throwing your bag on your bed and then throwing yourself off too.

You and Ellie had been best friends since middle school. You came in as the new girl and soon caught the attention of many, but Ellie was the only one who made you feel comfortable in every way. You were always together and inseparable until high school, when you decided to become a cheerleader, and that’s when the distinction between you and Ellie began.

Although you tried to make time for her or integrate her into the “Populars” group, it didn’t work out, and it was obvious that it made both parties uncomfortable, so the only times you shared space together were at parties or break time. Ellie had friends, not counting the online ones, but for her, they were more like classmates, so she barely spent time with them.

It doesn’t matter; you were going to sleep and apologise in the morning—that is, until, coming out of the bathroom after taking a good shower and changing into your pyjamas, you heard giggles and voices from Ellie’s room.

Was she laughing with Dina? How was it possible that they were already at the level of making video calls? Was there something else she wasn’t telling you? No, you were best friends; you told each other everything.

“Els, I’m going to make instant ramen; do you want the chicken one or?” You opened the door without knocking first to confirm your suspicions, and yes, it was Dina on the other side of the phone. You could see her face and how her smile slowly faded. “Oh, hi, Dina.”

"Hi,” she said softly. “Well, I’m going to have dinner too; talk to you later, Ellie.”

“Yeah, okay, bye, Dina." Ellie smiled, hanging up. She woke up from her bed and nodded in your direction. “I want chicken ramen; I’ll go shower real quick.”

She was still annoyed with you; you could feel it, so that meant you had to apologise tonight.

Your cooking skills were not the best; it was strange that you touched the stove burners, mostly because Ellie did. Talking about the Queen of Rome, there she was standing in her black pyjama pants and sports bra. She was drying her short hair as she watched you cook.  

"Can I help you with something?" She asked, but you refused. You were almost done; you just needed to put the food on the plates. You left the dishes on the table in the living room. "Actually, I was planning to eat in my room today."  

"Ellie, please... I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk like that about your  friends." You started apologising by grabbing her hand and leading her to the couch. "Forgive me, yes? I hate that we're upset about something so small."  

"Ugh, I hate that I can't be mad at you for too long." You squealed with excitement, and before you knew it, you both had finished eating and were now sharing a blanket on the couch while watching a movie.   Your head was resting on her shoulder, and although it was a comfortable position, it got on your nerves that Ellie was on her phone, sending messages and giggling from time to time. It was driving you crazy.

You cleared your throat as you got off the couch. "I'm going to sleep; tomorrow will be a busy day," you said.  

"But the movie isn't over yet," Ellie protested, looking at you with those beautiful eyes of hers. For a moment, you were about to stay, but Ding! Another notification caused her to divert your attention to her phone again.  

"No, I don't want dark circles under my eyes."  

"Wait, one thing..."  

"What?"  

"Tomorrow, where was that party?" you frowned at her question, confused that she's asking about a party.  

"Uh... at the same frat house where we went for the Halloween party, why?"  

"Yes, but can you send me the address?"  

"Yes, but why? You said you didn't want to come, remember?"  

"I know, but you're going to drag me anyway, and Dina said she wanted to come, so I won't be alone."  

"You're never alone; I'm with you," you replied. Ellie raised an eyebrow as she looked at you. "Most of the time, I'm with you, Ellie!"  

"I know! I appreciate it, but... I think I want to get to know Dina more, if you know what I mean." Her cheeks began to redden, and she had a shy smile as she looked at her phone.   That made your stomach churn.

You nodded and couldn't help but let out an incredulous chuckle that went unnoticed by her. "I'll send you the location tomorrow, Els."  

"Great, you're the best; I love you."  

"Me too, get a good night's rest," you said, walking down the hallway to your room. You looked once more at Ellie before entering, still hooked on her phone.   You definitely had to get rid of Dina.  

You didn't have a problem with sharing other things, but Ellie? No way; she was yours, all yours.

[maibeenot]

Last one about TUA season 4, for now.

(I talked about this in the tags of one of my RBs before but I wanted to elaborate)

I don't like how they keep trying to make Five a badass.

I find it especially frustrating as doing this constantly, bogs down any form of character development we could've had from Five.

For whatever reason, the writers seem to be allergic to acknowledging Five's biggest character flaw, his arrogance. Five always has to be right. He always has to be capable of everything and never needs any help. Despite the fact that Diego also has a very similar flaw (and is punished for it consistently), Five's seems to go completely untouched.

(A part of me thinks that the reason why they punish Diego so much more is because he comes off as the hot-headed impulsive one. While that's true, it certainly doesn't negate Five's ability to make mistakes or be incompetent)

Instead, they keep trying to invent a new flaw for Five in that; he is obsessed with the apocalypse. In reality, he's not obsessed with the apocalypse. He's obsessed with keeping his family safe. It just so happens that their most immediate threat (in his eyes) tends to be the apocalypse. (I really don't understand what they're trying to get at with this, especially considering the fact that he already has an extremely apparent flaw)

While this isn't an issue I take with season 4 specifically, it has definitely amplified this issue like crazy. Five's arrogance is vaguely addressed by his siblings in season 1, but it never seems to get him in trouble? Or at least he doesn't seem to have learned from it (except for the time-travelling thing from when he was 13, and when he bled out also in season 1)

Season 1 (and 2) handled it the best out of the four. Five never seems to ask for or accept help unless backed into a corner (telling Viktor about the apocalypse, asking Klaus to help him get the prosthetic eye). Or if he is literally incoherent or unconscious (him passing out from blood loss, him being drunk and telling Diego and Luther about what's happening).

And outside of that, Five's arrogance still had brutal consequences within this season (him not noticing Viktor's declining mental state because he was so sure about the apocalypse (but this was partially because this man tunnel-visions like crazy)).

(there are probably more instances of this with s1 & 2, i just can't think of them off the top of my head so tag them if you'd like)

Season 4 is extra mean with this. From the 'Five getting to work for the CIA at 19' to 'Five randomly figuring out what's causing the end of the world with a bunch of other Five's' while he was off moping.

And when he does make mistakes, it's not because he's actually not capable of everything and anything.

Noooo, Ben really really sneakily stole the marigold and spiked the sake. Five couldn't have possibly noticed. (and none of the other siblings for that matter)

Noooo, it's because Luther is actually super smart in figuring out that Five's boss is a Keeper (no shade to Luther btw, I like him. They just don't treat this moment as Five being a complete dumbass).

Oh no! Five (and Lila) can't figure out a way back from the metro! Never mind, another Five managed it.

Five being a homewrecker? That's him being an asshole, not incompetent so it doesn't count (lighthearted).

Five's arrogance one of his defining flaws, yet it's not really challenged. The fact that he gets away with a lot of bullshit is simply because he can! When he doesn't face failure, he doesn't find growth. He doesn't learn to stop being self-destructive just because he thinks he can do anything. He doesn't learn to reach out.

This stunt in growth is obviously not only present in Five but also everyone else. I just find his to be particularly grating since he's my favorite.

Feel free to add your thoughts to this, not just about Five's fucked up character growth but everyone else's too!

(I'll make long a ass post/video essay going into detail about all of them one of these days)

I'd love to read them :)

[suiana]

yo i saw ur rb && feel free to write about the renting concept!!! if u do pls tag me i’d love to see <33 😋

😻😻 rhanks genie

(yandere! rental boyfriend x gn! reader) (shitpost kinda) (concept based on this post)

you know, it's not like you were ugly, dumb or poor. in fact, you consider yourself rather attractive, smart and quite rich. but it seems that no one has noticed that which... might've been why you were single for a very long period of time.

very meaning from when you were born up until recently.

you had always desired for a relationship. wanting to experience the joys of love, the romance, the contentment you get whenever you're with that special someone.

unfortunately you never got to experience that. never. even after putting down your dignity and renting a boyfriend.

you had rented a rather pretty looking guy from this... dodgy website called 'rent-a-darling'? was that the name? it probably is. what a weird website it's called. anyways, it was basically a rental boyfriend/girlfriend website and you had absolutely struck gold with it.

perfect face, perfect body, incredibly intelligent... he was basically a work of art. and his personality wasn't half that bad either! he cracked jokes and they were entertaining enough! he made you laugh, feel better about your miserable love life...

but he just wasn't it.

so you decided to end contact with him. there was no point in continuing that rental service anyways. it's not like he'd like you back even if you fell for him.

except that was exactly what happened?? a few days after you officially ended your contact with your absolute god of a rental boyfriend, he showed up at your doorstep, panting as a lovesick look paints his beautiful features.

you were concerned to say the least. after all, you had never seen him act in such a way before. which was why you allowed him in... which led you to your current situation which was far from ideal.

"could you let me go please? my arms are sore..."

"you know, you're really cute like this."

you merely sigh in response, looking away as you grow awkward under his obsessed gaze. this has been the fifth day since he tied you up, only allowing you to leave the bed for meals and the toilet.

and in those five days he's openly admitted to be in love with you.

while it was nice and endearing to hear such words, you only wish it was from someone you actually loved back. and maybe not as crazy as this guy was.

"can you please let me go? do you want money or something? i can give it to you-"

"what i want is your love, and that cannot be bought with money."

he interjects promptly, still smiling at you with his pearly white teeth which were honestly starting to creep you out. why were they so white? why was he so objectively perfect? and why was he madly obsessed with you?

"hey can i just ask something? why are you so obsessed? like just why."

he pauses for a second, hummung contently as he shuts his eyes for a bit.

"I'm not sure why,"

his eyes open again and he continues his sentence. this time, you can't help but feel an impending sense of dread in your gut when he speaks.

"i guess i just really adore you."

he then giggles oddly, tugging at your bedsheets as his face nears yours.

"you complete me, my love."

you grimace as his face nears yours. ugh, what you wanted was that lovey dovey shit you saw on television. not whatever this was. kidnapping and constant moans of how your captor loves you.

but oh well, it is a relationship. just not the one you wanted. maybe you could learn to deal with it-

"darling! if you tell me how much you love me, block everyone else you know, leave your job, and promise to run away with me, I'll untie you! how about it?"

...yeah, you're not dealing with this. perhaps you're just not meant for love.

[tom-is-online]

another pure curiosity poll. also feel free to tell me why in rbs or comments cuz i would like to know :)

[regressor-wicked]

agere headcanon ask game !

seen a few of these go around and i thought i'd try my hands at making my own! just send me a character and a number :) feel free to rb and do this yourself!

how did they find out about age regression? did they stumble upon it online? did a friend tell them about it?

do they have a specific age or range they regress to, or do they just go off vibes?

why do they regress? is it trauma or stress related? do they regress to go back to simpler times, or to create new memories? what causes them to regress?

is their regression more voluntary or involuntary? do they ever regress without realizing it?

do they ever find themselves only regressing partially, or do they fully drop when they regress?

are they a stuffie or a blankie kid? both? neither?

do they have a caregiver? are they a caregiver/flip?

in what ways are they different when they're regressed? do aspects of their personality or interests change at all? are they similar to how they were when they were an actual kid, or completely different?

do they identify with any specific labels (regressor, flip, pet regressor, etc.)?

do they have any regression gear (teethers, pacifiers, diapers, specific toys or outfits, etc.)? do they try to hide it from friends/family?

do they fall into any 'regressor stereotypes' (baby talk, loving disney movies, liking pastels, etc.), or do they diverge from the 'norm' (liking horror media, regressing to an older age, etc.)?

do they have any specific nicknames for when they regress? how about nicknames they've given to their caregiver(s) or friends?

what do they like to do when they're regressed? do they like to play pretend, watch tv/movies, color, etc.?

what kind of snacks/drinks do they gravitate towards when regressed? do they use a sippy cup or bottle? how about those little divider plates/trays?

what do they wear when they're regressed? do they have specific clothes, or do they just wear whatever is most comfortable? do they have a comfort article of clothing?

where do they tend to regress? do they mostly regress at home, at the park, at a specific friend's house? do they have a specific place they like to go once they're regressed?

do they prefer to play indoors or outdoors? do they get upset when it rains?

do they take naps? if so, do they take them at a specific time, or just nap whenever they feel like it? do they get fussy over having to take one?

what kind of things do you associate with their regression? is their a specific aesthetic or general 'vibe' you think suits them and their regression?

what is age regression to them? what do they like/dislike? are they proud of their regression, or feel a bit more insecure about it?

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Stuck (Mahito x Reader)

Contains: Rape, stuck in a wall, piv sex, body horror, multiple limbs.

Yo long time no see Mahito x reader fans, I admit sometimes I get far too excited to write him with Kenjaku I forget that he needs his own spotlight sometimes too. Going through some weird things irl as well so it was nice to be able to let out some of my feelings with this one, hopefully its enjoyable! Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twitter at kenjakusbrain! Comment or rb if you like or have any thoughts <3

You regretted the split second detour as soon as you made it to the end of the dark alleyway. It was late and you didn’t normally take this way home, how were you supposed to know the alley was a dead end? A large man had been following you ever since you left the movie theater. You’d been foolish enough to try and tell him to leave you alone, which had only egged him on further. 

In an attempt to get away, you ducked into an alley. Quickly running to the end of it, before you realized it was a brick wall. It was far too tall for you to climb, especially with nothing to stand on, but you could see some light shining through from a hole about waist height. It was definitely too small to fit through, but as you heard heavy footsteps in the darkness behind you, you pushed away those thoughts.

Forcing your arm and head through the hole, you violently clawed at anything on the other side for leverage. Hand finding what you imagined to be a dumpster handle, you forced your other arm through, ignoring a crack in your shoulder. You could deal with a dislocated shoulder later.

Pain rushed through your body but it was drowned out by the adrenaline. You continued to force your body through the tight hole. Only pausing when you heard the man behind you begin to speak, words almost unintelligible, but it definitely sounded like he was arguing with someone. Perhaps someone was around to save you after all. Regardless, you still wanted to get out.

Half of you had made it through, your arms and head on one side, hips and legs on the other. Not much further to go, you thought as you attempted to get your hips to fit. 

They wouldn’t budge. 

Frantically you tried to force your way through, clawing and kicking to move your body forward, but nothing seemed to work.

The sound of flesh hitting pavement pulled your attention from trying to free yourself. A soft giggle sounded behind you, definitely not from the man who’d been pursuing you. Had you been saved?

“Hello?” You called out, unsure if you would even receive an answer.

The only response you received was a hand resting on the small of your back. Even though the gesture was not violent, it still startled you. You kicked back reflexively, but before your foot made contact with anyone, it was caught. The feeling of your leg being lifted into the air made you panic further, you could feel the material of your skirt bunching up around your hips.

“Why are you trying to go through the wall? Is that some silly human game?” A soft voice asked from behind you. He wasn’t quiet, but the intonation of the questions sounded curious, like a child asking why about some mundane thing they just didn’t understand yet.

You tried to get control of your leg back, but you could feel the hands wrapped around your ankle were strong. It didn’t make sense to you that this person could have dispatched the man that was following you and still be confused about why you were stuck like this. And what did he mean by ‘human’?

“That person was chasing me, he isn’t still there is he? It sounded like he got knocked out. I’m stuck now. Can you please help me out?” Your words ran together as you frantically tried to explain and ask questions at the same time. It should have been obvious that you were trying to escape. 

Another soft laugh echoed off the walls around you. It made your skin crawl, something had seemed off ever since you started interacting with this mystery person, even if they did save you, there was something definitely wrong with this.

“The big man? Oh you don’t need to worry about him at all, he’s in my pocket now and can’t hurt you. I could get you unstuck really easily, but it might make you sweat more than it sounds like you already are,” The man said, his words only making the situation more confusing. Nothing that he said reassured you at all, neither did the second set of hands picking up your other leg.

Even if you had been talking to only one person, the hands on your other leg made your guts twist with anxiety. Maybe you hit your head and all of this was a strange nightmare that your mind had cooked up?

You opened your mouth to ask a question, but the words were cut off by a scream as your legs were spread fully, exposing you to the person, or people, behind you. 

Before you even had the chance to beg for help or call out to maybe urge someone closer, you felt the wall you were stuck in tremble as if it had been struck by something heavy. Much to your surprise, a hand came from behind you, wrapping around your lips. 

You could make out enough of the arm in the dark to know that it was freakishly long, even ignoring the fact that it had come through the wall. The fact that you could see the elbow in front of you made your mind hazy, no wonder the thing had referred to you as a human, because he couldn’t be! Even if the fingers felt human and the skin looked normal, it had to be twice the length of a human arm or more, not to mention the strange stitch like markings covering the skin. 

“Geto said I need to get better at working with humans so he can try making more cursed womb paintings and you’re in the perfect position to practice. I hope you don’t mind that I want to get some practice alone, he says I’m usually too sensitive and finish too quickly,” The man, monster, whatever was behind you said. None of the words made sense to you other than being in a position to practice. 

This is what you had been trying to escape in fitting yourself in this hole, and yet you’d only gotten yourself into an even worse situation. Maybe if you were lucky the person would put you out of your misery after. 

Now that you were sure that it was just one person behind you, the feeling of another hand reaching out to rip your panties off of you was more frightening. There were far too many hands involved for this to be anything other than a monster. 

“Wow! You’re already so slick down here! Geto said humans only get like this when they’re excited, so maybe you like this more than it seems!” His excited words made you cringe internally. You mentally cursed whoever this ‘Geto’ he was referring to was.

The fingers that had ripped your panties now slid between your soaked folds easily. You didn’t know why you were so wet but you hated yourself for it. The tips of his fingers stroking against your clit made a spike of pleasure cut through the fear and anxiety filling you. 

He didn’t waste time teasing you for long, though. The fingers traced up, slipping around your entrance for just a second before they were replaced by the blunt head of the man’s cock. You squirmed in an attempt to get away, but you already knew the movement would do nothing for you. 

It didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated when he pressed himself into you. His size must have been below average as it barely felt like he was sticking two fingers inside. A dark moment of reprieve filled you, it could always be worse, you thought. The ache in your thighs hurt more than the stretch in your pussy as he started to slowly thrust.

Relief only lasted for a moment however, as you suddenly felt something else inside of you. It was as if with each thrust inside of you his cock grew in size. Different than if he were just getting harder. Somehow it was as if he could change his shape at will, the stretch that hadn’t bothered you before was now burning as he pressed his large, throbbing cock inside you.

Suddenly, you could feel everything, every vein on his cock filling you up so completely that you thought you’d burst. Another scream threatened to escape, but the hand on your lips kept any sound from getting out. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as his thrusting continued. 

You could barely make out the sound of whiny moaning through the wall. It seemed like you weren’t the only one that was feeling more than they had expected from this. The hands on each of your legs were squeezing tighter with every thrust, your feet had started to feel almost numb. You could only hope the numb feeling would spread.

The monster’s thrusts were hard to anticipate, it was like he was moving on instinct without any rhythm or method to the way he fucked into you. It was hard to anticipate when the next thrust would come as his hips changed pace constantly. One thrust was hard and deep, the next shallow and slow. 

It was clear he was chasing only his pleasure. 

Tears slid down your cheeks as he continued fucking you, you hated how good it felt when the thrusts weren’t too hard. Being so full did hurt, but whenever the thrusts slowed down it almost felt perfect. The slow drag of his thick cock, if this were any other situation, you were sure that you would be screaming in pleasure instead.

It wasn’t long before his thrusts became even more inconsistent, as if he were losing control. His whining moans sounded even more desperate. Only a few more deep thrusts before he pressed himself all the way into you, filling you to the brim before releasing deep inside of you. 

You were stuffed so full you could feel each spurt of his cum inside you, and even feel it leaking out of your body around his cock.

He pulled out quickly, dropping your legs as he moved. The hand that covered your mouth patted your cheek before being pulled back through the hole. Before you could even think to say anything, you heard a noise from above you. Craning your neck you watched a normal looking man jump down in front of you.

As he turned to face you, you noted the stitches on his face matching the ones on the strange arm that had held your mouth closed. Only, he looked normal, his arms were proportionate, everything about him was like that of a normal human, including the two arms with only two hands despite how many hands you had felt.

The stress of the night had finally become too much for you, as he leaned in to say something, you felt your consciousness leave you.

[fourkisses]

i stare at the crash (it actually works) ✷

a cs55 written-smau series where . . .

carlos sainz signs with porsche after getting ditched by ferrari only to find himself in a heated rivalry with his teammate, the only female driver on the grid. oh, and did i mention she's also his ex-girlfriend?

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!porsche driver!reader

warnings: n/a

a/n: did ya'll know tumblr has a 1,000 block limit for every post? yeah, bc i just did. pain.

ᯓ★ PART THREE: THE GOOD OLD DAYS

twelve years ago . . .

Red Bull Racing HQ     •     May 2013

Y/N

Well that was an experience.

CARLOS

Told you it was hard, didn’t I?

Y/N

I never said being in the simulator was hard.

CARLOS

Err, what?

Y/N

I said it was an experience? I don't know what hard you're talking about because I actually had fun?

CARLOS

Boo. Liar.

Y/N

Yeah, right.

Y/N

Whatever fits your narrative, Sainz.

CARLOS

Thank you.

CARLOS

You know, Dan was looking for you earlier.

Y/N

Oh, shit. Right.

Y/N

Do you know where he is?

CARLOS

I think he left for the wind tunnel this morning.

Y/N

Oh, okay. Thanks!

CARLOS

That's it?

CARLOS

She really just left? No goodbyes?

CARLOS

Unbelievable woman.

RB DEVELOPMENT ENGINEER

Hey, Carlos. Have you seen Y/N?

CARLOS

She just left. Did not even say a word.

RB DEVELOPMENT ENGINEER

Oh, okay.

RB DEVELOPMENT ENGINEER

Tell her Dr. Marko wants her to come up to his office when she comes back.

CARLOS

What?

CARLOS

Why? Is she finally in trouble?

RB DEVELOPMENT ENGINEER

Trouble? Oh, no, silly man!

RB DEVELOPMENT ENGINEER

She just set the fastest lap time ever recorded on the sim today, that's why.

RBR HQ Training Facility   •     August 2013

Y/N

I feel like I’m not gonna come out of this alive.

CARLOS

It’s just a warm-up, Y/N. Stop overreacting.

Y/N

Eugh.

Y/N

I want to go home.

Y/N

Why are weights so fucking heavy anyway?

Y/N

Someone really needs to invent weights that aren’t heavy.

CARLOS

God, you’re one hopeless woman. 

Y/N

Damn right I am. Now can you please help me out with this thing?

Y/N

And stop staring at my ass.

CARLOS

Hey! I'm not!

Y/N

Yeah right. Just because I stare at yours doesn't mean you can do it too, ya know.

CARLOS

Huh?

CARLOS

Wait, what?!

Great Gelato    •     February 2014

Y/N

What's your target team? Like, the one you aim to drive for when you climb up to F1?

CARLOS

My target team? Hmm.

CARLOS

I don’t really know.

CARLOS

Probably Ferrari?

CARLOS

I mean, who doesn’t want to drive for Ferrari, right?

CARLOS

Yours?

Y/N

Same answer.

Y/N

Ferrari has just always been THE dream, you know.

Y/N

Ask a child to draw a car . . .

CARLOS

. . . and he certainly will color it red.

CARLOS

You know, maybe we’ll get to drive for them. In the future.

CARLOS

We might even become teammates. You and me in red jumpsuits and all that. 

Y/N

Oooh. That’s hot.

CARLOS

Agree.

Y/N

Someday.

CARLOS

Someday.

Red Bull Racing HQ     •     June 2014

CARLOS

Prom? Really, Y/N?

Y/N

Why are you laughing?

Y/N

You're making fun of my dreams.

Y/N

I'm hurt. 

CARLOS

No– I'm sorry! 

CARLOS

It's just that . . . I don't know.

CARLOS

Most people would answer an actual place, like Paris or something . . .

Y/N

Well, the question says, 'Where have you always dreamed of going?'. Doesn't necessarily mean I have to answer a country.

CARLOS

So you really want to go to prom?

Y/N

I mean, who doesn't? 

Y/N

I've seen my friends online post themselves going and having fun.

Y/N

I just think it's the ultimate teenage experience.

Y/N

Also, it's a great excuse to dress up and feel pretty.

Y/N

Hey, Carlos?

Y/N

Yoo-hoo!

Y/N

Why are you staring at me like that?

CARLOS

Ay, sorry.

CARLOS

It's nothing.

CARLOS

Are you free this Saturday?

Y/N

Err, I think so? We don't have training that day, right?

Y/N

Why?

CARLOS

Let's go to prom.

Y/L/N Residence   •  June 2014, 7:15 PM

Y/N

Oh my god, it's the dress, right?

Y/N

I knew it. Should've known white is a no from the get-go.

Y/N

Or is it the make-up?

Y/N

Too heavy?

Y/N

Hey, Carlos!

Y/N

Why aren't you answering me?

Y/N

Carlos?

Y/N

Okay, that's it. I'm going to change. 

Y/N

Give me three minutes.

CARLOS

No! Wait, Y/N!

CARLOS

There’s nothing wrong.

CARLOS

You're just . . .

CARLOS

Wow.

CARLOS

Pareces un ángel.

You look like an angel.

Y/N

Oh.

Y/N

Thank you. . .

Y/N

You look quite dashing yourself.

CARLOS

Gracias, mi señora.

Thank you, m'lady.

CARLOS

So, shall we?

Y/N

Yes!

Y/N

Damn. We're really gonna crash a prom tonight.

CARLOS

At least it's not cars we're crashing.

Y/N

Pfft. Haha.

Y/N

You're right.

Y/N

At least it's not a car!

Kent Hills Park School  •  June 2015, 9:23 PM

Y/N

No way.

Y/N

I really love this song.

CARLOS

I know, I know.

CARLOS

That's exactly why it's playing right now.

Y/N

Wait, don't tell me—

CARLOS

Yes. Yes I did.

Y/N

OH. Oh my god.

Y/N

What did you sacrifice? A tooth? A kidney? Your appendix?

CARLOS

Eh. Just five bucks, don't worry.

CARLOS 

Now, Y/N Y/L/N, can I have this dance?

I do my Sunday dreaming / And all my Sunday scheming / Every minute, every hour, every day

Y/N

This is the best I can do when it comes to ballroom dancing.

CARLOS

Don't worry, we're on the same page.

Y/N 

You know, all this slow swaying really is a nice shift from all the speed on track.

CARLOS

Yeah.

CARLOS

I'm actually starting to like it.

And my arms need someone / Someone to enfold / To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

CARLOS

Hey, Y/N?

Y/N

Hmm?

CARLOS

This is going to sound crazy, but . . .

CARLOS

I want to be your Sunday.

CARLOS

Can I be your Sunday?

Y/N

Excuse me. . . my what?

CARLOS

Your Sunday kind of love.

Y/N

Eeeek.

Y/N

That’s so cheesy.

CARLOS

I'm being serious?

Y/N

Oof. Well. . .

Y/N

I guess you can be my Sunday.

Y/N

And Monday.

Y/N

And Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday and Friday and Saturday.

Y/N

Will that be okay?

CARLOS

So what, I'm going to be like an everyday kind of love?

Y/N

Yup. I guess you could say that.

Y/N

My everyday kind of love.

CARLOS

Tsk. And you're saying mine was cheesy?

Y/N

. . . .

CARLOS

Ay dios, you're blushing!

Y/N

I'm NOT blushing.

CARLOS

That's not what I'm seeing at the moment though . . .

CARLOS

What make-up brand do you use? It's really pigmented.

Y/N

Shut uppp.

CARLOS 

No, because it's sooo red. 

CARLOS

I kinda want one for myself too.

Y/N

Stop it, Sainz! Or else.

CARLOS

Or else what?

CARLOS

You're going to tape my mouth again?

CARLOS

We’re in a public high school. Where are you even gonna get tape? Inside the classrooms? What, you're gonna break in? Y/N, I don't know if you know but that's illeg—

Y/N

There you go.

Y/N

Oof. Carlos?

Y/N

Hello?

Y/N 

What, you're forever not gonna speak a word now?

CARLOS

. . . .

CARLOS

That’s definitely one way to shut me up.

Y/N

Yeah? Thought so.

Y/N

And hey, look! Now you're blushing too.

CARLOS

Haha. Couple goals?

I want a Sunday, Sunday / I want a Sunday kind of love / Oh, yeah / Sunday, Sunday, Sunday kind of love

← previous part next part →

[lelengerine]

...another kimchi jiggae?

pairing | bf!hyuck x reader

genre | christmas szn au (?), a lot of domestic fluff, haechan kimchi jiggae lover agenda is thriving, no pronouns are explicitly used, lmk if i missed anything!

wc | 0.3k

notes | a little break from completing my reqs >< i made this really quick because it finally feels like christmas season to me?? idk why it took so long for me to feel it but anw... this is inspired by that vid of him cooking in their newest content (living in my head rent free fr) !! likes, rbs, and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

the smell of food tickles your senses, making your way into the kitchen in brisk, yet light steps. there, you find your boyfriend, donghyuck, stirring up a pot boiling to the brim with some kind of broth.

“babyy, what are you making?” you run up to him with a grin, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind.

“it was getting a little cold so i thought of whipping us something up.” there’s a laugh in his tone as he lowers the heat fanning up the pot.

“i love you, but don’t tell me it’s kimchi jiggae again?” you jest, snuggling up to rest your cheek comfortably on his back.

“aw, caught me red handed, pretty.” he sighs dramatically, and you lightly punch him from behind. “you love my cooking anyways, don’t you?”

you peer up from his shoulder, just enough for him to see you from his peripheral view, giving him a faux deadpan expression. “no, not at all.”

“babee, come on now.” he whines with a huff, playing along with you. “we both know that’s a lie.”

“maybe…” your cheeks puff up as you smile and haechan takes the chance to press a tender kiss on the tip of your nose.

“the soup’s ready now, you better eat it all up.” he lightly tuts as you let go of his waist, allowing him to fetch a couple of bowls to transfer the piping hot soup.

“okay, okay i will!” your bubbles of laughter fill up the room, making haechan smile unconsciously as he places the bowls on your dining table with you on his trail like a little puppy.

the smell of the hearty soup alone fills you with warmth, yet before you dig in, you lean over the table to press a cheek on your boyfriend’s lips. “thank you for making this, lovie.”

“you’re welcome.” he responds, a light flush on his cheeks as you both begin spending the chilly, winter weather in the comfort of your home, happily chatting amongst yourselves over the meal.

[jeanmoroses]

which aftg characters would be in which f1 team & why:

for the purposes of this au i'm going to pretend the strategists rankings and managers for every team don't exist so this is purely based off vibes !!! also if you have other ideas feel free to let me know nothing is set in stone hehe

red bull: kevin and andrew. red bull is SO ravens coded and max verstappen is quite literally a kevin day variant (and vice versa). hc that kevin and riko used to race for red bull together (can you see where this is going. yeah) and andrew ended up replacing riko as the second rb driver

mclaren: shawn and derrick. shawn as lando norris and derrick as oscar piastri i don't have to explain this i think

ferrari: jeremy knox and jean moreau. jeremy is basically ferrari personified (he’s like a mix of charles, carlos, and george) while jean used to drive as an alternate for kevin & riko then transferred to ferrari after riko's crash/suicide

mercedes: matt and neil. matt/lewis older brothers of the grid and neil as the underdog (george russell). in an alternate universe this is kevin and neil

aston martin: nicky and allison. i’m not comparing nicky to alonso but allison and lance stroll (don't come for me i'm a lance stroll enjoyer i swear). also aston martin sounds so vintage and rich i think it fits them

visa rb: cat and laila. yuki telling reporters he wants to open a restaurant every interview just reminds me of cat LMAO but i don't know how this would work with the red bull and visa correlation so i guess aston martin and visa are interchangeable ? i still like it this way tho

haas: cody and pat. they would tell each other “suck my balls” on national television. underrated duo ngl

alpine: nabil and derek. okay this was really random i was running out of characters HAHHAH but pierre and esteban kind of do remind me of nabil and derek like imagine them on the track

williams: xavier and min. unproblematic team for unproblematic drivers i love alex and logan

kick sauber/audi: haoyu and travis. another unproblematic team i can see travis getting haoyu to film silly tiktoks with him and being menaces at the paddock (sometimes they rope williams into their shenanigans)