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#kind of just the tags really I gotta shut up
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Wish somebody would call me an evil stick
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volivolition · 5 months
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I say this in the most loving way possible, how the fuck can you write the most expressive and magical tags ever?? How do you have the mental energy to form words? 50% I can only say "nice post op". You inspire me to spread positivity to everyone but I literally can't be this positive and kind all the time. Just want to send you love and know that I appreciate you <3
HKJGH AW RED!! :'] <3 it does take a lot of energy, i understand :'0 i keep a lot of cool art in my tumblr drafts. the art stays in there until i have energy to type all my thoughts out. a lot of things stay stuck in there… i try to make sure art from my friends get out soon though :0 don't feel bad if you can't type a lot!! anything you can manage is okay! no one can be positive and kind all the time, and that's normal! just do what you can. i promise it's enough. (<- these are things i need to remind myself too <3)
a lot of it is literally just me needing to scream hkjfh, i have a lot of thoughts and i love sharing them always. i love rambling, can you tell? (<- joke) also i have a lot of love to give and i love artists and their creations. like WOW someone made a thing!! and they wanted to share it with the world!! AND I GET TO SEE IT!!! i GOTTA tell them i enjoy it!!!!!
it's also my empathy acting up because im also an artist!! and he's like "hey!! you love people writing nice tags on *your* art!! imagine if you were this artist, wouldn't you be happy to see someone tagging it with nice things? :)!" and im like yeah!! if this makes me happy, i should make other people happy too :3
ANYWAY I APPRECIATE YOU TOO RED YOU'RE DEAR TO ME!! SENDING LOVE BACK!!!! <33
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malavera · 2 months
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“Shh, can you be quiet?” (18+) Logan Howlett Headcanon
pairing: dom!logan howlett x female reader
warning: SMUT! MDNI. Reader being on top, reader and logan fucking beside’s sleeping wade on the couch, logan’s filthy mouth, orgasm denial
taglist: @wildlyobsessive @velvrei comment if you want to be tagged!
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p.s: he looks so deliciously mean in this gif ooo
it was a movie night for you three that of course, wade wants to have in once a week.
it’s actually either he’s really meant it so he could feel like a family and that because he really loves you and Logan, or it’s actually because he wants to watch and listen to you both having sex
“if we do this we’re really giving into what he wants.” you rolled your eyes after spitting the facts to Logan
he grunts before he roughly grip your hips and move you back and forth on top of his clothed cock
“i don’t care. i just want to get inside you right now, fuck you’re so sexy, baby.” you fluttered your eyes shut leaning hour head back and softly moan
“shh, you gotta be quiet though. asleep or not, i don’t want this little shit listening to your sexy moans, only i get to.” Logan grunts
“you know i can’t.” you whimper
Logan hissed and grunts before he ripped your shorts off along with your panties with ease
he roughly stuff your panties into your mouth as you rolled your eyes from finding this situation rather hot
and there it goes, his thick and veiny cock penetrating you with him guiding you down to take it all in
“urghh..” Logan quietly groaned, leaning his head back against the cushion
“fuck… such a good pussy.” he whispered to himself with his eyes closed
if you could moan out loud, you would but instead you just lean your head back and start riding his cock
as much as he wants you to be quiet, it didn’t seem like he’d want to keep his mouth shut
he’s whispering all kinds of filth to your ear and he knows the effect of his voice in your ear
just by speaking very low sends chill down your spine
“fuck look at you, always ready to be my cock slut.”
“yeah..? yeah.. haha keep going bub.”
imagine his breathy laughs mixed with his grunts…
“fucking me cock so good bub, argh god.” you whimpered, eyebrows scrunched together watching him lean back for a second rolling his eyes to the back of his head
“come on baby, make me cum.” he taunts
“yeah… yeah haha keep it like that..”
“mmhmm.. keep going.”
you abruptly stopped, in fact almost froze when you heard wade’s grunt
you twist your head to find him still asleep
logan’s hand grabbed your chin and roughly turns your point of view back to him
“hey, who told you to stop? no one. keep going.” you whimpered before you begin riding him again this time with all the strength you have
“that’s it bub… there you go.” logan’s hand sneaks up from your torso to grab your neck, choking you
and thats what made you ride him faster
“are you gonna cum for me?” you nodded your head frantically
“you gotta make me cum first bub, come on. faster. yeah yeah yeah.. ggrhh.”
you whimpered, shutting your eyes
“fffuck… i’m cumming- i’m cumming-.. i’m gonna c-cum-” logan’s thigh stuttered before he jolted his hips upwards stopping you from moving as he is reaching his high to fill you with his warm cum
“o-ohh.. fuck fuck..” logan panted, emptying his load inside you
“gahh.. fuck.” he leans back against the cushion, you watching him with doe eyes
you haven’t reached your high, it’s very unusual for him to deny your orgasm unless… you did something wrong
logan chuckles from looking at your expression
“don’t worry bub. you’ll get to cum. only this time, and i’ll be saying it once more, this time only.” you look at him dumbfounded before he peered his eyes to the side and you follow
it was who is already staring at you with a smirk
“ooohhh yes i promise you peanut, but if she comes crawling back for my cock, don’t blame me.”
and i oop.
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emoreemadden · 2 months
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hii! it’s been a while <3 anyways here’s a request from a friend.
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Outline: Gojo doesn’t want to be your friend anymore and tells you straight to your face. Unfortunately, you take it the wrong way.
Content Warnings: fluff kinda?, angst ish???, miscommunication trope 😭 idk not many tags or warnings for this one. lmk if i missed anything
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, fem!reader
A/N: i was supposed to finish this WAYYYYYY sooner 😭 my bad… word count: 1815
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Gojo Satoru. An enigma for sure.
You both have been best friends for longer than you remember. Well, maybe best friends is the wrong term. You said you were best friends, but it didn’t feel that way. At least not to you.
Every time you saw Gojo, your heart would flutter. Perhaps it was normal, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you had some kind of feelings for him.
You just wished he felt the same.
“What’s wrong?” Gojo had noticed you’d been acting different recently. He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’re being weird.”
You shrug at him, trying to act normal. Even though you’ve always felt this way about him, you’ve only just now stopped bothering to hide it.
“I don’t know.” Your eyes flit to the ground. “Just tired, I guess.”
And Gojo, being the nice guy that he is, pulls you into a hug. It shouldn’t make you feel this way, like there’s butterflies in your stomach. But it does.
You’re conflicted between wanting to cry and wanting to hug him until you two became one.
“You should get some rest.” He suggests, pulling away and flashing you one of his cheery grins.
“I’ll try my best.” You smile back, though it’s not very passionate.
Gojo pats your head. There’s a pitiful look on his face. “Are you still down for lunch tomorrow?” He asks. Always so considerate, yet he’s never realized how you feel about him.
“Yeah, sure.” You try to up the dosage of your weary smile. “You still working on that surprise?” You ask. Gojo’s been planning this for weeks, teasing you about his “lunch date surprise.”
He grins cheekily. “‘Course I am.” His slender fingers fidget with his sleeves. “What kind of friend would I be to go back on my word?”
Friend.
The word taunts you like a bully, but you push the thought away. It’s all you’ll ever be, anyways. Friends.
You chuckle when you snap back to reality. “A pretty shitty one, I’d say.”
“Language, young lady.” He teases. You open your mouth to say something, but his phone rings.
“Sorry, I gotta go.” He gives you an apologetic look. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Be prepared!” He looks giddy.
“Yep.” You reply tightly. “Bye, ‘Toru.” You wave as he walks away.
“Do I buy her flowers or something?” Gojo says to Suguru over the phone.
“You’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Why has it only occured to you now to get her flowers?” Suguru replies, and Gojo can practically hear him rolling his eyes.
“Well I don’t normally confess to my best friend-” Geto tuts before he can continue.
Gojo sighs. “Okay, girl best friend. Better?” He asks.
“No, but continue anyways.” There’s an awkward pause on Gojo’s part.
“I’m nervous.” Gojo finally admits. “I’m like, really nervous.”
Suguru chuckles. “Gojo Satoru, the strongest Sorcerer there is, is nervous to confess to a girl.” He says, his laugh getting louder. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh shut up, would you?” And Geto only laughs harder, his chuckle turning into full blown howling.
“Fuck off!” And with that, the call clicks off. Gojo sighs, shoving his phone in his pocket and falling back onto his bed.
“I’m screwed.”
You sit at the cafe Gojo had invited you too weeks prior, sighing as you stare at the clock.
“Where is he..?” You mutter to yourself.
Suddenly, as if on cue, he strides in as giddy as ever, looking around for a minute before spotting you and grinning.
“There you are!” He says as he sits down at the table with you. He’s sweating slightly, like he’s anxious.
You smile back at him, and immediately it feels like there’s a thorny rose in your belly, poking you from the inside. “Hey ‘Toru.”
He beams at you. “Did I keep you waiting long?” He asks, giving you an apologetic look for being a few minutes late.
You shake your head. “It’s alright. Now would you please tell me what your little surprise is?”
“Well I can’t give it away so easily!” He pouts playfully. “You haven’t even ordered.” He notes the empty table.
You sigh, before flagging down a waitress. “Can I please get two iced coffees?”
The waiter notes down your order and runs off, leaving you to stare at Satoru expectantly. “Yes I have.”
He tuts, rolling his eyes. “We’ll get to the surprise later. For now, tell me how your day is going.”
So you do. You two talk for a few minutes, and you practically forget about the surprise, until he reminds you.
“Alright, I’ll tell you your surprise now.” He says after the waitress leaves with Gojo’s order of a tiramisu cake and two spoons.
You perk up, curious to find out what he’s been alluding to for so long.
He takes a deep breath. “I don’t think we should be friends anymore.”
You can almost hear the sound of your heart crunching as he steps on it with his words.
“What?” You squeak, tears forming in your eyes.
Gojo stares at you, confused. “Didn’t you hear me?”
You swallow thickly, feeling bile rise in your throat. “But… why?” You feel your tears rolling down your cheeks.
Gojo is alarmed, staring at your crying face. “Why are you crying? Do you… not feel the same?”
You shake your head feverishly, about to open your mouth, but the waitress places down your cake before you can speak.
Gojo looks down at the cake and then back up at you, his expression dimming.
“So you want to be friends?” He asks, sounding heartbroken himself.
You nod, confused. “I thought you did too!” Your chest swells with hurt.
Gojo seems completely distraught. He tries to speak, but nothing comes out. “…No.” He finally says, looking down at the ground.
You stand up from the table with your purse, placing down a few bills before sniffling, trying to wipe your eyes. “I’m going home.” You mumble, turning to leave.
Gojo just stares at you walk away, feeling his spirit burn. “Oh.” He whispers, looking down at the cake on the table.
You hop in your car, tears streaming down your face rapidly as you grip the steering wheel tightly. Your head collapses against the wheel and your body convulses as you sob, shaking like crazy.
You knew Gojo would never feel the same way about you as you did with him, but you thought you’d at least always be friends.
You whimper as you curl up into a ball in the driver's seat, too upset to drive.
Meanwhile, Gojo is inside the cafe, eating the cake silently while he stares at the second spoon.
He’s so confused. He had a sneaking suspicion that you’d reject his love for you, but he didn’t expect you to do it so heartlessly. You cried, for god’s sake! He hadn’t predicted for you to be so opposed to the idea of being more than friends with him.
He feels his heart clench when he remembers your face after he confessed. He sighs, finishing his desert before leaving the cafe defeatedly, his hands in his pockets as he walks home.
The second he opens his door, he collapses against it, sliding to his knees and curling into a ball. He thinks for a moment, before calling up Suguru.
“Have you done it yet? What did she say?” Is the first thing that comes out of Geto’s mouth when he picks up. The reminder of the whole debacle just makes Gojo even more sorrowful than he already was.
“She rejected me.” Gojo says solemnly. The air falls silent for a few moments.
Geto is the first to break the silence. “What did you say?” He finally asks.
Gojo sighs. “I said I didn’t want to be friends anymore.” He replies.
A beat of silence passes.
“And?” Geto urges.
Gojo, confused, replies. “And what?”
“And then what did you say?” He asks.
Still extremely confused, Gojo pauses. “…Nothing.” He says, a hint of uncertainty in his answer.
Geto, with a loud sigh, rolls his eyes. “Are you dumb?” He asks.
“Huh? What’d I do?!” Gojo frowns.
“You goddamn idiot, she probably thought you meant you didn’t want to be friends at all!” Suguru slaps his forehead, which is heard from Gojo’s end of the line.
“Because I don’t!” Gojo protests, now even more confused.
Suguru heaves with annoyance. “She thought you didn’t like her anymore, dumbass.”
Another beat of silence.
A wave of realization hits Gojo. “Oh, fuck.” Is all he says before hanging up and hopping to his feet, running out the door to go find you.
Luckily, on his run to your house, Satoru sees your car still parked outside of the cafe. Panting like a madman, he walks up to it and knocks on your passenger door window, startling you back into your surroundings.
Your eyes widen when you see Satoru awkwardly waving at you through your window. Your eyes are puffy and red from crying, which he notices.
He taps your window, as if to say ‘open up!”
You sniffle as you roll it down, rubbing your eyes.
“Hey, I think you misinterpreted what I said back there.” He gestures to the cafe, his sentence broken up by loud, heavy breaths.
“Why are you so tired?” You ask in return.
“I ran here.” He replies, giving you a lazy grin before he continues with his explanation.
“When I said I didn’t want to be friends anymore, I meant because I want to be more than friends.” He begins, poking his head through your open window to get a little closer to you.
“I really, really like you.” He confesses, a light blush tinting his cheeks. “And I don’t want to be friends. I want to be your boyfriend.”
You stare at him for a few seconds, before letting out a breathy laugh. “Of course you screwed up like that.” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as you smile.
He ignored your little jab. “So? What do you say?” He asks. “Please don’t reject me, I ran all the way here.” He begs.
You laugh again, rubbing your red eyes and unlocking your car door. “I don’t want to be friends either, Satoru.”
His eyes light up at your statement and he immediately throws the door open, fitting himself into the passenger seat before he turns to face you.
“Really, you mean it?” He asks excitedly, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “You don’t?”
You smile. “Not at all.”
And with your confirmation, he grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss, gently wiping your past tears as he does so.
He pulls back for a second to grin at you. “Thank god, because I was not ready to run all the way back home.” He jokes before going back to kissing you.
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astonmartinii · 6 months
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fatherhood looks good on you | george russell social media au
pairing: george russell x fem albon reader
there comes a point in the relationship where you take it to the next level
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
- part of the brother's best friend series -
yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 783,409 others
tagged: georgerussell63
yourusername: looking so good i want to give you a baby
view all comments
user1: WHAT
user2: we really be saying anything on the internet these days
alexalbon: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE LITERAL ONLY RULE OF THIS RELATIONSHIP WAS THAT YOU KEEP THIS SHIT TO YOURSELVES
yourusername: gosh a girl can't have baby fever in peace these days
alexalbon: unless that baby is coming by stork you can put that talk on hold real fast
yourusername: just because lily is busy does not mean you have to take it out on me and george
georgerussell63: alex is it illegal for a man to be handsome?
alexalbon: if it's illegal to be handsome, you'd have the cleanest record known to man
yourusername: STOP RIGHT THERE DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT LYING IS A SIN
alexalbon: i'm not going to say YOUR boyfriend is hot, no.
yourusername: just because i got in there first 🙄
user3: i don't think she's serious but also george with a baby is just too cute not to happen
user4: george is the perf instagram boyf like he's so ready to pose
landonorris: well that definitely is something we all want to know
yourusername: i know you would LOVE to know ALL the details norris
georgerussell63: she's never going to let your crush go lando, you gotta just hold it
landonorris: i was THIRTEEN
yourusername: you don't love me anymore? 😕
landonorris: i don't know why i always get in these arguments with you
user5: i love how george just instigates things for y/n lmao
user6: your boyfriend should always support your mess
liked by yourusername
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georgerussell63
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liked by lewishamilton, alexalbon and 1,209,458 others
tagged: yourusername
georgerussell63: fatherhood is a different beast
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user8: alright i am so confused
user9: there's no way y/n can actually be pregnant i saw her down at least three pornstar martinis in hospitality this weekend
alexalbon: this better be a joke or i'm gonna kick you so hard you get a free non-reversible vasectomy
yourusername: stop the violence!
alexalbon: THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR GLEE REFERENCES
yourusername: someone is channelling some serious sue vibes right now
georgerussell63: let it be known i like my reproductive systems the way they are
alexalbon: that's kind of the point of a threat, you aren't supposed to want it
yourusername: he likes threats if they come from the right person
alexalbon: i am about one more comment away from knocking down your hotel room door and throwing george from the balcony
yourusername: and deprive our child from a father... alex i expected better from you
alexalbon: that's it i'm on my way
georgerussell63: @mercedesamgf1 PLEASE PROTECT ME I AM PRECIOUS CARGO
user10: these bitches got me actually combing through tiktoks and hospitality menus to see if y/n was actually drinking
user11: i'm gonna be real angry if this is all a big joke
user12: i know kimi antonelli is young but this is NAWT the way to announce him for 2025
charles_leclerc: guys i need you to spell everything out i am confused
georgerussell63: no can do charles you gotta follow the breadcrumbs just like everyone else
yourusername: it's right there sharl
charles_leclerc: actually alex, wait, i'm coming with you these hoes are annoying me
landonorris: don't forget me
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, maxverstappen1 and 1,409,556 others
tagged: georgerussell63
yourusername: our baby is here!
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user15: A CAT?
user16: i just knew george russell would be a ragdoll girl
georgerussell63: they were right i AM a girl dad
yourusername: finally dilf status
georgerussell63: a title i do not take lightly
yourusername: i can confirm libido has gone UP since becoming parents!
landonorris: shut THE FUCK UP
yourusername: you'll understand in time lando
georgerussell63: you just found yourself at the bottom of the babysitting list
landonorris: i don't want to look after it
yourusername: IT? IT? HOW DARE YOU?
georgerussell63: she can hear you lando that's so disrespectful :(
landonorris: ??? i'm not saying sorry to a cat over instagram comment
georgerussell63: expect the same courtesy when i take you out first corner next weekend
user17: i fear that was not a threat but a promise from george
user18: it's kinda hot
liked by yourusername
alexalbon: NEW ALBON PETS LORE AND NONE OF YOU TOLD ME
yourusername: ella can't wait to meet the gang
alexalbon: no offence but ella is kinda a shit name
yourusername: short for mozzarella
alexalbon: i take it back
georgerussell63: cause she's the lil pearl of our life
alexalbon: i love her already
user19: so we went through all this tomfoolery for a cat? a cat called mozzarella?
user20: you have to agree it's iconic
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alexalbon
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tagged: georgerussell63 & yourusername
alexalbon: i knew @albon_pets would get george at some point
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user22: i love how alex became the chill guy again after it was revealed he was not yet an uncle
georgerussell63: hard on the yet
alexalbon: too soon george
user23: the albon pets signature of approval is a bigger sign that george is in the gamily than if he actually proposed to y/n
user24: they've got a baby now he's an albon
yourusername: horsey is going to kick off over having to share george with me and mozzie
albon_pets: bring it on - horsey
yourusername: alex i'm not arguing with you pretending to be horsey, this ain't roscoe and lewis
lewishamilton: rude
roscoelovescoco: meanie
yourusername: did you just call me mean as your dog?
lewishamilton: you were extra mean
yourusername: fine lets let mozzie and roscoe scrap it out at silverstone - she's got the sass of both me and george btw x
lewishamilton: stay AWAY FROM MY DOG
user25: the merc garage gonna be a whole petting zoo at silverstone i can't
user26: you wanna catch up with red bull? sell meet and greet tickets to the petting zoo
maxverstappen1: this is my official invitation to a play date with jimmy and sassy
yourusername: WE'LL BE THERE
maxverstappen1: is mozzarella civilised?
georgerussell63: of course my child has manners?
maxverstappen1: you crash into people all the time, i had to check
georgerussell63
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liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 896,045 others
tagged: yourusername
georgerussell63: all of the family here for the home race
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user27: y/n wearing mozzarella in a baby harness i need to be put down
user28: that really is their child oh my
yourusername: make our baby proud georgie
georgerussell63: anything for you two xx
alexalbon: why do i never get these nice comments
yourusername: they're transmitted through our genes x
yourusername: also george more important 👍🏻
alexalbon: i'm literally your brother? your flesh and blood?
yourusername: george cuter
georgerussell63: can't argue with that
alexalbon: well of course he is this ain't alabama. (sorry logan)
logansargent: i'm from florida?
yourusername: even worse, my condolences
georgerussell63: can we get back to talking about how dashing i am?
yourusername: yes!
alexalbon: NO. SAY GOOD LUCK Y/N
yourusername: good luck y/n
alexalbon: what if i crash and you never said good luck, think about it y/n
yourusername: good luck alex (you're an asshole for weaponising the sport (and you being shit at it))
user29: i think i had about three strokes trying to follow this argument
user30: poor logan is just a victim of the albons at this point
landonorris: have a baby and forget about the rest of us, i see how it is
yourusername: you will never measure up to mozzie lando i hope you know that
georgerussell63: what y/n means is that i love my friends, but a child is a gift from god
landonorris: it's a cat. she can't even talk
yourusername: and yet she makes better points than you, makes you think
yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 834,019 others
tagged: georgerussell63
yourusername: fatherhood looks good on you
view all comments
user31: mozzarella is so big already 🥹
user32: maybe i'm worse than them cause i'm attached to mozzie as well
georgerussell63: no one else i'd rather be cat parents to
yourusername: you're such a romantic
georgerussll63: such a pleasure to take this next step with the love of my life
yourusername: i love you more
georgerussell63: not possible
alexalbon: you being gross about mozzie was better than what ever the fuck this is
yourusername: @lilymunhe does he not treat you right?
lilymunhe: he's a romantic really, he's just exhausting the protective big brother act until george finally proposes
alexalbon: sue me
maxverstappen1: still waiting on the play date ...
yourusername: monaco?
maxverstappen1: done
yourusername: jimmy, sassy and ella will be like the charlie's angles reincarnated
georgerussell63: can't wait for you to see her IMPECCABLE manners
maxverstappen1: okay princess george
yourusername: hey only i can call george princess
maxverstappen1: you keep that to yourself
user33: disappointed that with all the tomfoolery around mozzie that there was no maternity photoshoots
yourusername: oh do not give me a challenge...
fin.
note: NEW SERIES ALERT? i'll create a masterlist after i post this. i hope you enjoyed, this one is more of a tame brother's best friend take but dw they can get more beefy and more sassy - send me any pairings you might like to see! thanks for reading x
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itostea · 1 year
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hot things bllk boys do as your boyfriend (rin, shidou, nagi & chigiri)
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warnings: suggestive in shidou’s part, reader is called pretty girl in shidou’s part
credits to whoever did this idea first! and repost bc i forgot tags oops
rin:
poking the side of his mouth with his tongue whenever you’re showing him a new outfit 🤭🤭
“So what do you think?” You beam with a grin, doing a twirl for him to get a 360 of your clothes. A half-empty bag is disregarded on the side of your shared bed. You can see your reflection on the side mirror and how the fabric fits around your waist. The dress isn’t anything special in design but its intended use is to be frame flattering–the kind of dress that you can wear on any occasion. It’s one of the few things you came to really like from your online purchase and insisted Rin see. In the end, you ended up forcing him to sit through your haul (not that he really minds).
Teal eyes flit from side-to-side and subconsciously, his tongue pokes the side of his cheek. The scrutiny, though it shouldn’t, makes you nervous. You don’t think he’s yet to understand the effect he has on you. Comically, you straighten up when he’s about to speak, making him raise a brow in question. “The dress’s a bit short.”
“But it’s cute right?!” You whine, doing another twirl for emphasis and stepping closer to him.
“It’s not bad.”
“Huh? Are you sure? I thought this was one of the better picks…” You frown, your spirits dying as you were excited to show him the dress.
“It only looks good because you’re wearing it,” he speaks frankly, leaning back to observe you again. Like before, his tongue probes at the inside of his cheek whilst studying you.
You try your best not to react and try not to squirm underneath his gaze and how effortlessly good he looks. “H-Huh? Yeah thanks…”
“Why are you acting shy now?”
“I’m not!”
shidou:
hand placement. that’s it.
“Ryu! Get off of me!” You sigh for nth time, helplessly writhing underneath him. “At least take a shower first before you hug me…”
“You complain too much baby,” he taps the side of your cheek with a boyish smile. “Can’t believe my girl can be so mean. After a day of tiring practice too.”
“Uh huh, I’m pretty sure it was only tiring since you’re always butting heads with Rin.”
He ignores your insult and instead leans up. “When were you on first name basis with that bastard?”. Little strands of hair fall over his forehead and his pink eyes glow above you. From below, you can really see the product of his hard work. His sweat still clings to him but that only draws more attention to his biceps and muscles. You see a smug smile on his face, realizing that you were caught gawking at him.
You avert your eyes with embarrassment written all over your face. “Shut up, I wasn't looking. And besides you literally call him Rinrin.”
He only bursts in laughter. “I didn’t say anything yet! Awh I didn’t think you’d get jealous!”
“Huh?! Aren’t you the jeal–!”
He interrupts you with another pat on the cheek. “Well don’t worry I won’t call him any nicknames reserved for you. Alright sweetheart? Or did you like baby more? Or was it pretty girl?” He teases leaning closely to you, pressing kisses over the crevice of your neck with a coy grin. His grin only widens when you gasp and whisper-yell his name when he bites down softly on your neck. “You wanna join me in the shower?” He breathes against your neck.
You’re not a fool to miss the hidden meaning behind that offer, well aware that the two of you weren’t just going to shower. “I gotta run some errands,” you say half-heartedly, not really convinced that you want that.
“Yeah?” He chuckles close up to your neck before he props himself with his arm bent while the other pushes your lips closer to his. Your body jolts as his hand creeps down to rest on your neck–with his thumb rubbing little circles over the fresh mark he just left. When he disconnects from your lips, a familiar gleam in his eyes draws your attention. “Still don’t wanna join me?”
“My errands–” Another kiss. A gentle squeeze to your neck as he deepens the kiss. You can’t find yourself to be mad when you feel his grin against your lips. In vain, you try to muster up a glare as you purse your lips. “Ryu–!”
Again. Only this time that hand slides down to rest at your hip. The sound of his lips against yours is enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. And he doesn’t seem like he’d be backing down either.
“Okay fine! I’ll join you in the shower, you demon!”
“Knew you’d come around.” He pulls you up and only returns your glares with a cheeky smile.
You pout as he gathers you in his arms, not finding much in your heart to push him away. “You did all of that on purpose didn’t you.”
“So what if I did babe? It always works doesn’t it?”
nagi:
literally lifts you like it’s nothing 😭😭😭
“We gotta go pretty…C’mon, get out of bed.”
“Don’t wanna…”
Nagi finds the situation to be amusing, seeing as the roles are reversed with you being the lazy one and him trying to pry you awake. He’s not usually one to wake up early but after the release of a new game he’s been wanting to try, he wanted to get his hands on it before it sold out. Again, he tries to gently shake you awake, suddenly gaining a newfound respect for you–seeing as you dealt with similar situations involving him.
“Why can’t you just go alone?” You whine, covering your face with the blanket.
“You said you wanted to try that bakery’s pastries, didn't you?”
“Can’t you just get them for me after you finish buying the game…” You mumble.
Nagi sighs. He could. But he doesn’t want to. Call it selfish but he doesn’t want to go alone. It’d be such a hassle if the line was long and he’d be waiting by himself–without you to talk to. “Nope. Can’t do that.”
“Why not?” You complain for another time, your voice muffled by the blankets. You hear the ruffling of the blanket and how the bed flattens with his knee. Your hands come to cover your eyes from the early sun streaks peeking into the room, scowling once you see your boyfriend holding the blanket in between his hands.
He looks at you blankly. “Don’t make me carry you…”
“Huh? As if. You’re too lazy to do all that work–! Sei?!” Suddenly, you’re a few feet up, face-to-face with a fluff of white hair. Your look of shock brings a small smile to Nagi’s features and he can’t help but pinch your cheek in between his fingers, positioning you so you could fit in his arm.
“I wouldn’t really call this work. This wouldn’t even count as a workout either…” he glances at you, proceeding to carry you to the restroom so you could get ready. “Let’s get you more awake ‘kay?”
You blink. You’re awake now. Completely. Sometimes or maybe too often, you forget the extent of your boyfriend’s strength and that’s always given him an advantage in the element of surprise. Even now, you gape as he continues to handle your body in his arms as if this was just a stroll in the park.
“Hey…I can walk there myself…” You protest weakly, opting to cross your hands rather than resist.
“Nah, don’t want you running away from me. Of course if that happens, I’ll just have to carry you again.”
chigiri:
maintains eye contact with you all the time 😩😩
A hand brushes over your shoulder as you’re doing your skincare, applying the moisturizer carefully over your face with your eyes fixed on the mirror. Glancing at your boyfriend, you tilt your head. “Yes?”
“Don’t apply your moisturizer like that. Do it like this,” he motions with his fingers, only smiling when you only blink. “Here let me do it.”
With a nod, you face him, allowing him to massage the product onto your face. “Feels nice, Hyoma.”
“I bet,” he mumbles quietly, lightly chuckling as you make a noise of displeasure when he rubs a spot too hard. Rosy eyes watch you carefully as his nimble fingers continue to massage in the residue of any leftover product. You feel yourself getting a bit bashful underneath his gaze, preferring to just avert your eyes to the side while he continues to apply the cream on you. “Not gonna look at me?” He teases, collectively deciding to just finish your skincare routine for you.
His fingers reach over to grab onto your lip balm, unclasping the container and gathering a reasonable amount on his finger. With his thumb and pointer finger, he holds onto your chin and smooths the substance over your lips. You try not to tense from his hold, still stubborn in ignoring his gaze. “I am looking at you.”
“Right,” he laughs. “Anddddd there. Done.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally peeping a look to gaze at your boyfriend. He’s still smiling, only this time his eyes crinkle at the sight of you looking so meek.
“You’re pretty cute, you know that?”
Your hands cover your face as a sound escapes your throat. “Please stop, you're gonna kill me here.”
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forsworned · 30 days
Note
I just got a great idea. Imagine the teenage dirt bag trend with 141, where reader is chill and laid back, and as 141 and reader are in the break room, gaz or soap ask reader about her life before the military and she just goes to her office to get some photos of her and her friends in their teens, smoking weed and in some she has some sick piercings and a skater, or maybe even a motorcycle. I don't even know. I'm just rambling. You can write it if you want but if you don't want to then feel free to ignore me 🫶🏼🙆🏻‍♀️
author's note: and a great idea you have indeed :) i gotchuuu and im so sorry this took me forever to get to
tags: poly 141 antics, cheeky banter, and a lil flirting with the boys ;)
Breakfast is a fan favorite amongst the 141, especially when it involves the sweet and savory aroma of coffee, pancakes, eggs, and your famous potato hash—a dish that's practically a cult fave within the team. As you settle in your seat between Johnny and Kyle with your coffee mug in your hand, the group is chatting about their former glory days before they joined the military.
Johnny nudges you with a playful smirk, still noshing on a piece of toast. "So, hen, ye look like ye had a bit of a wild streak back in the day, aye? Bet ye were a right wee devil." His tone is teasing, laced with curiosity as his cerulean gaze lingers on you.
You roll your eyes at him, but before you can respond, Kyle chimes in, his tone equally teasing, "Yeah, you look like the type who got up to all sorts of dodgy stuff. Proper troublemaker, I reckon. C'mon love, spill the beans." He nudges with a grin.
Price looks over his newspaper at double trouble across the table, before turning the page, causing you to chuckle. "Well," you fish out your phone from your pocket and everyone leans forward in their seats as you scroll through your camera roll. You stop at an album and tap on it before rotating the screen to face them and they can't help the excited noises that leave their mouths.
"No way!" Johnny exclaims, his grin widens as he spots a photo of you leaning against a cherry red muscle car. "Is that a 1967 Chevrolet Camaro!?" Kyle chirps, taking your phone from you and you laugh at their reactions. That gets Price's attention and he leans over to get a gander of the rebellious glint in your eye and the streaks of red fashioned into your hair.
"Christ," He beams down at the photo and then up at you. "looks like you were quite the rebel, eh? No wonder these two pillocks won't stop botherin' ya."
Kyle lets out a whistle as he swipes to the next photo, showcasing you with a cigarette hanging between your lips, clad in a skimpy bikini, leaning against your palms on a beach on a sunlit beach with the sunset casting a tangerine glow. "Cheeky."
Johnny's eyes ream at the photo, taking you in your exposed form. "Aye, look at ye!" His cheeks flush as he tilts his head, peeking up at you. "I gotta give it ya, lassie, yer quite the stunner."
"And still are." Price adds, raising his eyebrows at you. You fluster at his kind words, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Thank you,"
"Oi! Look at this one!" Johnny points to the screen again, having a good laugh. You lean into Kyle and giggle at the photo. Grin as wide as your face with an alligator's jaw clamped shut between your hands. "That cannot be real!"
"It's really not as wild as it looks. I was on vacation in Florida, and a local wildlife park had this little show where they let you hold and pose with a baby alligator. They made sure everything was safe and supervised. Super fun."
Price cocks an amused brow at you, sipping his coffee. "Baby alligator, eh? You're quite the thrill seeker."
"Yeahhh, not much has changed." Kyle ribs and the others laugh. It's true though. You were actively pursuing that adrenaline rush, so it didn't come as much of a surprise to them, especially not Simon.
As the laughter dies down, Simon, who was quietly enjoying his tea and observing the situation unfold finally speaks up, "You lot are gettin' too chuffed over this, but I gotta admit..." He leans back, his dark eyes fixate on you and you can't help but take notice of how his mask is scrunched up under his nose, revealing the pale pink of his lips. "Never quite pegged you for a lil rascal. Bet you gave your folks a right headache."
He prods the phone out of Johnny's hand and takes a look at the other photos they were scrolling through and softly snorting at what looks like an image of you on stage, strumming at a guitar and singing your heart out. "But I reckon that's what makes you fit in so will with these bunch of nutters." His lips quirk into a faint smile as he hands you back your phone and goes back to munching on his eggs. "Ain't it always the quiet ones you gotta watch out for?"
Your cheeks blossom with warmth at his comment and the cute little smile that adorns his handsome face. "Well, I didn't think I was all that quiet." You poke your tongue in your cheek, gently prying the phone out of his hands.
His finger seems to biff at your screen as it clatters out of your grasp because his onyx eyes widen at the photo. Skin exposed, revealing the ink that embellishes your lower left hip in delicate, intricate patterns as you're posing sexy for the camera. Your heart plunges to your ass at the realization of it not being in your hidden album.
"Oh—that's, uhhh" You stammer swiftly, locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket. Your tongue swipes at your lips as you avert your gaze, but Simon takes note of how you nervously twiddle with the spoon as it clatters against the walls of your mug.
Simon's eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he returns to his tea, "well, well, well..."
The rest of the team is still buzzing with the excitement of your heydays as they detect the slight change in atmosphere.
"Oi, what's all of this about, then?" Johnny asks with a mouth full of food. "Give us the scoop!"
But the Scotsman is getting scolded by Price and Kyle for not keeping his mouth shut while he eats. A sheepish smile adorns his lips, rubbing the back of his neck as he apologizes. Simon chuckles, and shakes his head, "Nothin' worth spillin', Johnny. Just a bit of a laugh."
Of course that earns some groans from them, but you can't help but bite your bottom lip and grin when Simon gives you a knowing look. Some secrets are best kept between friends.
masterlist
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justporo · 11 months
Text
Who's the goose... (2)
...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?
PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3
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Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!
Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)
Rating: Still stupid
Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)
Wordcount: 5k
~~~
The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.
Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.
The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.
Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.
You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.
You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.
Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.
Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.
Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.
You had started stroking him again.
“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”
“Honk!?”
“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”
“Honk!”
“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.
Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.
And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.
But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.
You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.
The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.
“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.
Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.
Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.
You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.
Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.
“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.
At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.
You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”
In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.
The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.
Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.
At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.
“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.
“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.
“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.
The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.
And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.
Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.
He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.
Was he… was he trying to fly?
The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.
Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.
“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.
Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.
“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.
So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.
At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.
Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.
The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.
The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.
Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.
The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.
Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.
You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.
The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.
And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.
The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.
You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.
He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.
The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.
“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.
The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.
You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.
He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.
“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.
The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.
“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.
You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.
After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.
He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.
The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.
“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.
“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.
“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.
“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.
“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.
“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.
A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.
“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.
“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.
The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”
Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.
“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.
You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.
You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!
When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.
You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.
You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?
You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.
Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.
Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.
On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.
It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.
Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.
Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.
Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.
The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.
The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.
Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.
“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.
The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.
He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.
Then absolute chaos broke out.
You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.
Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.
The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.
Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.
Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.
The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.
“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.
“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.
That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.
You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.
When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.
The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.
You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.
“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.
And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.
You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.
“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.
You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.
You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.
“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.
“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.
“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.
And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.
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carlsangel · 5 months
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VIRGINITY (PART TWO)
carl grimes x fem!reader
(you and carl get some alone time.)
tags: p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t recommend yall)
masterlist here!
read part one here!
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The day you lost your virginity, everything seemed so…weird. Rick and Michonne had planned to go on a run for a couple of days and the two of you were left with Judith. You’d both asked for advice from Glenn and Maggie and while you got some pretty good advice, Carl got an awkward conversation and a condom.
This was your chance. That morning, you and Carl woke up early to say goodbye to them. “The two of you are gonna be here with Judith, okay? I have Daryl sort of keepin an eye on you so behave.” Rick tells you, packing some cans of food from the pantry into his bag. You look to Carl with sort of an annoyed look. He returns the same.
“Understand?” You both turn to Rick and nod. “Yeah we got it.” Carl replies. Now you had to figure out a way to get Daryl off your back as well. “I trust ‘em.” Michonne approaches from behind you, putting her hand on your shoulder while giving you a smile. You smile at her back, knowing you’re kinda lying to her. But you’re a horny teenager. You gotta do what you gotta do.
“Well…I’m sure they appreciate that. We gotta go.” Rick tells Michonne, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He makes his way through the house, the rest of you following after. You give them their hugs and say goodbye. Once the door slams shut, Judith starts crying. Screaming at the top of her fucking lungs.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hold your head in your hands, unprepared for the headache about to overtake your brain. “Hey, don’t be stressed. We can use this to our advantage.” Carl smiles and picks up Judith as she sobbed, also grabbing a couple toys before walking out the front door. You watch him walk all the way over to the armory to hand her off to Olivia.
When he disappeared into the faraway house, you turned around to find something to do. When you do turn around, you’re met with Daryl. “Jesus what the fuck!” You practically jump back, Daryl just looks at you like you’re crazy. “Don’t do that, holy shit- where did you come from!?” You put your hand over your heart and try your best to catch your breath. “The back door.” He just stares at you till you’re done. You finally catch your breath.
“Do I seriously need to watch over the two of ya or can I go work on my bike?” He asks, you sort of hesitate for some odd reason, you felt bad for lying. “We’ll be fine. Probably gonna make some soup or something and I might go to the range later. I dunno what he’ll do, probably clean his gun.” You shock yourself with how elaborate that lie was. He nods. “Okay. I’ll see ya.” He made his way out the front door.
─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───
A little later, Carl came back and met with you in your guys’ room where you were changing. He closed the door behind him and you turn around to smile at him, your shirt sliding off your arms. “Whatcha doing?” You ask with an endearing smile. He walks a bit closer. “Looking at you.” You giggle at his response. “You mean watching me change? That’s a bit perverted don’t you think?” You rummage through your closet for another shirt.
“I don’t think so.” He slowly comes up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist. He lodges his face into the crook of your neck where begins to plant harsh kisses. “Stop looking.” He tells you, lowering your arms from the clothes you had in your hand. You turn to face him and he smiles once you do. “You’re so pretty.” He puts his hand up to hold your cheek while he pulls you in for another kiss. This one was soft, the kind of kiss that really meant something. A feeling in your stomach told you things would only get better from here.
The kisses continue, only getting more intense and eventually his tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a small moan and you can feel him smile at that as he kissed you even more. You feel him pull you a little and you follow, your mouths still intertwined. He quickly spins you and plops you on the bed. He seemed confident on the outside, little did you know he was extremely nervous. You sit back with your arms propping you up and he leans in to kiss you again, his hands going straight to the buttons of your jeans. It’s quickly unbuttoned and he starts to tug them off you, standing to discard his own shirt as well.
Looking at him like this drives you insane. His messy hair, swollen lips, and the very obvious boner confined by his jeans. You were both scared and excited. Carl on the other hand was just really fucking horny. He got on the bed above you, one of his knees between your legs rutting against your clothed cunt. You let out yet another small moan and this prompts him to pull away and reach around to your back to unfasten your bra. Or try at least.
He was new to this, you can’t blame him. He fiddles with the clasp in a frustrated manner. “I just wanna see you.” He frowns, upset at himself for not being able to successfully take your bra off. You look at him with a sly smile. He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours, his hand freezing in place as he accepted defeat. “Could you help me please?” He has a defeated tone and you laugh, undoing the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. While you did so, he worked on undressing you completely and then you waited for him to undress himself.
You’d palmed him once, you knew he wasn’t small but christ. Now you were definitely nervous. He smiled at you, basking in your beauty before leaning down to kiss a trail all the way from your stomach, up to your chest, to your neck. He was so unbelievably happy. He leaned back up to kiss you some more, his hand wandering down to your thigh, pulling it up. Your other thigh moves up instinctively and he pulls away to look down to actually do this.
He holds your legs at the back of your knees while guides himself to where he believes is the right spot. Glenn was a fucking liar. He has no idea what he’s doing. Maggie was right. Jesus this was so awkward. “Um…i-is this right or-” He stutters hoping you’d know how to guide him. You did, you helped him but not without accidentally sliding his tip against your clit, extracting a sharp moan from the both of you. Once he found your hole, he looked at you before slowly pushing into you.
Your mouth drops slightly at the feeling, his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “This okay?” He asked quietly, stopping to hear your response. “Mhm s’fine just keep going slow.” He nodded and kept pushing, eventually bottoming out. He was breathing heavily, and you were too but he seemed to be on another planet. “A-are you okay?” You sort of giggle. His eyes are shut and he nods. “Just really tight that’s all.” He says breathlessly, gripping your thighs like he was never gonna let go. “Mkay. you can start moving if-if you’re ready.”
Well he’s been ready. He begins to slowly stroke in and out of you, he opens his eyes and leans down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth and you wrap your arms around him. He props himself up to hover over you, still pressing his length into your now, sopping heat. He leans his head back into your neck, moaning against your skin while you leave indents on his back from your nails. “You’re so good, so warm n wet. l-love you s-so much. Please.” He rambled, not even sure why he was saying please.
You could only moan in response, muttering a small “I love you too”back. He started to thrust a bit faster, his pace only increasing. It got to the point where you couldn’t even speak. You could tell he was close to cumming, you were too. Everything felt so good, his affection was only making it ten times better. He was so sweet with you, he really wanted you to feel good and not just him. You were glad he was the one taking your virginity.
“Carl-f-fuck I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, your nails digging into his skin deeper than before which causes him to groan. “Mhm me too.” His voice sounds somewhat strained. You clench around him before cumming all over his cock, him following soon after. He bottoms out inside of you one last time, hitting your g-spot perfectly, causing you to both moan loudly.
He smiles satisfactorily, pulling you into his embrace while he breathes heavily. “You’re so perfect.” He presses a kiss to your jaw and smiles against your skin. “You are. I feel so good.” You say basically astounded, reaching your hand up to rest in his hair. You spend a moment, just breathing and enjoying the afterglow.
Suddenly, Carl pulls away from your neck, and looks up as if he had heard something. You eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“What is it?”
“We forgot the condom.”
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a/n: ok cuz i’m scared and nervous to post this but imma do it anyway THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT i hope it’s okayyy i feel like it was so sped up and im mad about it but let’s ignore that 0-0 hope you like ittttttttttt (im so scared right now you shut up)
ppl to tag: @zomb-1-egutzz
(sorry if u didn’t wanna be tagged for this LMAO)
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Kinktober day 13/14: Monsterfucking + blood - Childe/Foul Legacy Transformation x reader
Warnings/tags: Monsterfucking, his dick is like 14 inches, fem!reader. Once Childe transforms, Foul Legacy gets it/its pronouns. Blood is mentioned, unrealistic sex, Foul Legacy is kind of horror movieified. Slight dub con. It sticks its tongue down your throat. You bleed from multiple things. Mentions of breeding too.
Reader really wants Childe to fuck her in his Foul Legacy transformation.
The first time you asked Childe to fuck you in his foul legacy form, he said no.
Immediately shut you down. Outright refused. Wouldn’t even let you start up with a word of argument- he was so violently opposed to the idea- convinced there was no way you could take that version of him, in any way.
But you were, if anything, stubborn. You were sure you could handle it! You knew you could! And you showed Childe that every opportunity you got- stretching yourself wider and wider till you could nearly take your whole hand. A proud grin on your face as you straddled him- giving him the perfect view to see exactly how much you could take.
You were just so determined to prove to Childe that you could handle it- and no matter how many times he told you “No. It would destroy you.” you persisted. Eventually wearing down his walls enough to just get him to have an open conversation about the topic.
You were curled up against Childe’s side, looking up at him as he stuttered in exasperation and desperately tried to explain to you just how bad of an idea this was. “It’ll break you- it'll rip you apart!”
“No. It won’t. I showed you I could take it, so you gotta at least come up with a new excuse.” You responded, huffing.
“It’s still a bad idea! Being exposed to that much abyssal energy is dangerous! It’s no-“ You cut him off, a bit of pride rising in your chest as you revel in having anticipated this argument beforehand. “I talked to Dottore. He said it’s fine.”
Childe frowns, choosing to set the whole bringing-a-mad-man-into-your-sexlife thing aside for later, and instead focusing on the current subject. “I don’t believe him, he’s not exactly trustworthy.”
“He’s competent.”
“He’s a psychopath.”
“But a competent one.”
Childe sighs, angling your head and looking into your eyes as he speaks in a more serious tone. “You don’t understand. When I’m like that- Foul Legacy isn’t me. I’m not able to control myself- it’s all instincts, there’s no self control, there’s no thinking, only doing. It’s-it’s like I’m an animal. And I don’t want you to see me like that and be… scared of me.”
You, very calmly and methodically, explain to him: That. Is. Exactly. What. You. Want.
After that night, it still takes another week's worth of convincing before you get him to agree, and then another week of prep before the big day. And when it finally comes, you can’t help but feel a twinge of regret over not listening to Childe’s warnings. Because oh holy shit. That’s a lot bigger than you had been expecting-
You had seen Foul Legacy before, of course, but only from far away. Up close was a whole new thing. It was 10 feet. Easily. Childe Foul Legacy absolutely towered over you, you couldn’t hide how you trembled and practically cowered underneath its watch. Dressed intricately in an array of dark purples and reds, purple sparks crackled and fizzled in the air surrounding it. The only hint of Childe remaining was the messy nest of ginger hair that stuck out from behind Foul Legacy’s mask (face? You couldn’t tell).
You understood what Childe meant. This wasn’t him, this was Foul Legacy.
“Is this what you wanted?”
You flinch as you hear Foul Legacy speak, forcing your head into a shaky nod. Its voice is deep, scratchy, and barely recognizable as Childe’s. Despite the words clearly ringing through the room, there’s no movement from its mask.
“Good.”
You could’ve sworn Foul Legacy teleported to infront of you. One moment it was across the room, the next, its black claws found your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and tossing you onto the mattress.
You landed with a soft “thump”, getting no to time to catch your breath before Foul Legacy’s hands are already back on you. Its claws dig into your hips- tiny rivulets of blood flowing from where the razor sharp points pierces your skin- and it lifts.
A startled yelp comes out of your throat as your lower body is lifted up and Foul Legacy moves its head between your legs. You hardly get a chance to scream in horror as its mouth opens- a long, thick, dark purple tongue that immediately dragged roughly over your clit.
You gasped, hands flying to cover your mouth as Foul Legacy ground its tongue against your clit. You rut your hips upwards, whimpering at the way its claws dug deeper into the fat of your hips in warning.
“Childe- Childe please!” You babbled, crying and grabbing at the sheets as you were forced to take the near painful grind of Foul Legacy’s tongue against your clit. It was too much, but it wasn’t enough, and the more Foul Legacy went on, the harder you sobbed, eventually, a painful orgasm crashing into you like a freight train.
Foul Legacy’s tongue continued to rub against you- working you through your orgasm till you were once again squirming in overstimulation.
You didn’t get any time to recover before you were once again dropped down onto the mattress- hazily worrying about the blood ruining the sheets before you froze.
There was no way. There was no way that was going to fit inside of you. It was at least 14 inches, for Christ's sake. And why the hell was it thicker than your upper arm?
You hastily pushed yourself up, opening your mouth to call out Childe’s name- only to have your ankles grabbed and shoved up past your head- your body now completely bent in half.
You cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking as you felt that same long tongue flicker across were Foul Legacy’s bloody claws were holding your ankles- shivering as you felt it lick the blood up- eventually moving to the punctures on your hips and lapping up the blood that ran down your skin.
By the time you cracked your eye open, Foul Legacy had finished with the blood- bitting, licking, and sucking across your thighs as it made its way closer and closer to your still sensitive pussy.
You bucked your hips away, squirming and begging as you tried to get through to Childe.
“No no no no- Childe! I’m too sensitive! You were too rough! Don’t use your tongue again!!”
Foul legacy looked up at you, an angry growl and tight ting of the claws at your wrists was all you needed to be frightened back into compliance.
You bit your cheek and looked away, a whiny whimper escaping from your throat as the head of Foul Legacy’s monstrous cock rubbed against your sore clit.
Well- at least it listened to you-
Although you weren’t sure you were grateful once it started pushing in. No matter how wet you had been, it would’ve hurt either way.
You couldn’t help it, you screamed. loud and pained until Foul Legacy shoved its tongue down your open mouth, muffling your screams as the large muscle wiggled its way past the muscles at the back of your throat, leaving you sobbing and gagging around it as the painful stretch of its cock only grew worse.
All the while, you were staring up. Not at your boyfriend, but at whatever he had become.
Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you struggled to breath around the tongue intent on making its way down your throat. The lack of oxygen at least partially distracted you from the burning stretch of your hole.
Foul Legacy didn’t remove its tongue from your mouth until you were too lost in pleasure to care about the pain. You couldn’t help but scream- the way Foul Legacy’s cock bullied it’s way inside of you- going deeper and deeper with each thrust, till it could bottom out easily with each thrust-
You were absolutely leaking around its cock, babbling and clenching as each of Foul Legacy’s thrusts sent the bed rocking and you bouncing.
You were too far gone to even care when you looked down- seeing Foul Legacy’s cock covered in blood as It roughly thrusted in and out- growling things about breeding you, filling you up, telling you that you’d make such a strong mother for its offspring.
Even when you came, Foul legacy didn’t stop, fucking you through not just that orgasm- but another one after it. By the time Foul Legacy finally did finish, you were hardly more than a fucked out mess beneath it. It’s hips stuttering and grinding into you as it filled you with waves and waves of cum- till it spilled out from your pussy, even while you were still stretched out on its cock.
Even then, Foul Legacy didn’t pull out, it kept you on its cock, curling its massive body around you protectively as you fell asleep almost immediately.
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
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whirlybirbs · 27 days
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— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗
summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag
It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist. 
It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?
Your head hurts.
You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle. 
It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge. 
I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'. 
You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang. 
You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter. 
...You never did text Dabi. 
You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment. 
No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.
The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow. 
Things are great! 
You shouldn't text Dabi.
But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?
Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?
You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week. 
You're sure the novelty will wear off. 
He's probably not even going to respond. 
You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account. 
It's done.
You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen. 
...Now what?
Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny. 
...So, there are two options. 
Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught. 
You shouldn't text Dabi.
...But, you do.
Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.
However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you. 
His lips twist into a scowl. 
He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth. 
He never liked this club anyway.
He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch. 
He's tryna quit.
He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore. 
The number on the screen isn't one he knows.
Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.
The text is one word:
hi.
Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through. 
← 909.999.3399 ;  11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl
→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u
There's no way.
Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen. 
Did he seriously text you back immediately?
You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.
→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty
Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is. 
You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate. 
← 909.999.3399 ;  11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?‎
Dabi's fingers move fast.
→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called
You snort a little.
← 909.999.3399 ;  11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.
Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward. 
→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????
He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.
He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again. 
When you start typing, the bubble disappears. 
← 909.999.3399 ;  11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint 
→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service  him and nuri looked cozy
← 909.999.3399 ;  11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him
→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl
Typing... 
Typing...
→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p
The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected. 
← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm nah i'm not stupid
→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy.... really lame of u tbh coulda been fun
← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun
→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me
Oh, what the fuck.
Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society. 
You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.  
→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later
You shouldn't have texted Dabi.
But you did. 
238 notes · View notes
kikyo-writes · 1 year
Text
"I like you, okay?!"
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summary: katsuki struggles to confess to his crush.
tags: fluff, fem!reader
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Katsuki is good at a lot of things, but when it comes to romance, he is a hopeless fool.  
In his defense, it’s not his fault. He’s spent the vast majority of his life focusing on one goal and one goal only—honing his Quirk so that he can become the Number One Hero. And he always thought that his attention would never sway, free of any unnecessary distractions.  
Until he met you.  
At the start of the first year at U.A, Katsuki didn’t think much of you. Well, he didn’t think much of any of his classmates, for that matter, but slowly but surely, the days passed, and he found his gaze lingering on you for a lot longer than he would’ve liked to admit.  
Katsuki tries to deny it at first. Something about you makes him feel... off. He's not sure why his chest gets uncomfortably tight when you speak to him, and it also doesn’t make any sense why his face heats up like never before. Maybe he’s sick, but if that were really the case, then he’s somehow been sick for the past few months.  
It takes someone else’s meddling for Katsuki to finally put the pieces together.  
“So, Bakugou, what’s up with you and [Name]?” Kaminari asks. “It feels like you treat her a bit differently than everyone else. Do you have a crush on her or something?”  
Kaminari was half-joking, but when Katsuki’s cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson—enough to rival his piercing eyes—everyone around him gasps.  
“Dude,” Kirishima chuckles. “No way. You actually like her, huh?”  
“The hell I do!” Katsuki immediately snaps back, but his voice cracks, and based on the way everyone smirks at him, he can tell he must not be very convincing.  
Kaminari grins. “Wow, I hit the nail right on the head! You’ve gotta confess, man! [Name]’s really popular, so if you wait around too long, someone else might beat you to it!”  
“You idiots are out of your damn minds,” Katsuki grits out, and without wasting a beat, he shoves his hands in his pockets and stomps off.  
They’re just being stupid like always. Seriously, him, having a crush on someone? The Bakugou Katsuki? As if he has the time or energy to waste on mushy shit like that. It’s so ridiculous he’s almost tempted to laugh.  
But then he takes a moment to consider Kaminari’s words.  
“If you wait around too long, someone else might beat you to it.”  
Katsuki isn’t sure why, but he briefly imagines you being asked out by another person, someone who isn’t him. He imagines you laughing with them, hooking your arm around theirs, and last but certainly not least, leaning forward to meet them in a kiss.  
The image evokes a visceral reaction from him, and in that moment, he swears his heart nearly stops beating. 
And then comes the realization.  
Oh, fuck.  
He’s in deep shit.  
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As much as Katsuki would like to say that he’s made progress since realizing that he likes you, that unfortunately isn’t the case.  
If anything, the self-awareness has just made things worse. Before, he could at least talk to you like a semi-normal person, but now, your interactions usually go something like this:  
“Good morning, Katsuki,” you greet. “How’d you do on yesterday’s assignment? To be honest, I was kind of rushing to finish it on time. It felt like it was harder than usual.”  
Katsuki parts his lips to respond, but the longer he stares at you, the faster his heart races.  
He ends up walking away out of sheer embarrassment.  
“Man,” Kirishima sighs. “That was painful to watch.”
“Shut up!” Katsuki hisses. “What the fuck do you want me to do?!”  
“Just be normal. Be yourself.” Kirishima pauses for a few moments. “Actually... maybe that’s not the best advice.”  
“Oh, piss off!"  
It goes on like this for a while. Every time you engage him in casual, friendly conversation, Katsuki finds himself freezing up completely. It’s ironic, because he has the confidence to take on fearsome villains with ease, and yet this is what has him scared shitless.  
Goddammit. Katsuki never realized that liking someone would be such a test of his strength.  
Unfortunately, he’s too caught up in his own feelings that he doesn’t stop to consider how all of this looks from your perspective.  
“Katsuki,” you approach him one day, and for some reason, you’re frowning. “Hey. Can you please be honest with me? Did I do something to upset you, or what? Because it feels like you’ve been ignoring me lately.”  
He blinks. “What? No. If I had a problem with you, I’d tell you.”  
“Well, that’s what I thought too. So then... why do you keep avoiding me? Does it just bore you having to listen to me talk?”  
Hardly. Katsuki could probably listen to you talk for hours upon hours without getting bored. You have a pretty face, a pretty voice, and whenever you smile or laugh, it makes him want to do the same.  
It suddenly dawns on him that this is probably the best chance he’ll get. It’ll be bad news if he lets this misunderstanding drag out any further. He doesn’t want you to think that you don’t like him, because that’s the furthest thing from the truth.  
Come on. He can do this. He’s Bakugou Katsuki, for fuck’s sake. It’s time to stop acting like a coward and own up to how he feels.  
“I,” Katsuki starts shakily, “I...”  
You raise a brow. “You...?”  
“I...”  
“...?”  
Holy shit, this is so much harder than he anticipated. He’ll take a punch to the face over a confession any day of the week.  
But no, he can’t give up, goddammit! Again, he’s Bakugou Katsuki! Resident badass! The (self-proclaimed) future Number One Hero! 
The words feel like bile rushing up his esophagus, and even though they burn like hell, he finally, finally manages to spit them out.  
“I like you, okay?!”  
He did it. He’s violently flushed in the face and keeps having to gasp to reclaim his breath, but at long last, the truth is out in the open.  
And now for the part that he didn’t even stop to consider. Seeing how you'll react.  
“Oh,” you blink in response. You’re visibly taken aback, and you clear your throat, stopping to ponder your next words. “Well, that’s—”  
“Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don’t want to hear it!”  
Katsuki books it the hell out of there before he can hear what you have to say. He supposes he’s unlocked a new fear: rejection. The way he handled this whole situation is lame, it’s childish as hell, and he knows it, but when it comes to this stuff, it looks like he’s much more of a coward than he first thought.  
Meanwhile, you giggle softly as you watch him run off.  
“What a dork. He didn’t even wait for me to say I like him back.”  
1K notes · View notes
shushmal · 3 months
Text
Stranger to Myself (I think of Home)
For @steddie-week Day 5! Rated T — Check the tags and content warnings!
Eddie is a monster.
Eddie started watching Steve because it didn’t hurt so bad. Didn’t hurt like it does with every glimpse he catches of Wayne, of Dustin. The people who had loved Eddie when he was Eddie. But Steve—Steve was safe. Steve was a boy Eddie knew in passing glances and high school gossip, a guy who was laughing with his friends in another room at every party, a man who planted his feet and fought monsters and helped save the world. Steve who told Eddie to be safe, because Steve was kind when he didn't have to be, when he wasn't expected to—so Eddie finds himself watching Steve instead.
Because Eddie is a monster, and Steve knows exactly what to do with monsters. Eddie knows this.
To Steve, it wouldn't matter that Eddie is the last little bit of the apocalypse still kicking around Hawkins. Eddie who had been chewed up and spat out of hell at the last second, just before the final dungeon slammed shut, sneaking through the shadows unseen, past the unsuspecting heroes wrapped up in their victory. Past his friends, the people who had tried to keep Eddie safe. Past Dustin, who’s face had already been changed by grief.
Past Steve, as well. Steve, who told Eddie to be safe, and Eddie hadn’t.
Eddie wonders sometimes, what Vecna really had in mind for him. 
But Eddie is just an unfinished experiment, not quite who he used to be, but not yet the thing Vecna had been trying to twist him into, before the wrinkly ballsack bastard bit it and disintegrated into dust like some b-grade horror movie villain written by some unimaginative hack that shouldn’t have even been in the writer’s room.
He’s the last piece of the Upside Down, Vecna’s last monster, but Eddie’s worst crime post-resurrection is a bit of misdemeanor stalking, simple battery, and animal cruelty. A guy’s gotta eat, afterall. It had taken a while to figure out his own exact brand of vampirism, but Eddie’s gone a few years now without killing anything or anyone. He would be proud of it, but instead he watches Steve make dinner and feels sick on the aftertaste of iron and salt still coating his tongue.
Eddie had started watching Steve because it didn’t hurt, because Steve would take care of it, if Eddie ever needed to be put down. Eddie knows this.
So, it didn’t hurt so bad to watch Steve—until it did. 
By then, Eddie was too far gone and couldn’t stop.
His Steve who came back to his lonely castle, days and days after that final battle, after the climax of the story, the end of a legend, still bloody and scorched, none the wiser to the monster peering through his windows, watching. And that was Eddie’s first clue, that was how Eddie first learned that he wasn’t really Eddie anymore—that nervous energy he used to have in life had died with him. Now he sits motionless in the tall pines behind Steve’s house for hours and days, unmoving, as he watches Steve live. 
Sometimes, Steve looks out his window, eyes scanning the treetops like he knows Eddie’s there. Everytime, Eddie sits up a little straighter, like a dog eager for attention. But everytime, Steve’s eyes drift past him, unseeing, searching.
It leaves Eddie—already out of step with life, with humanity—a little unsettled, a little too hopeful. Eddie is a thing that shouldn’t be seen ever again, a dead man without a heartbeat, without breath in his lungs, without a reason to exist and yet still here. He wishes he were still dead. He wishes even more that Steve knew he was there, that Steve was looking for him. But Eddie knows better. Eddie can’t go to Steve, because Eddie is a monster and Steve has fought enough monsters. Eddie doesn’t want to get added to the list. He doesn’t want to do that to Steve.
Eddie sits in the trees instead, unmoving and watching for days and weeks. Sometimes he leaves, to feed. Sometimes he stands in the middle of Steve’s empty house when he’s gone, breathing in the lonely silence. Sometimes, he closes his eyes and dreams.
But they’re never his own dreams.
And he never, ever visits anyone else in their sleep, in their dreams and nightmares. No one, except for Steve. His Steve, who’s dreaming of a summer day, sun high in the sky, sitting on the top of skull rock with a six pack and a cigarette. It’s such a simple, beautiful dream. All of Steve’s dreams are like that. Eddie watches the line of Steve’s neck as he tilts his head back in the sunlight, face catching the July warmth.
Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie sits beside him. Just leans in until his head rests on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful, Eddie wants to cry.
“I miss you,” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. He presses a smile into Eddie’s jacket. “Isn’t that silly? I barely even knew you.”
Eddie has to swallow back the emotion filling his throat. “Yeah, that’s pretty silly,” he croaks.
“I wanted to though,” Steve sighs. He leans even closer, hands grasping at Eddie’s sleeve, the back of his shirt, and Eddie wishes they could melt into each other, become one thing, become Steve with just Eddie hiding between Steve’s ribs, in his blood, sitting in the center of his chest right next to his heart. “I wanted to know you. I wanted to kiss you so bad.”
If this were real, if they were really sitting on skull rock in the sunlight right now, if Eddie was human, he would be crying. But here, in Steve’s dream, he doesn’t, can’t. Maybe Steve doesn’t want him to be sad.
“Really?” he breathes instead. “Me?”
Steve hums, his hand sliding down into Eddie’s, fingers warm, soft. “Robin calls you my Great Bisexual Awakening.”
Eddie barks a laugh, throwing his head back. He wants to be sobbing, but he laughs instead and when he stops, Steve is looking up at him, painted dream soft and sweet. They watch each other, Eddie cataloging the specks of gold and green in Steve’s eyes. He’s beautiful. 
But then Steve blinks, and the corner of his mouth turns down, smile falling away. Eddie feels his skin prickle. He feels watched.
“I miss you,” Steve says again, urgent. And then, just like that, he smiles again, and the feeling’s gone, and Steve presses his face once more into Eddie’s shoulder. “Tell me something.”
Eddie tries to shake off the feeling of disquiet, to relax back into the tenderness of Steve’s dream. “Like what?”’
“Something I don’t know.” He’s beautiful, so beautiful, and Eddie adores him, loves him so much.
“I wanted to kiss you, too.”
Eddie opens his eyes, his breath sharp in the silent forest, and watches as Steve sits up in his bed, gripping the blankets tight in his fists. Even from here, in his haven in the trees, he can see the tears on Steve’s face. He never wants Steve to cry.
When morning comes, he steals into Steve’s home, buries himself in the lingering warmth of his sheets after Steve leaves for work. The fading smell of him is intoxicating, even the salty sting of Steve’s tears, and Eddie wants so desperately. Wants him from the pain in his throat, the hitch in his breath, the way he’s been hollowed from the inside out. Everything has been taken out of Eddie, scooped from between his ribs and scraped smooth, an empty jack o’lantern waiting to rot on the front step. 
The wanting is worse than the starving, the thirst. Eddie can’t cry anymore, he isn’t human enough to, but he wishes he could.
Instead, he lays in Steve’s bed, breathes him in, and disappears into the woods behind Steve’s home when he hears the rumble of Steve’s car turn onto the street. He watches as Steve falls into the bed, long gone cold since Eddie has soaked up all the warmth from the blankets in the long hours of Steve's absence. He watches, a monster, as Steve’s eyes glance through the window, eyes on the trees. Straightens up, hoping and wanting, and slumps as that gaze slides past him. He watches Steve’s evening with longing building in his chest, and when Steve slips beneath his covers, Eddie closes his eyes.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks.
Steve is sitting on the edge of his roof in this dream, watching the forest intently. He doesn’t turn his head towards Eddie, caught on a particular spot in the woods.
“You, I think. At least, I think it’s you. I hope it’s you.”
Eddie leans in close, hoping that Steve will turn his eyes, to look at Eddie, to give him that sweet, dreamy smile. “You shouldn’t bother waiting for something like me,” he tells Steve, desperate for those pretty eyes to look at him. “You should be happy.”
“I am happy,” Steve murmurs. He doesn’t look happy. He doesn’t look at Eddie. He watches the distant trees, standing guard. “I’m happy waiting. I think I can wait forever.”
Eddie doesn’t dare touch him, doesn’t dare turn Steve’s head. Even though it hurts. It hurts so bad, so Eddie opens his eyes. In the distance, Steve turns in his bed, chest expanding with a sleepy sigh, and doesn’t leave his dreams.
Morning comes again, and the night falls again, morning and night and morning. Eddie rises from his perch, glides closer to the empty house to steal through the unlocked door. He lays in Steve’s bed, in the shadow of Steve’s warmth left on the sheets. Breathes him in, even though Eddie needs no air. He leaves when he hears the rumble of a familiar engine. Night falls. He closes his eyes.
Eddie watches the way Steve sits on the edge of his roof again, feet dangling, eyes scanning the treeline at the back of his house, quiet and sentry. Like he’s waiting for another monster to appear between the tree trunks. Eddie sits beside him, and doesn’t speak, not even when Steve whispers, only once.
“I miss you.”
Morning comes again, and then night. Sun and moon, wax and wane. The summer heat does not bother Eddie, nor does the winter snow. He imagines building a family of snowmen in Steve’s yard, company for a lonely house. No one visits Steve here. Like they’d forgotten Steve altogether, and Eddie’s the only one left to bear witness to Steve Harrington. Steve who is lonely, who sleeps and dreams and waits for the monster in the woods. Or maybe…
Maybe Steve told them not to come here. Because here is only for Steve, and only for Eddie.
Night falls, and then the morning breaks. Steve doesn’t rise from the bed.
Uneasily, Eddie shifts. Snow slides from his shoulders, landing in heavy thumps on the forest floor below him. He watches as Steve rolls onto his back, arm over his eyes, mouth twisted in pain. Even from here, he can see the tears on Steve’s face. He watches Steve lay in bed the entire day, until night falls. Eddie closes his eyes.
Steve’s dream isn’t a dream this time—a vast darkness instead, stretching long and far. Eddie takes a hesitant step. Water splashes beneath his bare foot. He turns.
And suddenly, it’s like he can hear Steve in his ear, whispering, “I’m happy waiting. I think I can wait forever.”
Eddie turns again, and Steve is there, watching, waiting. Eddie feels the instinct of it, the prickling awareness of being seen. It settles over his skin, sharp and biting like ants. Eddie is the monster, and Steve has found him. His gaze roots Eddie where he stands, water lapping against his toes. The ripples roll away from him, stretching the unreachable distance between Eddie and Steve, distant stars, until they crash against Steve’s feet, and the water settles again, falls calm.
“I miss you though,” Steve whispers, right into Eddie’s ear. “I can wait forever, but I miss you.”
“Really?” Eddie asks. It echoes through the dark. He can see the way Steve smiles, even from so far away.
“Of course,” Steve whispers. “I’m waiting for—”
Dawn breaks through the trees, and Eddie opens his eyes with a gasp. The sound is sharp through the silent forest. Morning mist rises from the pine strewn ground. Steve isn’t in his bed anymore, and Eddie feels himself almost panic, gaze searching.
Searching, until he finds Steve, not even three feet up, sitting above his window on the roof. He stares out into the trees, stares right at Eddie, finally sees the monster in the woods. That gaze raises the hair on Eddie’s arm, animal instinct tightening his muscles, his bones. Steve watches him from his perch on the roof, watches Eddie watch him back. 
He’s the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen.
Because Steve’s not standing guard. He’s waiting. Waiting for the thing in the woods, for Eddie to finally come home.
Eddie shouldn’t, shouldn’t go to him, but now that he knows, how can he make Steve wait a moment longer? 
Steve gasps when he appears, but it’s not fear in his eyes when he looks at Eddie. Eddie feels it again, feels watched, feels seen. Steve looks up at him and his smile is the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen.
“There you are,” he whispers. “I missed you."
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eupheme · 3 months
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— cabin down below
dieter bravo x actress!f!reader
rated e - 1.8k
tags: cabining, co-stars-with-benefits, mentions of alcohol, references to sex and horror films, implied paparazzi trying to catch them together, oral sex
ahh nervous to post this (first time writing for him!) but excited about this gorgeous moodboard I recieved for Summer Lovin’ 24! 🏕️💖 thanks so much for hosting @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery!
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Dieter really can talk you into anything.
The official table read is on Monday, scenes due to start shooting soon after. You really shouldn’t be thirty miles out of town right now - leaving the comforts of your apartment and the air conditioning of the limo, to hike another mile into the forest.
But you’ll trade the luxury for a chance to spend time with him. An old spot, he said. His dad’s cousin’s place, bought it off him when they needed the money. Been in the family for years.
“You gotta immerse yourself,” Dieter had told you, his arms spreading wide, “What better place to practice lines than here?”
It’s your first time in a movie with him. You’re not sure if he’s really a method actor. Equally not sure that it’s needed for a movie called Campground Carnage II - or if the city just seemed a little too loud, a little too busy.
Deep down, you hope it might just be an excuse to get you alone.
You'd be pretty alright with that.
It’s been hard to sneak around Los Angeles. There’s cameras everywhere. An obsession with one Dieter Bravo - the current hottest, most eccentric star.
You’d met before his last big break. Reading lines for Covert Affairs, but they had passed over the mutual chemistry for an actress with a little more weight to her name.
He had gotten the part, and you had gotten his number. Two desperate hookups when you both ended up in Vegas at the same time.
Only to come back together a year later.
“Long Island,” He had smiled, when he saw you, “Good to see you again.”
You had been surprised he remembered you, much less the drink he had bought. Enough alcohol in both your systems that you would’ve forgiven him if he had.
Not that you would have, though. Not with that mouth of his.
Something that you’re thinking about now, as the trees clear. The cabin tucked between them - a peeking sliver of a river cutting through the terrain behind it.
A cozy little thing, not much bigger than the apartment you’re missing. Built with thick wooden logs, two tidy windows out front, the checkered curtain pulled shut.
The key ring twirls on his finger, as Dieter moves ahead to unlock the door.
You can’t help appreciating the view, as he does. This ‘camping’ look suits him. It’s almost enough to make you a little jealous of his ability to look good in anything and everything he throws on.
A tight black tee, the hat that’s pulled down over his messy curls. Featuring an embroidered trout, with “fish want me, women fear me” scripted above and below that he found at a garage sale. Patterned crocs with matching shorts that only reach mid-thigh.
And you're at least 45-percent sure the fanny pack around his waist is filled with condoms and KitKats.
It’s been hard to keep your mind off him, on the drive over. Battering his wandering hands away, with the driver only a few feet from you. Still shy, both enthralled and not used to his open affection.
Trying to concentrate on the script. Preparing to run lines, just in case his suggestion for this weekend wasn’t some kind of euphemism.
But you kept going back to a particular scene. The two counselors - that’s you and him - sneaking off to one of the cabins in the campground.
A steamy encounter involving both the top and bottom of a bunk bed, and a lot of Bravo on his knees. Anything to showcase his physique, you’re already picturing how they’ll stage it with the female gaze in mind.
Bare back, you’re guessing. A hint of ass, but still tasteful.
The scene a fake-out - featuring a jump scare, with the shadow of a person passing by the windows behind you. Tapping into that classic trope - first to fuck, first to die.
Which might be true - if it was his first movie.
He doesn’t actually make it to the end, though. Dieter’s demise coming from a staged accident in the fishing lake, just as the movie lulls into a sense of safely. One final blow before the big reveal.
You know people will be pissed about that. As a fan of the series, even you are a little.
But the thought of having a scene with him - there is a flicker of excitement, that dulled heat in your belly - even though you know that logically, it will all be purely professional.
It’s still fun to imagine.
The door cracks open, but there’s something else with the sound. You frown, your head whipping towards the woods behind you. Searching for the source of the noise, one that sounded a little too familiar.
“Did I just hear a camera click?”
“Nah,” Dieter shrugs, “There’s no way they know about this place.”
"Yeah,” You hum, giving another glance. There’s nothing but the rustle of trees, the rush of the water. A self-conscious laugh, as you head inside, “Maybe I’m immersing myself too much.”
“No hauntings or serial killers here, sweetheart.” He smiles, “But if you’re scared I have a few ideas to get your mind off things…”
The door clicks shut behind him.
Your eyebrow arches, “Oh yeah? Like what?”
Dieter pretends to think, as he advances on you. Hands reaching out to trace up your sides, pulling you flush against him.
“Can think of a scene I’d like to start with,” He husks, eyes darkening, “There’s no bunk bed here, but I think we can make do.
Hunger flares in you, now that you're alone. Your eyes dip to the curl of his mouth, no more than a breath before you’re pressing your lips to his. A rough moan as his hands slide up your back, his tongue already brushing across your lower lip.
Tasting sweet when they part for him, your own moan swallowed as you lose your grip on your bag, letting it tumble to the floor.
It’s always so easy to get lost in him. If you’re not careful, you might just get swept away.
“You don’t want to see what the directors have in mind?” You tease, when you pull back for a breath, “Hold off on that scene until later?”
“No can do.” Dieter groans, as he pulls you back to him, “Not with you looking like this.”
You can’t help the smile, as you start the stumbling journey through the main room, wandering hands and the press of mouths.
His hand grasping your ass as your fingers slip under his shirt - the other reaching for the door he has you backed up against. A creaking swing, as it opens.
Dieter’s hands are at your hips, as soon as the back of your knees hit the bed.
“Let me taste you, baby.” It’s mumbled against your lips. His fingers dipping beneath your waistband. A nail tracing the edge of your underwear, raising goosebumps, “Been thinking about it all day.”
You remember this from before. How focused he gets. Willing to beg, shameless, if there’s something he wants.
And you’re always willing to give.
The bed is soft - covered in worn buffalo-checkered sheets - as you let yourself be lowered onto it. His hands catch your ankles, tugging you down until your legs drape off the edge.
Spread wide, so he can fit between them as he kneels. Batting your hand away as you go to push down your shorts.
“I wanna do it.” He hums. His own shorts already pulled tight, a hand coming to palm himself in anticipation.
Your hips lift for him. Nails bite into skin, grasping fabric and pulling down both layers. Easing them around the bulk of your gym shoes so his palms can press into your thighs, spreading them even wider.
A rough noise, when he sees you.
“You been thinking about this too, babe?” He coos, a thumb pressing against your slit. Rolling against the wet gleam of your center, as it betrays your desire.
You huff, the muscles in your legs flexing. Breath held as your eyes flit up to his, waiting. Watching, as he sucks your slick from his skin with a groan.
“Bet you were. Saw you eye-fucking me in the limo, all while telling me to keep my hands to myself.”
"I-I," You try to answer. To protest - to say you weren't - but his palms are smoothing up your skins. Distracting, as he slowly moves.
Those eyes focused on yours as his head tips. An open-mouthed kiss to your knee, then thigh. Moving up, as your heart races.
Inner thigh, now.
"Dee," There's a buck of your hips, with your whine, “Don’t tease.”
It’s futile, you’re certain. Unable to take what you dish out. But perhaps he’s been pushed too far as well.
“Tell me you need it.” His pupils are blown-wide, drunken already.
It’s easy to answer.
“Please. I need you.”
The next kiss is right against your slit. Messy, as his mouth covers you. Your fingers twisting in the blanket, as your knees press against his shoulders.
He’s too good. Teasing with the wet brush of his tongue. The slow creep of his fingers, the tip of one pressing against your entrance - only to withdraw just as you clench down.
Again, and then again. Slowly sinking into you, one knuckle at a time. Working you open, until you’re stretched wide around three of them - too full to form words.
“Don’t need direction for this,” His eyes flip to yours, a dimpled smile as his fingers sink deep and then curl, “Do I, baby?”
He does it again, as your answer pitches high. Your hips bucking into his touch as his tongue licks at you again. Timing it so that the point of his tongue teases your clit, each time his fingers rub against the spongey spot inside you.
He’s going to make you come. You’re too wound up, too needy for him.
“Fuck, Dieter.” You keen - your leg hooking over his shoulder, “Oh fuck, keep doing that-“
“That’s it baby,” He grins, “Improvise for me.”
It makes you laugh, which has him groaning as you tighten around his fingers. His left hand dropping to push down the waistband of his shorts. Fingers pulling from you only long enough to smear your arousal on his cock, to pump his fist until he’s covered.
It’s then that you think you hear it again. Just as his tongue slips inside you. Another mechanical sound from outside, just barely audible through the wooden walls.
“Dee,” You moan, fingers twisting in his hair. Either to pull him closer or push him away, you’re not sure, “I d-definitely heard-”
“Can’t see in here.” It’s mumbled out, gasped between your thighs.
He’s seen to that, at least. The blinds thick, the bedroom tucked away.
A grin, as his tongue flattens - licking from hole to clit, “Wasn’t planning on leaving, anyways.”
You trust him, knowing he wouldn't leave you vulnerable. The sound in your throat is muffled as your teeth clench, “But they-, what if they hear us?”
It’s only now that his head lifts, those dark eyes blown wide. Paired with a lazy smile, his lips shining as they stretch wide.
A soft croon.
“Then I guess you’d better be quiet.”
Your laugh turns into a soft groan, at the flick of his tongue. Self-conscious perhaps, but not wholly and entirely deterred by the thought of an audience.
Not when you’re with him.
“Keep that up,” You manage - as something molten floods through your belly, “And you might have to help a girl out.”
His weight presses into you as he moves up - heated, bare skin as he settles between your thighs. Dieter’s nose skimming your throat, as his hand slips between your thighs.
Just before his mouth presses to yours, swallowing you moan.
“That, baby… I can do.”
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just wanted to try something fun 🏕️ thank you so much for reading! and thanks again for this awesome event!
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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okay i just saw you in the anakin tag and i always love talking about this dude so hopefully ur willing to listen to my subby anakin truthing 🙏 i think he likes to get his dick stepped on (with boots specifically i think this guy has a boot/leather kink) and he gets really pathetic and needy like 'will get down on his knees and grind against your leg for attention' needy. 'near tears whining and pleading literally every day' needy. can you tell i like the thought of this guy on his knees.
send me dirty anakin thoughts <33
first off i'm SO SORRY this took me so long to answer i was gonna do it right away but time escaped me - ANYWAYS!!!
this post is 18+, minors dni.
there is just something about him sprawled out over the floor with tight briefs on that are practically ripping at the seams from how hard his cock is as he watches the rubber sole of your boot get tantalizingly close.. anon i want you to know you awakened something in me
You always tease him about it, you hover your boot over his bulge and ask him if he's sure he wants you to do this, 'cause it's gonna hurt and the last thing you wanna do is hurt your precious ani :(((( and there's tears in his eyes as he nods aggressively, practically giving himself a concussion with how vigorously he's shaking his head. He's pleading, begging, telling you he's been waiting all day and he wants it to hurt and he wants you to hurt him please won't you just do what he's asking you to do?
he likes being sort of slouched up against something when you do it, because then he can watch without craning his neck, but if you're particularly stern with him that day you'll put him flat on his back and make him look you in the eyes while you do it so that he doesn't know when its coming. that makes him extra desperate, 'cause he's expecting it any second now and when you finally give in he's writhing on the floor, eyes snapped shut with tears leaking from their corners about how sorry he is for upsetting you earlier and how grateful he is that you're still giving him what he wants
He likes seeing you leave a footprint over his briefs (he always wears white ones) and if you let him kneel while you do it - (kind of an awkward angle for you 'cause you've gotta bend your legs and sort of crouch but it's his favorite position to be in and who are you to deny him?) - he buries his face in your underwear and cries out when you finally lower your shoe over his bulge. Any increase in pressure from you means a louder groan from him, and he clutches at your thighs with a force that etches crescent moon shapes into your skin from his nails.
he'll always give you head while he's in there, either burying his face in your clothed cunt so hard that he manages to worm his way beneath your panties to tongue your pussy, or clutching desperately at the hemline of your underwear to suck your cock into his mouth and slobber all over it.
he's very gracious!! he'll blabber 'thank you- thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou' while you're maintaining steady pressure over his dick, and his face is wet and messy and drooly when he pulls back from between your legs.
he is big on begging for it! he gets off on it even more when you act like you're ignoring him, he'll shuffle up to you on his knees where you're sitting on the couch and he'll ask you to please step on him, but you tell him that you just 'can't right now', you're very busy and he's going to have to wait. so he tries convincing you by mouthing between your legs, drooling over the pad of your panties and pulling them aside to lick at your cunt, or he'll rub his face against your bulge while whining. he straddles your boot while he does it, grinding his cock against the leather and probably soaking through his briefs with precum.
you know exactly what he's doing, and sometimes you try to be stern with him, but you're not that strong, let's be honest. you can murmur 'anakin...' all you want in that warning tone of voice but he'll plead and beg with you just to let him make you feel good, because he's so desperate and he needs to taste you and he promises you can still work while he's doing it.
more often than not you end up caving, but you know he likes it when you 'ignore' him, so you'll keep your eyes on your work and not show any reaction to how fantastically he's making out with your sex and you'll gently, slowly move your foot with your leg bent to press against his bulge. it's rock hard, and it makes him whimper, his hands flying to your thighs to dig into them and beg for more.
he loves being at your mercy like that, especially when you're ignoring him, because it just makes him feel so dirty and filthy and worthless to be stepped on by you without even looking at him, like he's some pathetic little nuisance you're only satiating because you feel bad he's so desperate for you. and he is, he's mind-bogglingly desperate for you, so he owns it, and begs you to step on his cock
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konigsblog · 2 months
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I’d like to direct those sending hate to people simply writing dark content to holding adult video sites accountable if they want to achieve some kind of moral victory.
There have been multiple instances of sites like 🌽 hub taking genuine footage of rape/SA and refusing to remove it even when requested multiple times by the victim. Some of their heavier ‘consensual’ bondage vids etc have been said to involve deliberately pushing expressed boundaries by female actors that have do things they didn’t originally agree to for fear of loosing their job. These are real people- their experiences are REAL and have a lasting physical, social and mental effect.
Ghost, König etc are not real. Y/n, is a reader insert of course, but you are never in genuine danger. Everything you ‘put yourself’ into in these fics, can stop at the press of a button. You can hate it, hate the author and never interact with them again- problem solved (If only y’all would do that). In real life? A SA/rape survivor has lived through it, suffers from it forever and might have the disgusting burden of having to see their assaulter in the flesh at work, home etc.
To insinuate that a piece of fanfic that can be ignored, that you CHOOSE to engage with is as equally abhorrent as the real act is disgusting. It’s downright offensive. It’s a great discredit to us victims and shows you don’t actually give a damn about us at all.
You’ll be silent when it’s time to hold a harmful industry accountable/silent in the face a thousand men saying that 🌽 actresses ‘deserve it’ but will continually send hate to what is a largely femme community for typing words on a screen that you could avoid so easily. Yeah, I know why, there’s a word for it starting with M :)
On that note, most of these people are dead silent on other fandom issues which proves it’s vendetta, not justice based. They don’t actually care about making it a ‘safe place’ (which is impossible, that’s no one else’s responsibility but your own). Not a peep about racism, for example- can’t be assed making fandom more accessible and less exclusive to POC, gotta go out of their way to harass authors though!
You don’t have to like dark content, or even the authors. You can have limits, disdain bad tagging practices, question respectfully why someone might want to read/write such content, but don’t you dare use victims as a scapegoat or insinuate that you are in any way justified if you choose to harass or bully. Do better; focus your energy somewhere actually productive and deserving of criticism, or shut up and move on.
I agree with absolutely everything you said. These are the same people that consume pornography via porn sites, then sit and complain about people having rape fantasies and consuming dark fiction (key word: fiction). They care more about people's kinks and fantasies and decisions in the bedroom (where both parties have consented beforehand), then they do about the REAL rape tapes on porn sites. It's not just rape either, there's a lot of incredibly fucked-up, illegal, and sickening things on these sites that I won't get into. People have their trauma published, profited off of, and are violated for money, and these sites never take these videos down either.
They care too much about their comfort character being portrayed in a way they don't agree with to focus on the poor souls who have had their trauma uploaded online – and to make money off! Are the COD characters real, or am I missing something? They're fictional characters. Just because you don't agree with a headcannon doesn't mean that everyone else also disagrees. It doesn't determine their morality. And honestly, do I really think these hateful and spiteful people are victims of some form of assault? No, I don't. Because victims of SA/rape (who cope differently) filter things out to prevent themselves from getting triggered. I don't think that these hate anons are actually triggered by the content I upload and just want to judge others for coping differently. They just want to seem more moral – as if your mortality depends on your coping mechanisms/fantasies are. If you don't want to watch a video, you wouldn't choose to watch it anyways. You wouldn't force yourself to watch the entire thing, then come to the comment section and cry about how you're not interested in the topics featured in the video. You watching that video was a decision you made, a choice. You wouldn't take a kid to a horror film that's clearly 18+, then scream at the film directors for creating it in the first place. If you're not the intended audience, then don't stay. There is an audience of people who do enjoy dark fiction, and just because you don't, doesn't mean that it can't exist. The world doesn't only revolve around you. It's selfish and small-minded.
You get taught about fiction and non-fiction in Primary school, and yet here we are, have to tell adults (or at least people who claim they're 18+) the difference between the two. If you can't draw a line between fantasy and reality, then you shouldn't have access to the internet. That's irresponsibility. It's people wanting to be saviours, act as if they have the moral high ground because they disagree and think that it makes them a better person, when it doesn't. If anything, them constantly harassing innocent writers is worse than what they try to portray us dark content writers as. These are the same people wishing rape, death, and doxxing towards writers who have done nothing but be respectful and give out warnings before a story. Dark fiction writers have more empathy and sympathy than these puritans who think they're on top of the world for coping differently, because we actually understand that there are different mechanisms to cope after being sexually assaulted.
I will never apologise for writing what I write. I refuse to walk on eggshells around these anons simply because they can't act mature and manage their own triggers. These people won't bother reading the articles that I've linked countless times, or listen to this entire post. Because they're narrow-minded, that's what narrow-minded folk do. They don't hear other opinions or think for a second, that maybe, just maybe, they're being disrespectful. They claim we're romanticising rape by writing it, but don't bother learning what romanticising actually is. I've said countless times that rape is a disgusting, violating crime that deserves years of punishment. I don't describe what these characters do as IDEAL or something to WANT, if anything, I describe them as horrible people because that's how I see them. They're in the military for God's sake...
When they send hate to an author's askbox, do they think for a second about the effect it'll have? Victims go through years of self hatred and disgust after being traumatised, and when they find a coping mechanism, do you think they want to be told that they deserve to be raped again, or that they're disgusting, or that they're supporting the vile crime? Of course they don't, because they don't support victims at all.
These people are too illiterate to read this entire post. If anything, it'll go right through them. In one ear and out the other. Am I also responsible for the media they consume? As in, horror films? Will I hold their hand and cradle them, rock them to sleep because they don't want to take responsibility? That's life. You have responsibilities. You can't just drop them because you feel like it and then put it on a writer's shoulders because YOU weren't thinking.
And sure, I can see how dark fiction can possibly affect reality. But, that's not my responsibility. If someone is has the urge to rape someone, that's an issue on their behalf, caused by mental illness. I can't control what people do, just like how film directors can't control the effect that their work will have. If people get themselves off to my content, that's not my responsibility. Writers and film directors aren't responsible for the effect it'll have on others, because there are a plethora of factors that can change a reaction towards certain content, like mental illness, for example. Mental illness plays a huge factor.
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