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underdark-dreams · 6 months

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A gift fic for @catsharky featuring their beautiful bard Tav, Ember! Fueled by catsharky's mind and by the amazing art of Ember & blushy Rolan trapped in a closet 😳

Pent Up

"How long has it been?" As the new Master of Ramazith's Tower, Rolan finds himself short on personal time. Then he finds himself trapped up against the bard.

Tags: Trapped in a Closet, Tails, Touch-Starved, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4,383 [Read on AO3]

For all its wonders, Ramazith’s Tower offered a staggering lack of privacy.

Perhaps few wizards had families; Rolan couldn’t think of another good reason why such a palace would have only one decent bedroom within its walls.

It hadn’t seemed like a hindrance the first days Cal and Lia moved in. They’d managed to find their alone time on the road from Elturel where privacy was nonexistent, hadn’t they?

After four weeks of Cal’s snoring and Lia’s constant tossing and turning in their beds beside his, Rolan felt like a bowstring ready to snap. Between the shared quarters and all of the newly inherited duties of managing Sorcerous Sundries, let alone cataloging the Tower itself, Rolan found himself…well. Out of time for his own needs.

More bluntly, if Rolan didn’t get himself off in the next tenday, he feared he might actually burn down a wing of his brand new library from sheer sexual frustration. The thought didn’t even embarrass him at this point—that’s how absolutely desperate he’d grown.

And of course the dreams weren’t helping.

That made Rolan’s focus falter for a moment, and the books he was levitating to the floor above slammed into their shelf with far too much force. He cursed under his breath and concentrated fresh on the next stack of tomes beside him.

Of all the people for his subconscious to latch onto, why, why did it have to be Ember? He respected her and valued her friendship more than just about anyone’s. He looked forward to every moment he got to spend in her company, in fact.

Yet lately, Rolan’s sleeping mind conjured up scenarios where he took her in every position on every surface imaginable.

Pressed into silky sheets—bent in half over his desk—on her hands and knees on the carpet, the wood floor, his own bed, Ember’s fists gripping the bedding beneath her as he—

“Hope you’ve got a good spot to hide up here!”

Rolan heard the jingle of bells behind him before he’d even turned from his work. Her voice sent a pang of mortification through him, as if she too might have glimpsed those images flashing through his mind’s eye.

Ember was dashing toward him from the Tower portal, still dressed in one of her stage costumes. She was barefoot save for a ring of little bells around each ankle, and her tail swung wildly behind her for balance as she ran into the room.

“What in the hells—” Rolan began, this time failing the final gesture of his spell. The tomes that he was carefully guiding upward lurched and crashed against the polished wood, toppling back down several floors. Rolan ducked aside just in time as they landed with a sharp thump at his feet.

“Explain,” he demanded curtly, knowing whatever story the bard had would be outlandish.

“That Aradin, remember?” Ember pulled up in front of him, clutching a stitch in her side. “Stupid bounty hunter? His crew’s downstairs. They seem very put out that he’s dead,” she added, letting out a breathless laugh.

Rolan failed to see the humor. “You mean you led them here? From wherever you were doing your—”

He tried and failed to find the right word, instead waving a hand around her figure. Ember’s attire revealed a strip of bare skin from her neck to her navel, and that sight had scattered Rolan’s thoughts around his skull like marbles.

“The Elfsong,” Ember supplied, not acknowledging his sudden fluster. “They didn’t recognize my stage disguise, but I overheard them planning to come here and shake you down for what’s owed them. You’re welcome for the head start,” she added, propping a fist on her hip.

Rolan tried to ignore the attitude as he bent to pick up his damaged books in a huff. “They do know Lorroakan’s dead too, correct? Whatever contract they had with him was never any of my business.”

Ember spread her arms wide in impatience. “I know that, Rolan, but they’re fucking idiots!”

“Let’s just call Aylin to stomp them to death,” Rolan muttered savagely, not altogether joking.

Rolan had fended off Aradin’s rude threats for his entire apprenticeship, and now that he was Master of the Tower himself, he was in no mood for more of that lot barging in and demanding things. After watching the aasimar dispatch Lorroakan, Rolan suspected that Dame Aylin would share the feeling.

“Nice idea,” Ember allowed, “but unless you’d like blood on your new carpets, I suggest we make ourselves scarce. Like now. You know you’ve still got a portal down there practically labeled ‘Real Nightsong Hunters This Way’?”

This brought Rolan up short with a curse; Ember had a terribly good point there. He could kick himself for not having the sense to fix that glaring security risk before now.

Considering the slew of Gazette articles speculating wildly about how Ramazith’s Tower had fallen into his hands, perhaps it was wise not to add any other deaths to his first month as Master.

When he straightened, Ember was already casting around the cavernous interior for a suitable hiding spot. “There,” she pointed up suddenly.

Apparently done trying to urge him on with words, Ember’s fingers clasped over his, and the next thing Rolan knew she was dragging him bodily up the staircase. The books under his arm tumbled again to the floor.

Through his surprise, Rolan felt something wet between their palms. He glanced to find that her hand was spattered with blood.

“Did they hurt you?” Suddenly furious, Rolan nearly stumbled on a stair behind her. A handful of defensive spells sprang white-hot into his mind.

“Oh, no—” Ember dismissed the idea. “It’s not mine.”

That only raised more questions, but there was no chance to form them as she yanked him onto the open landing. When Ember made a beeline toward the narrow door between two ornate shelves, Rolan tried to object. “That’s only a—”

Ember threw the door open and practically shoved him inside.

“—closet,” Rolan finished deadpan, even as the bard jostled in behind him, swinging the door to its latch behind her. The space was comically small with two people.

Or it would have been comical with someone else.

Instead, Rolan found himself suddenly pressed up far closer to Ember than he ever had been outside his own mind. Standing chest-to-chest, he was painfully aware of every spot where their limbs brushed together—especially when her hand accidentally swung against the robes at his thigh.

It finally made her pick up on the tension radiating around him. Ember cleared her throat, although her eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

“No,” was all Rolan had time to say before the whirling sound of the portal below traveled up to their ears. The two of them froze still. Ember's eyes on his face went wide, as if it might help her hear behind her better.

Over Ember’s shoulder, Rolan could only see a thin vertical sliver of the lower dais through the crack in the closet door, but it was just enough.

Into the room shuffled two men, one dark and one fair. Rolan indeed thought he recognized them from Aradin’s crew back at the Grove. They moved warily across the central floor with hands near their weapons, as if expecting an ambush. When the blonde-haired man turned slightly, Rolan glimpsed two fresh streaks of blood running from his nostrils.

Almost as if someone with quick reflexes had jammed the heel of their hand against his nose in a defensive move, bloodying their palm in the process.

“I see,” Rolan whispered, partly to himself. “Any chance you instigated this whole thing?”

“He deserved it,” Ember whispered back with vehemence. “He called you a—”

Their eyes met for a second, and just as Rolan’s heart began to pound at how close her face was, she glanced away.

“Let’s just say he had Aradin’s vocabulary,” Ember finished.

So she had bloodied a man’s nose to defend his honor? He should find it absurd, but at this moment, all Rolan could think was how pretty Ember looked with her jaw set in righteous indignation like that.

“I’m flattered,” Rolan told her, only half-joking. He glanced back through the crack in the door, partly to distract himself from her again.

The two thugs had quickly given up any pretense of stealth in favor of searching the premises. Their unguarded footsteps were enough to track them, and after a short verbal exchange those heavy treads spread out to explore the floor below—far from Rolan and Ember’s hiding place.

“What if they steal something?” Ember whispered suddenly.

Of all Rolan’s concerns right now, that was by far the least pressing. “The stuff they’re looking for is all down in the vault. But I’d love to see them try, this place has enough defensive enchantments to flatten a troll, some my own magic. They’ll get knocked out if they so much as crack open a book. Though I doubt they can read,” Rolan added.

That made Ember laugh, a breathy and quiet sound—Rolan felt it against his cheek and hoped she wouldn’t notice the way he swallowed hard at the sensation.

With the two intruders blundering about so loudly, it suddenly seemed like an unnecessary risk to keep the door cracked open to watch them. In one move Rolan reached around Ember’s arm for the doorknob, pulled it shut, and muttered a quick incantation. The lock glowed blue-white with a series of clicks, now magically secured from the inside.

It was a slight change, but it somehow made the cramped space feel far more intimate. The light streaming under the door was just enough for him to make out Ember’s face a mere foot from his own.

Shelves packed with broken baubles of unidentified usefulness lined the walls around them, muffling the sound in the small space, everything but their breathing. Ember was close enough that Rolan felt her every exhale tickle his cheek.

“Now I guess we wait,” she said.

Rolan nodded, then remembered she might not be able to see. “I suppose. Hopefully those idiots lose interest fast.”

“What about Cal and Lia?”

“They’re both at Alfira’s,” Rolan answered. Worry ran through him for a moment, but they wouldn’t be back for at least an hour. By any luck Aradin’s old crew would be long gone by then. Good gods, please. Rolan didn’t think he’d survive an hour in a confined space with Ember’s body brushing up against him without doing something immensely embarrassing.

There was another muffled pause as they both shifted on their feet. One of Ember’s bells gave a tiny jingle.

“So…what’s new with you?” Ember’s quiet voice shook with mirth. This whole situation was apparently all good fun for her.

Rolan found himself enjoying it for his own reasons, but not any he remotely wanted to admit. The slashing neckline in Ember’s shirt offered a very generous view of her chest from this angle, and it took most of his concentration not to stare. He shifted again in an effort to put more space between them—with little success.

“Nothing but the usual,” he told her, grasping at the distraction. “Organizing Lorroakan’s hoard of magical artifacts, putting the library in proper order. Preparing the Tower’s defenses for the army marching down on the city any day now.”

“Sounds stressful.” Ember frowned at him a bit. “Don’t you take any time for yourself? Have a little fun?”

“When exactly would I have a chance to do that,” Rolan laughed mirthlessly.

And that was precisely the problem, wasn’t it?

As though Rolan’s subconscious hadn’t taken over after enough inaction on his part. As though exactly four nights ago he hadn’t experienced a dream shockingly similar to their current scenario, one where dream-Ember had instead dropped to her knees with lovely lips parted to take him.

As though Rolan hadn’t jolted awake at midnight, sweaty and tangled in his bedsheets, hard cock in his own grip—

That alarming line of thought was interrupted when one of Aradin’s men called to the other. This time, the voice came from just a few meters outside the door.

Both of them froze at the sound. Rolan’s mind was actually distracted by the threat of a confrontation, though only for a moment.

Whether from nerves or something else, Ember’s frame shifted in closer against his. He thought he could almost feel the heavy beat of her heart through the muffled and dim space.

The motion notched their bodies together in a new way. With his next smallest of movements, Rolan felt one of her thighs nudging in between his legs.

No—no no no, not now—

Yet blood was already rushing south of his waist in a primal reaction to the contact. Rolan clamped down with all his mental training, willing his body not to do anything so humiliating while she was trapped up against him like this with potential danger just outside. He conjured up thoughts of death, and pain, and anything that might distract his touch-starved body from the destination it was already barrelling towards headlong. His tail tip flicked eagerly behind him, and he coiled it around his calf to hide his tell.

But she was so firm and warm against his groin, and despite his best efforts, Rolan felt himself stiffening against her under his robes.

Ember’s eyebrows rose silently. Rolan felt the hottest blush blooming all over his face in response.

“Ignore that,” Rolan whispered curtly. Looking at any part of her only made his face burn even more, but it was hard to find anywhere else to look in their close quarters.

Ember bit and released her lower lip. “That’s going to be hard,” she whispered back.

Her choice of words made him wish the floorboards would open up and swallow him. Gods, this was humiliating.

“Do you always get this excited from the thrill of danger?” Ember continued in a teasing whisper.

“Now’s not the time,” Rolan hissed at her, trying to ignore the way she had angled herself slightly against his side.

“Or maybe it’s the close quarters—”

“Hush—” Rolan was genuinely trying to listen, unsure whether the intruder had moved away or was close enough to hear their whispered exchange. He was in no state to concentrate on spellcasting at the moment.

As he strained his ears, one of his arms nervously bumped against Ember and actually grazed the soft curve of her breast. Her breath hitched against his ear.

Fucking hells. Rolan thought every bit of him could melt on the spot—all but the length between his legs, which was now hard as a rock against the side of Ember’s hip. Rolan tried to shrink back further against the shelving behind him, but there was nowhere left to go.

Ember certainly made no move to give him space. “Didn’t know you had it in you,” she whispered coyly. “Honestly, I’m flattered.”

“This isn’t because—” Of you, Rolan wanted to tell her. But that seemed rather insulting, not to mention a bald-faced lie. He let out a shaky breath. “I’ve…not had much time to myself lately, that’s all.”

“Oh,” she replied. Rolan could practically feel Ember’s eyes on the side of his face. “Oh.”

A pause followed in which Rolan stared up at the dark closet ceiling and wished to disappear. Outside, there was a more distant crash and a yelp—one of the idiots triggering an arcane trap, no doubt. He felt a twinge of satisfaction. They were the whole reason he was stuck in this predicament.

“How long has it been?”

Rolan glanced down at Ember, whose face was tilted toward him sincerely.

“A few weeks,” he mumbled, then looked away again. “Almost four.”

“Damn,” Ember whispered.

“Yes,” Rolan said stiffly, continuing to avoid her gaze as prickling heat climbed up his neck. “So if we could just—wait here quietly.”

Ember let out a low, thoughtful hum. Something about the sound made Rolan’s palms sweat where they hung at his sides.

“How quiet can you be?” She asked him.

It took Rolan several moments to catch her meaning. He blinked at her in shock, certain she must be trying to tease him again. “What do you—”

“Because we’re alone right now,” she interrupted. She spread her palms to each side, as far as the cramped walls allowed. “And you've got nowhere else to be at the moment, right?”

She was so close Rolan’s eyes had to flick back and forth between hers. “That’s insane,” Rolan said hoarsely.

“Is it?” Ember sounded quite serious, though she kept her tone to a whisper. “Listen, Rolan, you’re not subtle. I’ve noticed, everyone who cares about you has. You’ve been impatient, and snippy, and Lia said you keep forgetting projects in the middle to start new ones.”

“When did you talk to—”

She didn’t slow for his question, and Rolan felt her hand actually curl up over his shoulder. His skin glowed with heat under her touch.

“For your own sanity, you need to get off,” Ember finished.

“I’m not going to—while you’re standing right here,” Rolan choked out. His mouth refused to repeat the phrase.

Ember was so close that he actually saw the color travel up her cheeks. “Rolan, seriously…you’ve been staring down my shirt every ten seconds. And you’re practically impaling me with that thing in your pants.”

All Rolan could do was squeeze his eyes shut with a small groan of humiliation. “I’m sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry,” she told him, and with his eyes closed, he heard a new note in her voice. “I’m telling you I can help.”

As she spoke, a soft hand closed across Rolan’s mouth.

His eyes flew open in shock to find hers. Ember’s luminous blue-gold gaze looked at him from under her lashes, sending a wave of heat rippling and licking across the skin under his robes.

With heart pounding in his chest, Rolan connected the dots. She could help. She could keep him quiet.

As his breath panted faster under her hand, Ember tilted her body slightly against his. Before he could think, she moved her free arm as if to reach between his legs.

Rolan shook his head frantically. If she touched him there, this would all be over. Not to mention…some small part of his mind admitted…he wanted to feel Ember’s hands there for the first time under different circumstances. Some night when he could take his time with her on even footing.

She had withdrawn her hand immediately at his indication, resting it gently around on his back instead. It was almost a sweet gesture—until she used the leverage of her pressed palm to roll her hips very slightly over his trapped thigh.

The small motion slid his hardness against her side through layers of clothing, and the simple friction made him throb. Rolan moaned at the back of his throat and felt the vibration stopped up by her hand. His tail had uncurled from his leg to shudder and flick in excitement again, nearly knocking something glass off the shelf behind him. Desperate to keep quiet, Rolan wound his tail up Ember’s leg with the tip brushing against her thigh.

She bit one side of her lip in response. At that sight, had her fingers not been clasped firmly over his mouth, Rolan would have closed the distance to kiss her.

While he panted and wished, Ember’s hand trailed down the back of his robes with no particular goal in mind. But when her fingers met with bare skin at the base of his tail, Rolan jerked involuntarily as a strangled groan rose from his chest.

The fingers of her other hand clenched tighter over his mouth. Ember stared at him, eyes wide with surprise and something like delight.

The last working bit of Rolan’s brain recalled her upbringing among non-Tieflings. Was it possible—could she not realize what a very sensitive area that was?

She appeared to be getting the picture either way. Without moving her hand from his lips, she curled four fingers ever so lightly to cup around the base of his tail.

“Wait,” Rolan managed to gasp out against Ember’s hand, and she slid it down to his chin. His length throbbed painfully against his trousers, pressing obscenely into her thigh, yet she made no move to adjust positions.

But Ember did hesitate as she watched him. “Does that hurt?”

“No, hells—” Rolan shook his head in a daze. “Far…far from it.”

Ember looked over his face with almost curiosity, and then her lovely fingers squeezed slightly around him.

“Wait!” Rolan repeated, and his tone shot up to a quiet whine. He was past trying to control his reactions, trembling and heated with weeks of pent-up desperation, but it felt vital to salvage what shreds of his dignity remained before she tipped him over the edge. And she had him very, very close.

“This isn't how I wanted—with you—but it’s been a gods damned month between everything, and Cal and Lia—and I’m master of the Tower now, and there’s the Absolute—”

Whether or not Rolan’s whispered and disjointed rambling made any sense, Ember had the grace to watch him from under her lashes until he sputtered out. In the next moment, she uttered the sultriest thing he’d ever heard.

“Honestly, Rolan, I just want to watch you come all over your robes.”

With that, her grip tugged firmly at the spot where his tail met his ass.

If not for her other hand clamping over his mouth again in the same motion, Rolan would have let out the most humiliating whimper of pure relief. Instead the noise was a muffled strangle of sound as his body gave her exactly what she wanted.

With a full-body shudder, Rolan twitched and spilled inside his trousers. His fingers clutched and dug at Ember’s hips with a mind of their own, pulling her forward shamelessly, allowing him to finally grind against her thigh in earnest as he came.

The wave of long-awaited release shot all the way up his spine with an intensity that made his knees buckle. Ember pressed his hips back against the shelves with her own just enough to catch him, sending the precarious tinkle of metal and glass around the small space—but her hand pumped a few more times over his tail to tease every last wave of pleasure from between his legs.

Rolan’s limbs trembled and shook from the force of the most satisfying climax he’d had in years. As white stars behind his eyelids popped and cleared, hot, sticky spend pooled in the fabric between his legs…then rapidly turned cold and mortifying. All Rolan could do was hang his head over Ember’s shoulder and pant against her hand.

At this moment, he’d give half his tower to know a good Banishment hex.

But if Ember was put off by his loss of control, she certainly didn't show it. Instead she let out a sound like a satisfied purr; she finally released his twitching, oversensitive tail to wrap both arms around his neck.

Rolan felt drunk in his afterglow, too spent to do anything but loop his arms around Ember’s waist and bury his flushed face into her shoulder. He realized through the haze that he'd heard the portal activate a while ago, though it hadn't registered then. They'd been alone in the tower for some time.

“Feel better?” Ember asked, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

It was difficult to answer. On the one hand, he could sob from the relief. On the other, Rolan had just done the most unimpressive thing against the leg of the very woman he wanted to impress most.

But Ember hadn't pushed him away in disgust. She was even closer than before, the length of her body pressed up comfortably against his as she hugged him. If not for the cold wet stain soaking from his clothes into hers, the position would be quite nice.

Rolan cast a simple spell as his energy returned, and the fabric between them was instantly warm and dry again.

“I've felt worse,” Rolan admitted as he reluctantly drew her away. Ember had begun to feel a little too nice pressed up against him; he wasn't taking any chances on a repeat.

“Good.” Ember looked down to brush herself off a little, and Rolan wondered whether he was imagining the darker color in her cheeks.

Without another word, Ember wheeled to open the door and accidentally thumped up against the unyielding wood. “Ouch—”

“Sorry,” Rolan said hastily, releasing the arcane lock with another quick spell and a flash of light. The door swung open.

They both stumbled slightly on the way out, blinded by the daylight streaming through the highly arched windows after so long in a dark enclosed space.

Ember walked ahead first with a hand shielding her eyes. “Well, looks all right out here…they didn’t try to trash the place, at least.”

Rolan glanced at her to respond, then stopped short.

He gaped open-mouthed at the back of her. From between the seams of her costume, Ember’s tail looped up in a perky and exaggerated S-curve. The sight was utterly adorable and incredibly tantalizing all at once. It also offered a very nice view of the curves of her hips, and Rolan could only blink and swallow hard as his mind whirred through several possibilities to land on the obvious one.

Had she enjoyed that?

Apparently unaware that her tail was curling and swaying at him in a come-hither motion, Ember turned back to him with a bright, unsuspecting smile. Rolan rushed to compose his face.

“You should come to my show this week,” she told him. “It’ll be fun. Bring Cal and Lia, relax a little. You’ve gotten all pent up in here,” Ember added, waving an arm around the cavernous tower.

He would say she had no idea, but in fact, Ember now knew intimately well.

Thanks to the electrifying realization that she had some feelings of her own about the matter, Rolan was able to manage a shaky laugh.

“I might just chance it.”

#nsft #spicy #rolan x tav #rolan x oc #tav: ember #oc: ember #fuck me tails #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan #catsharky #thank you for letting me take Ember and Rolan out to play!#underdark-dreams #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction

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usedtobecooler · 1 year

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the sex is good | fboy!eddie munson x fem!reader

Pairing | Eddie Munson x chubby/plus size Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, praise kink, slight degradation, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, alcohol use, drug use, minor fatphobia. fboy!eddie and his shithead friends.

Word Count | 3.7k (sorry)

A/N | fboy!eddie haunts my dreams, this ones for you @newlips

He’s been watching you slinking around Rick’s house all night, hips swaying and ass jiggling with every step — and he wants you. So fucking bad his cock is throbbing already, just thinking about getting you on your knees for him. He’s never seen you around, and you’re like nothing he’s seen before.

You’re overdressed for such a small party, sure. A midnight green satin dress cinching your waist in, tits spilling out the low neck, thick thighs rubbing together as you sway on your feet. Your hair fans over your shoulders, cascades down your back in effortless curls. You’re giggling, laughing at something your leggy blonde friend has said, nude glossy lips smacking together.

“Dude, you could do so much better,” The voice is off to the side of him, he doesn’t even care who it is that’s talking because they’re lying, tonight he wants you and in his eyes you’re the best thing there, “Carol is literally right there, Eddie. Have you seen her ass in those jeans?”

“If you think she looks so good, why don’t you go fuck her?” Eddie snarks, not once taking his eyes off of you. He doesn’t mean that, and his friend knows it too — he may not want Carol tonight, but she was his, too. Anybody lay hands on her and they’d know about it.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as Harrington makes an appearance from behind the doorway, two red solo cups in hand as he flashes a glint of pearly white teeth at you and your friend, offering the cups out. Eddie watches as you flush red at the attention, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, thanking Steve when he hands over the alcohol.

He doesn’t like it. The way Harrington’s clearly flirting with you, bumping his shoulder into yours as you laugh together like he just said the funniest shit ever. He shouldn’t have been shocked, Steve was always competition for him.

“Fuck it,” Eddie mutters to himself, finally having enough of the exchange going on right in front of his eyes, clambering off of the couch and slapping his friends knee in the process, “If it’s that easy for Harrington to charm the pants off of her, this should be a walk in the fucking park.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Eddie. She’ll be happy to have the attention,” One of his goons pipes up from the other side, resulting in a less than subtle middle finger raised in his direction.

Eddie didn’t discriminate when it came to women — he loved them all. Chubby or thin, tall or short, big tits or little tits, he didn’t care. If you were hot, you were hot.

And you absolutely were, just what he needed on this particular night. And he loved the thrill of chasing new tail, which was adding to his overall attraction to you.

It’s almost like God is on his side, when Steve leans down to peck you on the cheek lightly before bidding you and your friend goodbye. Eddie hides the clench of his jaw, knowing that regardless of how Steve touched or kissed you, he was gone now and out of the picture for the foreseeable. Leaving you wide open for him to pounce in and make his move.

“Oh for God sake,” Your friend rolls her eyes, utter disgust in her voice, folding her arms over her chest when he arrives at your side, “Hey, Eddie. This is —”

“The hottest babe in this place,” Eddie cuts her off, winking at you. He looks at you unabashedly, drinking you in with heavy eyes full of clear lust. You fluster under his gaze — he’s very intimidating. He’s clearly very sure of himself.

You blush, flipping your hair over your shoulder and fanning your face with your perfectly manicured nails. You were even better up close, plump lips in a constant pout, eyes sultry behind the dark makeup. The satin of your dress hugged to the curve of your belly cutely, cinching in your waist enough to have your plump frame shaped slightly more hourglass than usual.

Your friend blinks at you slowly, eyeing you both before making her decision, “I’m gonna go find Rick, see you bozos later.”

“I thought she’d never leave,” Eddie’s voice has a mocking, sarcastic tone behind it as he speaks. He takes her place, standing in front of you, only closer, enough so that his whisky laced breath fans your face — he pouts, “I don’t think your friend likes me very much.”

“She did warn me that you might be here,” You laugh, taking a sip of your drink, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste the tequila leaves behind on your tongue, “I was told before I came here to watch out for you, I’ve heard you’re bad news around these parts.”

“Aw sweetheart, m’not bad news. I just like to fuck and it kinda gets me in trouble,” He says it like it’s just that easy and it shocks you, how open and bold he is.

You school your face, “Ah, so that’s what you’ve slid over here for? In hopes of getting in my panties? And here I was, thinking you wanted to make friends.”

“Was it not obvious?” Eddie replies smoothly, slowly backing you up until you’re flush against the wall with nowhere to go — he towers over you, a hand coming out so he can brace himself against the drywall.

You glance to the side, taking in the sight of his thick fingers clad in harsh rings quickly before allowing your eyes to settle heavily on his own for the first time, properly taking in his appearance.

He’s hot, but you’re aware he already knows that himself. Looks like he stepped out of an ‘80s rock mag with the shaggy haircut, a scruffy beard, tattoos lacing his neck in harsh splatters of black and grey. He has a lip ring, tugs on it between his teeth — it makes your cunt flutter, and you have to clench your thighs together to relieve the throb of your clit, suddenly all too aware of your own arousal.

“I mean, I’m flattered really,” You smile sweetly and put on your best doe eyes, not letting on for even a second that you’re interested, “I was kinda hoping Steve would come back, though. He’s real cute, and I’ve heard he’s got a big dick. I wanna see what the fuss is about.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at you, a flash of annoyance swiping his features, “Harrington has all the equipment and doesn’t know what to do with it, sweetheart. You’re not missing out on much.”

Lies. Lies. Lies. But he can’t have you slithering from his grasp, not now that he’s actually had to put some fucking effort in when there are at least ten other chicks in this house who would fuck him without a second thought.

“Aw, I’m disappointed,” You pout, jutting out your glossed bottom lip, pretending like you even believed a word of what he just said, “Take me somewhere and show me a good time then, Munson. I’m bored of this back and forth.”

His hands are everywhere on you the second he kicks the door shut with his boot, crowding up into your body and gripping at your waist, fingertips squeezing the doughy flesh, “Let me show you how I fuck, babe. Swear you’ll never so much as think about any other cock again.”

You’re hazy from the alcohol, trying to keep your face neutral, but clearly even you aren’t immune to Eddie’s charm. Not now that his big palms are engulfing you and making you feel tiny, his lips almost brushing your own as he invades your space. A small whimper escapes your lips before you can even stop it.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Eddie grins, backing you up against the bed until the backs of your knees are knocking the edge. His left hand slides along the soft satin of your dress, gliding down your back and pulling the material up along with his wandering fingers. Leaving your ass bare for grabbing — which he does, taking a large handful of your supple fat and squeezing tightly, pulling you flush to him.

“Is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You joke, though your voice quivers from the nerves, a gasp leaving you when you feel the hard outline of his cock pressing into your lower belly.

Eddie rolls his eyes, slapping his hand down on your ass and earning a quiet moan from you, the same hand coming back to soothe the stinging skin just as quickly, “That smart mouth needs shutting up before it gets you in trouble, sweetheart.”

You pull a face and oh, he doesn’t like that. Something darkens behind Eddie’s eyes as he pushes you back onto the mattress, knocking the breath out of your lungs and startling you slightly.

His wandering hands roughen slightly as he rucks up the material of your dress up the pudge of your belly, dropping to his knees on the hardwood floor, spreading your thighs and pulling your panties to the side.

Eddie buries his face into your pussy, the burn of his harsh stubble on your sensitive folds a surprisingly pleasurable feeling. You’re shocked — never in your life had a man like Eddie ever been known for eating pussy, yet here he was, tongue slithering out and lapping at your wet hole.

“Oh fuck, Eddie,” You whimper, fingers winding tightly in the sheets as he licks at your slit with the flat of his tongue, pointing it when he reaches your clit, flicking the sensitive nub hard.

One of his hands grips at the meat of your thigh to keep your legs spread, the other lays flat over the bump of your tummy to hold you down, stop you from bucking up off of the mattress and away from the pleasure of his tongue.

You can’t hold back your moans as he goes down on you with ridiculous enthusiasm, finding a perfect rhythm almost immediately — like he knows your body and knows what you want without even having to try. He maps you out quickly, figures you like your clit being sucked, his tongue sliding into the tight heat of your cunt.

“Shit, shit,” You tremble, eyes watering as your hips twitch up into Eddie’s mouth, unable to help it. He doesn’t stop you either, buries his face in even deeper and suckles at your clit harder. You slide a hand into his hair tentatively and he keens into it, lets you drag your fingers through his tresses and tug lightly.

He moans into the heat of your cunt, the vibrations catching you off guard and dragging you towards the edge ridiculously quickly. “Eddie, m’gonna cum,” You warn, tugging his hair harder as the winding in your tummy builds.

Your orgasm crescendos, deafening in your ears as your tummy coils and unravels just as quickly, a gush of slick spilling from your fluttering hole and making a mess of Eddie’s mouth and chin. He laps it up like a man starved, pushing his face even tighter into your pussy to get every last bit.

You can barely comprehend what’s happening as you shiver through it, body going limp and floppy as Eddie sucks your clit as a final act, before leaning back on his haunches and slapping your inner thigh.

“Up on the bed and on all fours, now,” Eddie commands, and you do as you’re told, flipping onto all fours and arching your back for him. Your tits spill out of your dress at this angle, tight nipples sliding teasingly against the material of the comforter beneath you.

You hear him unbuckling his belt, and you can’t help the way the nerves wrack through your body in anticipation. You can’t see anything from this angle, can only hear as his clothes hit the floor and feel as the bed dips under the weight of him pushing between your legs. He pulls your panties even further to the side, completely soaked in your cum, snagging the head of his cock along your cunt, getting himself wet with your slick.

He slides into the tight heat of your pussy with minimal resistance, bottoming out with a grunt. You wiggle your hips, a shaky breath escaping your lips as you try to adjust to the size of his cock — he’s really big, bigger than you anticipated, fitting snug in your walls. Your cunt flutters and he hisses, gripping onto your hip tight;

“Don’t do that shit,” Eddie scolds, punching his hips forward and knocking the breath out of you. His ego won’t let him admit that the tightness of your pussy is getting the better of him, and has him close to his release embarrassingly fast.

“Y’can move,” You whine, desperate to feel him split you apart from the inside. He doesn’t hesitate for even a second, sliding out of you almost fully and immediately sliding back in, ripping an erratic moan from your open mouth. You grasp at the sheets tightly, arching your back for him, “Fuck, you’re so big.”

“You’re tight,” Eddie comments, voice barely wavering as he builds a brutal pace, rolling his hips into the flesh of your ass. Your needy cunt sucks him in with every harsh slap of his hips, and you squirm under the grip, cheeks flushing with every slick noise your pussy makes, “Fuckin’ takin’ it like a good girl.”

You cry out, the praise unexpected. For once, you’re at a loss for words, unable to comprehend anything or feel anything other than Eddie’s bruising grip on your hips and his cock splitting you open. You push back into his next thrust, losing yourself in the feeling.

“Oh shit, just like that,” Eddie grunts, choking on his own tongue as you throw your ass back on him, the slap of skin on skin suddenly deafening in your ears. He grabs a handful of your left cheek, squeezing before he’s slapping his hand down on the rippling flesh, eliciting a whimper from you, “You like that, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” You cry — you can feel your velvet walls hugging the sheer girth of him so well that every pulse of his cock is easily made out. You’re being stretched so far, yet the initial burn turned pleasurable at an alarming rate, his blunt head gliding along the soft bump of your frontal wall making you dizzy, a deep heat blooming in your belly.

“Can feel you squeezing my cock, baby,” You can hear the grin in his voice, and you can’t even find it in your to be annoyed as you hurtle towards your release fast, “Y’gonna soak me in your cum?”

That’s what does it for you — your entire body dissolving into pleasure as your climax wracks through you, a high-pitched cry spilling from your lips. Your hips stutter as your walls flutter uncontrollably, Eddie’s cock fucking you through it. You feel your cum drool from you, slicking down your mound and making everything impossibly wetter.

“There she is, fuckin’ soaking for me,” Eddie guffaws, cock slipping out momentarily from the sheer slick of your pussy. He grabs hold of himself by the base once more, pushing back into your spasming walls and punching a moan from you.

You go limp after that, pushing your face into the pillow and letting Eddie use you, his grunts filling the air. You need to get up before he gets bored, the little voice in the back of your head niggles at you to do it.

“Pull out, need to taste your cock,” You mumble, drunk and fucked out on the sheer girth of Eddie’s cock fucking you. You’re sensitive, legs quivering and trying to close on their own, and you know you can’t handle much more.

Eddie doesn’t argue, thrusting into the tight heat of your cunt once more before he’s sliding out with a slight hiss — he could never say no to a girl willingly wanting to blow him.

It also meant there was absolutely zero chance of a pregnancy scare. It was a win-win in his book.

You maneuver yourselves until he’s sitting back against the pillows, you perched prettily on your knees between his spread legs. He’s littered in tattoos, covering most of his body, and it makes the pretty pink of his cock stand out even more when it’s flush against the porcelain and black.

You grasp a hold of the thick base in your hand, working your hand up and down slowly, using your own cum as lube. The extra glide from his foreskin helps too, and you suddenly can’t help but wish every man you’d ever been with was uncut — it was just so pretty.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Eddie asks, looking barely bothered by your hands on him as he produces a tin from the bedside drawer, a pre-rolled joint and a lighter inside. You shrug, too busy working up his cock to care about it.

You feel dumb — he’s left you in an absolute mess.

Vaguely aware of a lighter clicking in the background, you lean down and engulf the head of Eddie’s cock in the tight wetness of your mouth, tongue slithering over the slit, cheeks hollowing as you slide down further.

“That’s it sweetheart, you’re fucking filthy,” Eddie almost sounds impressed, watching behind hazy eyes as he takes a drag of his joint, fingers running through your hair and massaging your scalp, gently guiding you down, “You can take more, right?”

You take that as a challenge, relaxing so you can sink down lower, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth, sputtering on your mouthful when the head finally hits the back of your throat.

“Look at me,” Eddie commands, grunting and tugging your tresses between his fingers until your watery eyes are sparkling open. His own orbs are almost black as he watches you with pure lust — his stomach jolts as your glossy lips leave behind pink rings on his cock, “You’re such a pretty mess for me, sweetheart.”

You keen into the praise, sinking down the last of the way until your lips hit your fist. You alternate between sucking and bobbing your head with Eddie’s guidance, relishing in every little moan and whimper you’re punching out of him. He doesn’t give much away, but you can feel his hips growing restless, kicking up slightly.

He smokes away languidly as you absolutely fucking devour his cock — and then something unexpected happens. Eddie hits your gag reflex and your throat closes around your mouthful, squeezing his cock so tight that he’s choking out a deep growl, hips fucking up into your mouth harshly.

“That’s it, baby, taking me like a fuckin’ champ,” Eddie’s voice drips in arousal, and almost a hint of pride there too — no girl had ever been able to take so much of him at once without zero issue, and it was sending him hurtling towards the edge faster than he’d like to admit.

Your nails dig into the meat of his thigh, trying to ground yourself as he completely loses it and uses your mouth. You keep your eyes on him fully, crying around his girth and moaning, hand jerking what little of him is left — you can feel his salty release sliding down your throat and you know he’s close now.

He watches you with hazy eyes, hand fisted tightly in your hair and keeping you pushed down until you’re spluttering so much your throat is spasming around him, “Fuck, babe. M’gonna cum, you gonna let me blow my load in your pretty little mouth?”

You whine around your mouthful, feeling your spit spill from the edges of your stretched lips uncontrollably as he uses you, hips jerking into your mouth, speeding up as he reaches the edge. You nod, swallowing around his cock until he’s grunting.

“Yeah?” Eddie’s grinning, brings the joint to his lips to take another hit — and then you do something completely out of left field, ghosting your fingertips over the taut skin of his balls. He pushes you down onto his cock with a harsh hand, “You’re making me — oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck.”

The thick ropes of his cum fill your mouth at an alarming rate, gagging you in the process as you’re kept in place with a harsh hand and spasming hips. You watch behind tear clouded eyes, a deep heat in your belly as you watch Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tummy clenching as he just keeps cumming.

Eddie eventually lets you come up for air when you start to slap at his leg, desperately sucking in a breath through your nose. He actually almost looks apologetic when you finally slide off of his flaccid length, swiping at your soaked chin. You know your makeup is ruined now, there’s no way you can return to the party.

“Get yourself cleaned up, sweetheart. I’ll take you back to your little friend and she can take you home, yeah?” He speaks nonchalantly, stubbing out the end of the joint on the corner of the bedside table and leaving the butt behind.

You scoff, rolling your eyes — not even so much as a ‘thanks, bud’, in return for what clearly was the best blowjob of his fucking life, given the state of his reaction to it, “I can make my own way back downstairs, don’t need you to chaperone me, Eddie.”

Eddie chuckles darkly, bending over the side of the bed to retrieve his strewn clothes, “Oh baby, I know. But if I take you then I know you’re not gonna end up with Harrington — you know you can’t fuck him now, right?”

prick #1: ur girl from ricks is fuckin harrington bro

prick #1: he just came in here sayin shes got REAL good pussy

prick #1: does he kno u fucked???

Eddie seethes as he reads the texts, slamming a hand down on his steering wheel in anger, nostrils flaring.

He thought his words made it pretty crystal fucking clear — you were his girl now, didn’t you know that?!

His fingers fly across the screen as he types furiously. You didn’t give him your number, but your friend was happy enough to hand it over not even a day after the party. She was stupid for that, really.

get dressed and be ready in ten. don’t even try to play dumb you know who this is.

You needed to be reminded who you belonged to.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #newlipsmilestoneoflove #x reader #my fanfic #my work #mine

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megistusdiary · 2 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/megistusdiary/747247765493563392/omg-new-pfp-era?source=share

Um. Yes please??? 🗣️🗣️🗣️

okay so consider kitty!arlecchino with lynette. and she's trying to teach lynette how to stalk and capture prey.

obviously, we're talking targets, not really mice and rabbits, but it's easier to capture a cat's attention that way. so, arlecchino dolls you up in cute little mouse ears and a pretty little dress.

she has you run around in the forest, leaving little trails as she teaches lynette how to follow scents and look for signs of your target. unbeknownst to you, arlecchino had other plans from the start.

this demonstration practically ended the moment you all stepped foot in the woods. once you're out of sight, she's quickly sending lynette back to the house while she finishes her hunt with you.

and when she finds you leaning on a tree, panting and adjusting the cute little mouse ears, her eyes narrow, lips quirking up.

(nsfw utc)

she moves closer, silently before brushing her lips over your ear. "i caught you," she whispers, grabbing your shoulders just to feel you jump.

soon enough, she's pulled you up into her arms, your dress hiked up, panties pulled to the side as you clutch onto her tightly.

when you tell her you're afraid she'll drop you, she merely laughs, pointed teeth on display. her ears flick, tail waving and hitting your exposed thigh with its softness.

she promises she wouldn't drop a sweet little thing like you, no, she would savor every last drop.

and when she unbuttons her pants, revealing the strap she's been hiding, she delights in the way you squirm in her hold. her claws lightly poke your thighs, a reminder to behave if you don't want her to drop you!

soon enough, she's spearing you onto her strap, enjoying your little whimpers of discomfort from the stretch, clawing at her shoulders with your cute human nails.

she'll reprimand you while she fucks you, telling you how easy it was to find you. how she could smell your leaky cunt, hear your soft breathing, how you got tired of running too easily for her.

despite it all, she loves how pretty and pliant you are for her, a willing demonstration for her to use for her own needs. she's pleased with herself, having tricked you into believing you were helping teach her children, all to end up cumming on her cock :(

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #arlecchino smut #arlecchino x reader #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´

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dazednstoned · 9 months

Text

Modern Rdr2 hcs:

-Abigail dresses like it's the 2000s (I'm talking miniskirts, low rise jeans, heeled flip flops w the fucking sparkles). She will never change too.

-Charles and Arthur go on dates to those adoption events to pet all the dogs and cats

-the whole gang frequently gathers for family bbqs. Every time someone ends up getting punched, passing out, or storming off

-Abigail puts Jack on one of those backpack leashes for kids (John too if we're being honest)

-Tilly, Karen, and Marybeth do full goodwill, garage sale, and vintage market days. They do not mess around either

-the only thing hosea knows how to do on his phone is play chess

-Sean still can't read in modern time

-john plays guitar and writes really horrible love songs for Abigail

-Javier and john r for sure in a band together, they're pretty good when they sing the songs Javier wrote

-Lenny and Sean co-parent an extremely neglected widgetable

-Arthur listens to facebook reels on full volume in public w no shame. Isaac is mortified every time

-john has various tattoos, half of them are god awful. He definitely got Abigail's name or initials tattooed somewhere and she was livid

-Karen gives herself piercings with a really shitty piercing gun

-arthur and John work together in construction, an auto shop, or in the equestrian field.

-Dutch has a very rigid and lengthy skincare routine

-john uses 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner, but he says it's 3 in 1 bc it also counts as bodywash

-Tilly is the only one of her family to graduate college (Arthur dropped out of hs when Eliza got pregnant and john never went)

-Hosea is one of those old people you just see walking around the neighborhood at like 8am

-john and Arthur don't wear sunscreen or put on lotion. Abigail sometimes manages to force some sunscreen on John's face before he goes to work tho

-bill refuses to go to gay bars but uses Grindr

-Abigail cuts John and Jack's hair bc she refuses to pay for something she thinks she can do herself (she cannot do it herself)

-Kieran is a hair braiding god. I'm talking French braids, fish tails, you name it.

-john owns a really shitty pick up truck. Jack was either conceived or birthed in the backseat of it (maybe both)

-Sean falls for those free iPhone scams every time

-the only videogame charles plays is stardew valley. He thought it would be relaxing, it wasn't.

-Tilly and Mary Beth are in a book club together

-Abigail is the type of parent to not let her kid play w nerf guns or watch pg13 movies (John is the exact opposite)

-Sadie spends her weekends at rage rooms

-everyone's fridges are covered in drawings Jack made for them

-John, Javier, and Sean game together. Violence always ensues

-dutch does not tip waiters

-john tried to play catch w Jack once and ended up getting hit in the groin by a baseball. He didn't know 4 yr olds could throw that hard

-Abigail and Karen (& sometimes Charles) drink cheap wine together every Sunday and discuss the dumb things their boyfriends did that week

-Lenny and Hosea do the wordle everyday

-Jack is in little league soccer. John sits back drinking a beer as Abigail shouts at the referee

-Abigail got a tramp stamp of a little bow when she was 17 (she regrets it)

-Hosea exclusively sends emails

-Abigail hides John's weed socks bc she doesn't want Jack to see and "fall into a life of drugs" when he's older

-Arthur is a hiking dad through and through. While John is a sit on the couch drinking a beer w his kid in his lap kinda dad

-uncle is the old drunk that lived in the same trailer park as Abigail and John did when Jack was a baby. He kinda just stuck around after

-Miss Molly O'Shea would be a makeup god and u cannot convince me otherwise

I might do a pt 2 late in the future!

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l0uterstella · 1 month

Text

CHARACTER DESIGN NOTES FROM THE 4GAMER INTERVIEW

🍎 HALLRITT - "I told them that I absolutely wanted to include the ribbon in the upper right corner, no matter how cute it turned out to be. It also includes the image of Kitty's blue overalls on his suspenders. The yellow ribbon on his boots is an image of Kitty's twin, Mimmy."

🎼MEROLD - "He was drawn together with Blue Bouquet's Kurode. My Melody wears a hood, as she was originally designed as a "Little Red Riding Hood". The slit on the side was inspired by the design of the slit under My Melody's neck."

🍀PURUTH - "Since Pompompurin is a golden retriever, one of many dog designs, the belt-like thing coming out of his waist has the image of a leash. The shoes on the left and right sides are different, reflecting Purin's hobby of collecting and hiding one shoe on each side."

🌹 ROMARRICHE - "The silhouette of Marroncream's puff sleeves is expressed by wearing a cape. The floral pattern and polka dots are also inspired by her. We have not yet shown the back view, but there is also a lot of attention to detail hidden in the cape."

🐟 RIMICHA - "Kirimi-chan was the first runner-up in the "Eating Character General Election," so we gave him a distinctive mouth. Also, the asymmetry of his hair expresses their (Kirimichan) original silhouette, which is voluminous on the right side. The fishnet stockings are an image of a grill…!"

🌺 SANAH - "Usahana is a character who values the colorful colors she gets from the sky and flowers, so we took advantage of that. Also, around the year 2000, when Usahana debuted, sticker exchanges were popular, so we also incorporated that image into the design."

☁ CIELOMORT - "While also expressing Cielomort's royal and mysterious image, we incorporated motifs from Cinnamoroll, such as "clouds," "sky," and "white puppy". Cinnamoroll is also characterized by his swirling tail, so we made Cielomort's hair curly as well."

👿 KURODE - "As far as the spiritual nature is concerned, the theme of "becoming who you want to be" is the basis of Kuromi's work, and it makes use of the visual sense of "The World Kuromification Project". In contrast to the fluffy cuteness of Merold, I imagined a darker cuteness."

✉️ WILLMESH - "Wish Me Mell is a postman's helper, so he is given a mail bag and a brooch with a sealing wax motif. The polka dot pattern on Wish Me Mell's palm is reproduced with a polka dot bandage."

💫 KLARKSTELLA - "Kiki and Lala are "dreamy and cute" and "starry-eyed," so we developed them from there and based the costume on the image of pajamas. The twin-leaf-like hair on the top of her head is also inspired by Kiki and Lala. Another point is that they are tall."

🌟 LOUTERSTELLA - "His basic image is just the same as Klarkstella's, but we were careful to not simply make them different colors. They both have a dreamy atmosphere, but not too cute, and I think they have beautiful designs with a mythological mystery."

🌾 MYUNNA - "The design of the "spirit of flour" is based on the "fragile cuteness" of Cogimyun, who looks as if he might be blown away and turned into powder. Also, the back of his dress is a silhouette of Cogimyun's pet shrimp, and the decorations on his shoes are also based on her signature."

🐊 BADOBARM - "Bad Badztamaru's mischievous boyish atmosphere has been reproduced as a life-size male figure. Also, the "Xs and Os" shape, which is often used by Bad Badztmaru himself, is used in many of the costume decorations. By the way, Badztmaru's pet crocodile is called "Pochi," while the crocodile-shaped fairy with Badobarm is "Tama.""

🐶 CHACO - "We tried to express Pochacco's silhouette and his skateboarding element with the image of a very active child. We were particular about the balance of colors so that it would not be monotone, so we gave the hair color a unique look so that it would not be similar to other children."

🐣 ARUPEK - "From Ahiru No Pekkle's treasured bucket, we gave him a water pistol as an element for water. The large feet are also reproduced in his shoes. The hunting cap has a bird-like silhouette. The "1989" on the patch is Pekkle's debut year!"

🐧 TUXAM - "Tuxedo Sam is a gentlemanly penguin boy who has studied abroad in England, so we kept his noble image in mind. His hat is a combination of the sailor hat Sam wears and the hat of Sherlock Holmes... Who is famous in England. On the stick is an ice cream cone that Sam often spills."

🐙 HANGYON - "We designed the bewitching element based on Hangyodon, a half-fish man born in China. The round eyes are represented by sunglasses, and the pink color of Hangyodon's lips is incorporated into the lenses and makeup. The fairy on his shoulder, "Lily," was inspired by Sayuri, an octopus who is a good friend of Hangyodon."

🐸 PIKERO - "Since his lord's real name is "Keroppi Hasunoue (Keroppi above a lotus)", we added a black pattern to the umbrella to make it look like a lotus leaf. Also, it is hard to tell, but his eyes are pink, which represents the color of Keroppi's cheeks. His overall image is not Chinese, but Vietnamese."

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arachine · 1 year

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eye is twitching at size difference!neteyam whether it be w a human or na'vi. eye twitching n toes curling ESPECIALLY at nervous neteyam whose tail and ears are twitching bc his ass is hot and bothered n trying to hide it bc??????? example setter big responsible brother neteyam can NOT show anybody he's weak as hell when it comes to his (future?) mate. istg like let's just say the village is throwing a feast or whatever and the women are dancing w the men/their mates and he's just mesmerized by her n when she approaches him takes his hand and leads him to the dance BOY IS JUST WEAK IN THE KNEESSSSS ready to start whining n twirling his hair like i KNOW this would happen he told me himself

MMFFFFF!!!! oh my god. fuck you.

+ human! reader, suggestive

+ note :: me when i am physically INCAPABLE of elaborating on a thirst, so i turn it into a full fledged drabble LOL! also fuck that damn oxygen mask…it be fucking up the vibes so it doesn’t exist in this 😍

he’s like seated by the fire right. just sulking, brooding—you know, as per usual. the feast had commenced some time ago, and now the clan was scattered in clusters, just laughing, conversing, drinking (whatever the na’vi equivalent to earth alcohol was)—and then, you come in.

well, you don’t just come in—you’re dancing, and it’s not just you. there’s a line of na’vi women parading through the clearing, all dressed in fancy garments (suited for dancers), ululating and gyrating their hips. amongst these experienced women, you stick out like a sore thumb. not because you’re dancing particularly bad, but because the line depresses drastically in height when it gets to you. but it’s cute, he thinks. adorable, even.

usually, you’re a clumsy little thing, but right now you have this aura about you. it’s something fierce—and with every step, every twirl of your arms, and shake of your hips, he finds himself teetering closer and closer to the edge of his seat.

and your eyes? your eyes haven’t left his since you stepped foot into his peripheral vision. they’re darker in color compared to his, but the amber hue flames of the fire light them ablaze. calling him, luring him—like a siren, and he, an unfortunate sailor who’s fallen into his own trap.

when you round his section, you circle around him. once, twice, three times. his head is on a swivel, eyes never leaving yours as you make your way to the fire.

you’re only dancing. it’s not like he hasn’t seen this exact same dance hundreds of times, with these exact same garments, and these exact same women who prance around seductively teasing men—because he has. a many of times. but…this was different, intimate. in a way that he couldn’t quite explain.

and now you’re leaving your place around the fire and women, striding up to him all gracefully. he’s so entranced that he doesn’t process that you’ve grabbed his hands, nor does he process that he was now standing, and walking with you to the fire, and—

“wait, wait, what are you doi-“

but he’s already too far to turn back. he has to commit, especially since all eyes were now on you and him. this was calculated. an attack on his very name and the reputation that he’s so carefully crafted over these past few years.

see, the thing about neteyam is…he doesn’t dance. he never got the chance to just goof around growing up, not like lo’ak, especially not like lo’ak. no, he was too focused training, and sparring—being primed for war. when you grow up with responsibilities that only an eldest child can be burdened with, you don’t dance.

“i do not dance,” he tries to pull away, but to no avail. your grip on him is vice and your eyes are fierce, a silent assurance that you were not to be trifled with, at least not now, while there are stares. he surrenders his body to you, lets you pull him deeper into the abyss.

for a while, he stands there rather awkwardly, just shifting side to side as you walk circles around him. moving just enough to appease you, but not enough to look like he’s enjoying himself. you’re not the least bit impressed, though. you know he can do better. much better.

“stop being so rigid, move your body,” you poke his side, earning a playful hiss. “i want you to copy me, look, mimic my movements.” you back away slowly, swaying your arms side to side and whirling your fingers up to the sky before letting them drop in front of your face—palms facing outward, fingers spread.

when he repeats it, you press your palms together, peeking through your fingers. in this moment, there is nobody else. just you, him, and the fire. eyes staring back into eyes, two souls connecting. now that he’s so close, he can see just about every detail of your irises.

they’re not as dark as he’s always thought them to be, there’s a sparkle behind them. a light or fire that flickers brightly, and he can see himself, too. a mirage of himself burning in the fire. he doesn’t want to look away but then you’re backing away again, laughing and spinning wildly, and he tries to reach for you but you dodge his advances. catch me, you mouth. catch me.

faster than he can blink, you end up behind him. playfully, you pull his tail and when he spins to stop you from doing it again, you stumble backwards. before your body has the chance to hit the soil, he catches you. lean, strong arms taking you into his hold: one supporting your neck and the other on the small of your back. there it was. that clumsiness.

“dancers are supposed to move with grace,” he whispers teasingly, his face so close to yours you can feel the warmth of his breath, “that wasn’t graceful.” he wants you to take the bait. take the bait, take the bait, take the bai—

“oh, mr. ‘i don’t dance’ is critiquing me now?” you bite. it took a second for you to answer him, partly because you were trying to come up with something slick to respond with, but mostly because of the proximity. his eyes were pretty, too pretty for a smug little shit like him. “guess the student becomes the master.”

he laughs in the interstice of your neck, pulling you up slowly to your original vertical position. eventually, the music begins to come to a somber decrescendo, signifying the end of the song, and you two quickly remember the audience surrounding you.

“find me later,” you say into his ear. his tail shoots up from the insinuation. “i can teach you something else that isn’t dancing.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #atwow

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heartfullofleeches · 4 months

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*slowly opens your closet door and hands you the rest of the chips I was eating in there*

What if. Reader kissed King's scars or traced over them n asked if shed tell them how she got em? I think scars are neat and I dunno about you but personally I'd love to know how she got em. Hope your day is well!

Not a scratch on her.

You distinctly remember the claws of your attacker digging into the exposed meat of the knight's bicep her armor failed to shield yet here there is no mark to prove it. The two of you sat in King's dressing room following the incident, and all the time it took you begging to pull her off them. You thought you'd be fine on your own for a little while without her - clearly word hasn't gotten around the casino that you belong to her just yet. After she checked you over and made sure you weren't hurt it was only fair of you to do the same, but once you scrubbed all that blood off her there really wasn't much else for you to take care of.

"Hm......"

King lifts her head from the pile of pillows you both lay on, dismayed by absence of your hands on her. "Everything okay over there? Seems like you got something on your mind."

"Just thinking.... You've got so many scars, but that other demon didn't even put a scratch on you ... Kinda curious why.."

"Oh, that? That was nothing.-" King sits up, pounding a fist against her chest as she rises. "Takes a lot more than a coward like that to put a dent on this body. Hell, my skin's thicker than the steel I throw on. The stories behind every single one of 'em could the tale of centuries."

"Really?.... Then do you think you could tell me how you got your scars? I actually think they're pretty neat, but I didn't know the right time to ask you about them."

The mountain of pillows crumbles under the heavy swish of King's tail. "Yea....course... we'd be here all week if I told you how I got them all, but I can start off with some of my favorites for now."

King removes her chestplate - gesturing for you to climb in her lap as she regroups the pillows beneath her. She leans back down as she takes your smaller hands in hers, placing them on her abdomen. It was almost impossible to tell where her skin began and the old wounds ended. She guides your fingers to a crescent shaped hole just below her left pec - right over her ribs.

"Feel that? Got that one during the first tournament I feared I might lose. Underestimated the little bastard due to their size - barely came up to my knee in this form, the fucker. Unfortunately for them, they got a little too confident and all it took for me to wipe the floor with that small fry was catching them once.

"Amazing...." Your trace your fingers over the scar, dipping your head until in range to place a soft kiss on her hardened skin. King flinches - tail threatening to foundation of the pillows again as it shoots up with her.

"Wha- Huh?!- The fuck was that?"

"Sorry... Was that not okay? I guess I should've asked before I did that."

King's used to people asking about her scars. She may have been asked to be been kissed once or twice, but that was often by drunken fans - not the little treasure she picked out for herself. You are aware she could snap you in half at any second? You most definitely did, and that she'd never put you in serious danger. Still, you being so careless around a beast like her has got feeling a rush that's incomparable to the surge she feels in battle.

"Nah...." King shifts her tail benath her legs to hide the excitement it gave away. "A warning might've been nice - but your boldness makes it kinda hot. I knew I picked the perfect person to call mine.... Let's move on."

King nudges your fingers further north over her heart to anotger oddly shaped scar over her heart. With three points it almost look like a crudely embroidered crown. "This one. Welcoming gift from the boss themselves. Should'a known not to underestimate that other demon after dealing with them, but they're such an airhead it's easy to forget they can take care of themselves just fine."

Again - you kiss the blemish, the dragon's heart hammering loudly in her chest you can feel its rumble from your lips. There's other's she'd like to show you, but it you're so willing to kiss all her marks....

"Hey, got another one I think you might like."

King lifts her helmet over her jaw - shadows pealing away to unveil the wide, branching scar starting from her lower lip to benath her chin. She grins to show off the extent of the injury, the skin of her lips splitting to reveal more of her gums the further her smile creeps up the side of her face.

"This one? First and only time an angel tried to mess with our staff. Something about some demon winning the soul of someone they were watching over in a gang of cards. Made a huge fuss, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Scar I'm most proudest of."

You ghost your fingers along her jaw, smiling as she slides her large hand down your back. "Uh-huh.... Something tells me there's another reason you wanted to show me this one in particular..."

"Don't get too full of yourself... Heh, who am I kidding." Tossing her mask aside, King pulls you for a kiss - a loud, yet oddly polite banging on the door interrupting the happy moment.

"Ms.King? We are all very glad you have found someone you are willing to protect at any cause, but some guests have raised concerns about your displays of victory. Please stop stringing your prey up over the pool. This is the third time we've had to close it this month."

#King my oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere blurb #female yandere #yandere fluff

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honestlyboringperson · 4 months

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I Tried My Hand at Designing the Full Witches of the Main Cast of Magia Record.

CAMPANELLA (Yachiyo Nanami)

The ticket puncher witch. Her nature is admittance. From not only beneath her dress, but under her hat and as well as the multitude of eyes on her tail, black watery tears spill forth with such intensity that her entire barrier is flooded with her tears. She eternally waits for a train for her board on and be reunited with her friends, but she struggles to find the train station itself. Using her lantern, she will eternally wander her ever flooded barrier to find her way to the station. If one were to be harmed by the ticket puncher at the end of her scorpion like tail, great devastation and tragedy awaits them in the near future.

YU HONG (Tsuruno Yui)

The witch of ham. Her nature is harmonious. Both great fortune and great success are the ingredients used by this witch in her kitchen, but all that she ends up producing is dubious meals that may or may not cause harm to the human body. She detests any form of household tensions and if she senses even the slightest resentment of a family member, she will force her victim into eating a feast of her aforementioned dubious cooking. Only those who don’t hide themselves from family troubles or conflict can defeat her.

BEATRICE (Felicia Mitsuki)

The eyelid witch. Her nature is tumultuous. A witch who spends most, if not all her time completely asleep within her barrier, and will almost never actively hunt humans when awake. On the other hand, this witch for whatever reason harbours a complete and utter hatred for other witches and whenever she is awake, will mercilessly locate and smash other witches flat with her mallet like hands. If there is something positive that catches her attention however, she will fear that they will somehow leave her and attempt to bury them in her concrete like tears that she spews forth from her eyes.

THERESIA (Sana Futaba)

The inquisition chair witch. Her nature is transparency. Eternally sitting atop a chair with a mind of its own, this innocent witch lives in perpetual torment and agony. The chair itself is not a part of the witch, and carries out its duty to keep the witch chained to its spiked body and weaponize the truly staggering amount of torture devices it has at its disposal. The witch desires not to hurt anyone and is further tormented by the acts of intense violence that unfold before her. Due to being invisible, her sobs are the only clue where to strike if one wants to hunt this pitiful witch. When the witch dies, a single innocuous sound of a cat meowing will echo through the barrier.

ZOLA (Kaede Akino)

The witch of plot lands. Her nature is to be territorial. Within this witches’ head is planted the simple goal of expanding her territory. When she arrives to an urban area, she desires nothing but to return it to nature and covers it completely in rotten moss. She doesn’t tolerate any form of pest, as she sees them as encroaching on her property and will mercilessly destroy anything that steps into her barrier. Despite this outwardly aggressive behaviour, she is gentle towards the plant life in her barrier, which she grows herself. For some odd reason, these plants moan and can move on their own like zombies, so it’s best not to approach them at all.

CENDRILLION (Rena Minami)

The glass slipper witch. Her nature is transformative. This witch detests herself, and desires to change no matter what. When she senses someone in her barrier, she rush up to them and tear their face off. These faces are then turned into masks, and the witch can freely transform into them. However, she cannot imitate the soul of her victims and usually just ends up acting like a wild animal. If one were to gaze into the mirror on her arm like appendage for too long, she will steal their soul. When the witch dies, a single glass slipper will fall out of no where and shatter to pieces.

ELFRIEDE (Momoko Togame)

The witch of manicured nails. Her nature is self-discipline. This witch cares not where it’s power flies. It continually and proudly displays and decorates the fingers and nails that not only make up her body, but also fly around her as well. It takes great care of its shoddy manicures, but when someone insults it’s nails it becomes quite depressed and either attempts to pierce the victim with her razor sharp nails, or becomes paralyzed with insecurity. Only those who can get up again and again even after misfortune can successfully defeat this witch.

TOTENTANZ (Mitama Yakumo)

The witch of flower petals. Her nature is forewarning. This witch doesn’t forget that no matter what, death comes to all things. It resents its environment and desires nothing but it’s untimely destruction. It is strangely gentlemanly, and escorts those who enter her barrier with pure white gloves, but her terrifying power that is connected to the untimely end of all things often ends up decaying anything that her petals fall upon. Even if you manage to defeat this witch, the sheer amount of pent up curses will often end up taint a soul gem to its limit and will end with a new witch springing up in her place.

#madoka magica #magia record #pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica witch #pmmm witches #pmmm witch #magia record doppel #puella magi magia record #pmmm magia record #puella magia madoka magica #yachiyo nanami #tsuruno yui #rena minami #kaede akino #momoko togame #felicia mitsuki #sana futaba #mitama yakumo

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nobody-nexus · 5 months

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Ragapom HCs I Have

(WARNING: There's a LOT of headcanons)

-Transfem Lesbian Pomni (Is On The Spectrum)

-Cisgender Bisexual Ragatha (Has ADHD)

-Pomni has a cat tail (This is to give other hcs context)

-Pomni loves hearing Ragatha play the cello

-Ragatha will always ask if it's okay if she can touch Pomni or not, but if they're in immediate danger there's no time to ask (she will ask if Pomni's okay and apologize AFTER the danger has passed)

-Pomni learned how to sew just to help out Ragatha (She's not great at it, but it's better than nothing)

-They both learned each other's favorite smells and they've asked for candles of that scent just to sit in their rooms and take it in

-Pomni's not the BIGGEST fan of her body but Ragatha makes sure she feels valid (if you misgender her, you die. There's no getting pass it)

-Ragatha hides her love of horses because she's embarrassed by it, but Pomni actually really like animals

-Pomni makes various animal noises when expressing emotions, mainly cat or even dog like noises- and Ragatha's memorized all of them

-Blanket cuddles ALL THE TIME- even if Pomni's okay with touch. Ragatha being one giant comforter for Pomni always makes her SO HAPPY

-Pomni has bells on her tail, which although was Caine's idea, it DID make it easier for Ragatha to know if Pomni's sneaking away for a late-night snack or not

-Pomni has a BIG love for dresses. Ragatha once made a dress for Pomni, who wears it every time they go on a date

-Jax was the first to find out about them dating by barging into their room while they were making out. Caine was the last to find out, but still thinks they're "gal pals"

-Whenever Ragatha's having a bad day, Pomni just likes to talk. Since she's not always up for physical comfort, she knows her voice soothes Ragatha

-Pomni swears a lot whilst Ragatha hardly does so

-Ragatha makes Pomni flustered CONSTANTLY, and she never even means to

-Pomni's stamina is nonexistent while Ragatha can run for hours without realizing it

-Ragatha can pick up Pomni like she's nothing

-Pomni is awful at coming up with cute nicknames for Ragatha, but Ragatha has a bunch. Her favorite one is 'sweetheart' for Pomni

-If the jester's feeling very protective, she'll bite Ragatha to show bite marks, showing that no one touches Ragatha but her (And the doll's beyond embarrassed about it)

-Pomni's flirting sucks, but Ragatha's reaction is THE most 30s thing you could imagine. Hands on sides of face, shaking her head a little, "Oh Pomni, QUIT IT! You're gonna make me blush!", blushing hard, giggling along the way

-If Pomni gets flustered enough, she gets a nosebleed like a cartoon character! Her blood is black in color

-Ragatha lets Pomni help in the kitchen by grabbing ingredients for her. That's about it

-Ragatha was shocked hearing Pomni talk in Spanish and Russian for the first times (AN: YES, I still think Pomni's Russian and Hispanic)

-When they kiss, it's VERY obvious. Ragatha wears red lipstick, and it gets all over Pomni's face, making her all red and flustered, but she loves it every time it happens

-No one has told Pomni her eyes turn into hearts when she's infatuated yet. Not even Jax (Mainly cause Ragatha won't ALLOW him to do so)

-Pomni thinks Ragatha looks hot holding knives.... Ragatha's a little bit of a klutz with knives in reality

-Unlike Ragatha, Pomni actually likes bugs. She usually handles centipedes if any are around

-Ragatha has a big sweet tooth which is why she bakes. Although it has lead to Ragatha accidentally getting high because Zooble made pot brownies... Multiple times

-Pomni is easy to anger whilst Ragatha has a long fuse, but can be easily bothered

-If Pomni gets too stressed out, her teeth get shark like. She can crush a damn BONE with them, and Ragatha helps out with those said bones (don't ask where she gets them from)

-Pomni likes playing horror games whilst Ragatha likes calmer games

-Ragatha loves FNaF and will ramble about it to Pomni

-Pomni likes to draw! Ragatha loves ALL the drawings she does

-They watch Disney movies in bed together :D

-Most of their dates get ruined because of Jax or Caine (Sometimes Bubble)

-Ragatha gets oddly competitive in multiplayer games, thus why they don't play many multiplayer games together

-Slow dancing is Ragatha's favorite romantic thing to do with Pomni

-They usually kiss when both are laying down because the height difference hurts Ragathas back hurt when they kiss whilst standing

-Pomni HATES being wet with her clothes on. Pomni has to be carried by the scruff of her outfit like a cat because she just COMPLETELY shuts down due to overstimulation of the wet clothes against her skin

-Ragatha hates her hands, but Pomni finds them interesting, and she likes to watch Ragatha use her hands for various things JUST to see how they work

-Caine almost gave them a child by overhearing something they said wrong, but thankfully the two were quick enough to stop him

WOW that's a LOT of hcs. And maybe I have more. Hope you like them!

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monarchberrysblog · 2 months

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𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑰𝑻 𝑮𝑶

🔞 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎’𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a day in the life as a Resident in Nueva York’s Medical Hospital with miguel o’hara

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: medical terms (i'm no expert in medicine. i study law.), mentions of bodily fluids, loss, denial, the reader has MAJOR mommy issues (like miguel-), and heavy imposter syndrome. brief mentions of sex, suggestive comments, and ofc OOC MIGUEL.(FLIRTY ASS FOOL—)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: +4.5k words

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (new aesthetic?) yeah… I watch Grey’s Anatomy. sue me. but that show has some good drama. part two might be around the corner, i really want to make this timeline make sense. And I based this heavily on a couple of episodes in Grey’s Anatomy! (Like I mentioned, I don't study medicine and if there are errors, I am sorry!)

This is dedicated to the gossipers; all of you need some love. 💌

"Mom," You meek out, seeing her asleep on that usual brown leather recline with a blanket. "Yes, mija?" She groans out from where she sat on her seat. "I've been thinking—" She turns her head to you, showing those exhausted eyes to you—those exhausted, dull, dead-set eyes you were used to seeing as a child. "Don't think." She mumbled. "It's a waste of time." She grumbles lowly. "Well, I was considering going to Stanford and—" She hummed before it slowly became a lowly laugh. "Ay, mija. You silly girl." She grasped onto her glass of wine, soon taking a well-needed gulp.

"Stanford has a low acceptance rate! They only accept four percent of applicants! They wouldn't even glance at your GPA or application! Don't think about even using nepotism to apply!" You look down at the red wooden floors in the living room, hiding away your embarrassment like a dog hiding its tail between its legs. "Sorry, mom…" You conjured up, not daring to make eye contact.

"Go homebound or something…!" She murmurs in a low tone before slouching on her recliner. "Stanford… Que estupida." She brings her blanket up to her chest more to cover herself.

Entering your childhood bedroom, the Stanford University letter sat on your mattress, waiting to be opened. While grabbing the letter, you tossed yourself on the bed and held it up in the air, seeing the crisp letter before you.

Here goes nothing…

The sound of birds with the drizzle of rain greeted you out of your sleep. Your blanket was nearly slipping off your figure, with your pillow barely holding onto the edge of the bed. You let out a low groan from the back of your throat, soon opening your eyes and looking over to your right. The red digital numbers on your nightstand read a number you didn't want to see.

05:25 A.M.

It was too early to start your day as an intern. But something woke you up for a reason.

"Hey, you…" The sudden burst of cologne and a warm embrace snapped you back to reality as a nuzzle to your cheek was the first thing you felt other than the strong arms around your waist from your one-night stand. Your underwear on the floor, along with the man’s boxers, said everything.

"You need to go…" You sighed, soon grabbing onto your pink blanket to cover yourself, and got out of bed. "What's with the rush? Get your ass back into bed; we can pick up where we left off last night." You rolled your eyes, gathered your disregarded panties and bra, and threw them in the laundry basket from nearby. "No, seriously. You have to leave. I'm kinda running late for my job." You sat on the bed, letting out a well-needed big, quiet yawn. To the man, the sight you gave him was adorable. But to you, you looked like hell.

The man grabbed his boxers and his clothes, bunched on the floor, and gave you a sight while dressing up again. The man has the back of an adonis.

"Enjoying the sight, cariño?"

"No," You pause, not even remembering this man before you while giving you a free show of him putting his clothes back on. "Miguel." He intervenes, almost reading your train of thought, barely taking off for the day. "Nice place you got here, very Victorian." Miguel cleared his throat, looking at the antique furniture. "It was my mother's." You huffed, not thinking about your words.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that…"

You looked at him in confusion, trying to conjure his words. The sinking realization brought you back to reality as you collected yourself. "Oh wait! She's very alive, not dead. Breathing and living." You exasperated, slipping around the blanket tightly around you. A chuckle filled the space as he kissed your temple gently. "Will I see you again, chiquita?"

“No.”

"No?" He found the response more amusing than anything. He adjusted his shirt slightly before running his fingers through his messy hair. "Well, yeah? You can leave now because I'm going to take a shower, and when I'm done, you better be gone."

"I can just join you—" He adds, pulling you into a warm embrace.

"Just go."

The smell of rubbing alcohol and cleaning supplies filled the space, along with the hustle and bustle of doctors and nurses walking or running. You heard the manic talks of men and women were heard as you held onto your tiny purse of belongings. "Hey, girl!" A gentle nudge on your shoulder greeted you. "Oh, Jess!" You smile, acknowledging your ride or die. "Who are you interning for?" She smiles, adjusting her braids.

"The humbling reality."

"The humbling reality?" you questioned, nearly laughing at the persona. Yeah, it's Dr. Parker." She laughed, grasping her lunch bag. "Yeah," you chuckled, holding your purse. "I just didn't expect that nickname."

Jess shrugs. "Most residents call him that because of how he behaves." It was nothing but the truth. The man is in his early thirties, burned out, and has a baby. It's the only thing he talks about. It's endearing. "He always shows pictures of his baby to interns, so get ready to get bombarded."

"Alright, rule number one: Don't wake me up unless there is an emergency. I rarely get sleep at home since my baby girl is teething. She's been keeping me up."

"What a way to start my day as an intern…"

Following Dr. Parker or 'the humbling reality' felt like a task while you and the other interns caught up with the exhausted man. "If you have any quiet time, take it as a time to take a quick nap or to snack on something in the cafeteria." The man turned on his phone to glance at the time. "But I can't promise that it will last a while."

The phone's backdrop you glanced at revealed a tiny redhead playing presumably with his stethoscope, putting her mouth on the chestpiece. "Where's the cafeteria?" A voice questioned.

"Wish I can tell you, but you're gonna have to figure it out." Peter huffed out before grabbing a couple of pagers from a counter and glanced at them, soon handing them out to you and your interns.

"Another thing," He pauses momentarily before pointing at a specific door. "That door is the on-call room. Other doctors and nurses always take these rooms. So, sleep when you can, where you can."

A beep sounded as it cut Peter off during his mini-presentation before looking at the four interns, including you. "Another rule, please follow me."

"Ay, mija…" The older woman greeted you and Peter amongst the group of interns. Peter stays silent for a moment before he chuckles. You recognized the nurse before you, causing you to bite your tongue. "Did one of my interns catch your attention, Ms. Rodriguez?" Peter made his way over to the older Hispanic woman. The older woman nodded and gave you a weak smile. You smile in return, looking down at the ground.

"Peter, no need for formalities. Just call me Nurse Sofia."

Nurse Sofia, a scrub nurse you remember seeing a lot as a child, worked next to your mother for many years. She always brought you your favorite gummies or chips whenever she visited your mother. (Against your mother’s wishes.)

The memory of this older woman took over, and you ignored her conversation with Peter. The memory of her taking care of you while your mother was away in the hospital plagued you; how she would feed you her home-cooked meals, bathe you, and tuck you into bed always brought a smile to your face. The woman always made it a task to take you in as her own.

There were moments where, as a child, you saw her more as a mother than your birth mother.

Your train of thought ended as Peter placed a clipboard into your hands. He speaks to you, using your name to get your attention.

"You'll be taking care of Ms. Rodriguez." He pats your shoulder before he leaves with your other colleagues. Jess gives you a quick thumbs-up before following Peter along. The door behind them closes with a soft click, and you flip through the pages on the clipboard and sigh.

"It seems you'll be taking care of me instead." The older woman smiles gently and reaches out to hold your hands.

"I will try my best."

The first shift as an intern dragged on as you sat in the cafeteria with Jess, looking at the bland sandwiches and fruit cups before you on your tray. "I heard that you're looking over Nurse Sofia." Jess breaks the silence before she takes a bite from her home-cooked meal. "Yep." You huffed. "Didn't she take care of you?"

You nod, biting into the bland sandwich.

"She was my mom's, I mean, Cecilia’s scrub nurse."

Jess stopped eating her homemade pasta and put her fork down. A voice cut the conversation before the woman could ask more about the nurse. "Wait, is your mom the Cecilia?" Jess turned to look at the voice and at the other intern.

Her wavy, black hair got tied up in a messy bun, showing off her dark eyes and fair skin. She looked at you and frowned. "Your mom is Cecilia?" She then chuckled and did a second look. "She was the best surgeon here; what happened? Did she retire or something?" She sneers.

"Yes, she's vacationing in the Bahamas." You retort to her, not appreciating her attitude. The woman put her hands up in defeat, slowly hurrying away from the conversation. "Didn't mean to push your buttons." The woman sighed slightly, poking away at her salad.

"Xina, just stop." Jess sighs.

"Stop what?" The woman, now identified as Xina, leans back in her seat and gives you a shit-eating grin. "We all know that her mother is the Cecilia—" Jess glared at Xina, an informal form of telling her to shut up.

Xina shrugged before she looked off to the side and perked up a little from her reclined position. "Oh look, Dr. McDreamy, three o'clock," Xina smirks before fixing her hair and making herself look presentable. You glanced over to Jess and saw a disturbed look on her face. "He's mid." Jess shrugs, earning a chuckle from you before you look up to see this "Dr. McDreamy" Xina was talking about.

Oh… Oh no.

Miguel?

Peter B stood next to Miguel with a clipboard at hand while having a half-eaten donut on the other, having small talk with each other before you see Miguel roll his eyes at probably some crappy joke Peter told him or at an inconvenience he told him.

You looked down at your plate of half-eaten sandwiches and cleared your throat. "Yeah, Jess is right; he's mid." You coughed out, feeling the dry bread lodge in your throat. You grabbed your soda and took a small sip, relieving yourself.

You missed the person you were a few seconds before his head turned to look in your general direction. And then you felt it. His gaze fell onto you.

Oh fuck.

You looked down at your plate, almost as if the sandwich before you was the most exciting thing you saw the entire day, despite you looking at Ms. Rodriguez's yellow eyes and urine sample. "Hey," He calls out to you, enough to make you feel your heart drop to your ass.

"You're the intern shadowing me, right?"

What? No! Damn it, humbling reality! Did he switch me to be with this himbo??

"Maybe..." You answer flatly, shyly eating away at your dry sandwich. "I am."

Miguel nods and beckons you. "C'mon. You'll follow me this entire day instead of Peter." Miguel grumbles, not looking up from the clipboard.

God damn it.

Following Miguel around felt like a task more than anything. You would have to brisk around with purpose to catch up with the man. It was enough to piss you off. The final moment you caught your breath, you entered the elevator and took a deep breath. "You walk slow," Miguel grumbles, waiting for the doors to close. "Well, some of us are average and not as tall as you." You angrily huffed as you leaned back against the cold elevator and took a breather.

"Finally," You huffed angrily.

Silence carried the small space as the two of you stood silently. Tensions were rising like a tide on a full moon. "Dr. O'Hara-" Your words ended when Miguel chuckled at the formality you brought. This was someone else entirely in this elevator. Does he do this behind closed doors?

"Dr. O'Hara? This morning, it was Miguel. Now, it's Dr. O'Hara." He chuckled as the metal doors of the elevator closed. The color on your cheeks seemed to have failed you, but he didn't acknowledge it now. "Well, we should pretend what happened last night never happened." You breathed out as you moved a strand of hair away from your face.

"Pretend what never happened? The part where you were sleeping with me, or you nearly kicking me out of your home?" Miguel asks, adjusting his glasses.

"There goes that charisma you think is going to work. It is not." You heaved angrily, ignoring the growing feeling of embarrassment flushing onto your cheeks.

"It worked last night."

"You shut up. You've done nothing but become an inconvenience." You lowly grumble, crossing your arms and sighing. "I can become something else entirely in this elevator."

Just as he said it, you can hear the innuendo in his words.

"Dr. O'Hara," You scoffed, looking up at him. "This is highly unprofessional!" Miguel chuckles and ruffles your hair, leaving it into a muss. "I'm making a line, and you're crossing over it." You state with a firm tone.

You fixed your hair while making eye contact with the man you had a one-night stand. You give him an annoyed expression while doing so. The two of you stood in silence while the elevator continued up. "Well then, is this line imaginary or drawn with an Expo marker?" He croons, stepping close enough to smell his musk.

You pursed a frown on your lips, annoyed that this conversation was even happening, let alone see your sneaky link.

"Alright, chiquita, let's put this conversation on pause. It seems like my patient needs our help." The elevator dinging out loud filled the small space before the doors slid open. He rummaged through the pages before nodding with the information he was reading.

"Take her to radiology for an M.R.I. Beep me whenever you're done with that." Miguel demanded, handing you the familiar files of Ms. Rodriguez. You sighed, clutching onto the clipboard, and looked into blank space.

"You want the Whipple, correct?" He questions, giving you that all too-familiar smirk. You look at him again for a moment before you nod and get off the elevator first.

"I am so blessed to have you care for me, mija." The older Hispanic woman beamed weakly while you wheeled her to the first floor, more towards the ER area. "You know, there are different types of surgeons," Sofia continues as some doctors and nurses wave at her. "There are the types of surgeons who remember their patients' names, the ones who forget, and the ones who remember the surgeries."

"Your mom always remembered those surgeries."

You nodded to her words, and some hospital nurses greeted her and squeezed her hand. "Nurse Sofia," some greeted her, while some patted her shoulder. You exhaled and let the wandering doctors and nurses greet her before entering the radiology wing. "I'll be fine," she chuckled, disregarding the comments of worry and panic. You huffed out, not of irritation but of worry. This woman, who has raised you as her own, trusts her life in your hands.

"Let's get you ready for your MRI," you sigh, bringing the two of you into the radiology wing.

You hurried through the hallways of the hospital, holding onto the charts close to your chest. You halted in front of a whiteboard scribbled with surgeries planned out throughout the day. Skimming through the board, you hoped to see Nurse Sofia's name or even a mention of a Whipple.

No... Nothing... Nothing about a Whipple. Did he forget?

You made your way to Miguel, ignoring the slight fluttering-like feeling in your stomach. The fluttering feeling is enough to make you throw up in fear, but wanting to avoid any word vomit that could escape as well. "Dr. O'Hara," You called out confidently, standing straight like a pin. The moment his crimson eyes meet yours, the liquid feeling on your knees is enough to make you melt into a puddle of a warm, gooey concoction like honey on a marble counter.

Ignore the feeling, ignore the feeling, ignore the feeling-

"I see that you don't have Ms. Rodriguez scheduled for a whipple." You commented, ignoring the butterflies in your lower stomach. "Yes," Miguel replied. "Do you want me to write it down and schedule it?" Miguel furrows his brows and shakes his head. "I want to see her biopsy and overnight labs." He disregards your comment by adding a somewhat irrelevant comment instead.

"But we're still doing the surgery, right?" You ask, trying your best not to plead. But the look on your face said otherwise; the look on your face made it look like you were a kicked puppy wanting reassurance from its mother or owner. "The woman has pancreatic cancer; we're gonna do something." He forces a chuckle out before he ruffles your hair with his hand into a muss.

With furrowed brows, you felt a pout form and growled from the back of your throat. "You know what? No, can I talk to you?" You reprimanded, standing your ground.

"The floor is all yours, sweetheart."

You lead him from the busy space into a quiet hallway on that same floor. "I like what you're thinking, chiquita." He sneers. You glared at the man and shook your head. "What? NO! Get your head out of the gutter!" You demanded, deciding to lead the conversation.

"Have you Ms. Sofia's overnight labs and her liver panel?" You demanded, swallowing away the flutter in your heart. "Yes, and ...?"

"Yes? That's all you have to say? No, there's more to it. You know that the results suck. She is choking on her own vomit-" Your words come to an end as Miguel intervenes with his words.

"She is a very sick woman-"

"A sick woman with the need of the Whipple!" Your words silence the empty hallways, only hearing the sound of a draft. "Excuse me? Since when are you? Her surgeon? You are an intern following my orders." Miguel firmly questioned, flipping away from the flirty persona. He took her biopsy results away from your hold and read them. Your hands grasp the charts and pull them down from his view.

"No, don't look at those! Screw what that says! Because you know what I think?" The sense of heat rose to your cheeks, not the kind you get when you do something foolish but something of anger...

"I think that you didn't want to do the operation. You think it's a massive waste of time and want her to die here!" You scolded your words like venom, briefly pushing your feelings for the doctor away. The slight rise of his brow showed a look of being impressed, but the corner of his lips said otherwise. The subtle twitch makes you want to take those words back so severely that you want to get on your knees and take back your improper words. But what happened, happened.

But no, no backing down about what happened.

The silence and tension between the two of you is enough to suffocate anyone if they step into the space, almost as if they were in hell's gate. Heat crawls up your neck painfully, feeling it bubble up like boiling water in a geyser in Yellowstone waiting to be erupted. No words were exchanged as Miguel swiftly left the space, leaving you alone with your regret and embarrassment of literally yelling at your late-night rendezvous.

You sighed as you looked out to the dark outside of Nueva York, seeing the city lights brighten the horizon. You entered Sofia's room and sat in one of the chairs. A long exhale escaped, and you felt like your knowledge of the medical world had disappeared like you'd been a headless chicken running around. "How are you holding up?" the woman asked, turning her head in your direction.

A nervous laugh escapes, causing you to clear your throat awkwardly. "I feel overwhelmed." You nod with the statement, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. Sofia hums and sighs. "You are like your mother, kind of." She chuckles. "Her whole life is about her knowledge about being a surgeon, and here you are, doing the same thing." You rolled your eyes playfully at her words.

"Think about something else?" She suggests, getting herself comfortable on the hospital bed. "It helps me when I'm overwhelmed."

You humor her and let your mind wander in the blissful silence you spared yourself.

The pull of being in a jungle gym fills your mind. You remember how you moved through the monkey bars as Sofia cheered you on, watching nearby from the bench she sat on. Or you remember taking early morning strolls with her during the summer while your tiny hand grasped hers firmly. Or how you let the mom label slip out, calling the scrub nurse your mom by mistake a handful of times.

A smile tugs at your lips as you recall the vivid memories, recalling your childish antics with her. "Be like your mother when it comes to diligence and adaptation, but be yourself for me."

The beep from your pager snaps you back into reality. "I got to take this," you tell her. With a simple nod from her, you return the gesture and hurry out of the room. "I'll see you soon?"

"I'll always be here, mija..."

Days staggered, like a blur of events mushed together, like making a week turn into a day with consecutive tasks. As the days passed, Sofia didn't seem to be better but worse, making every little task impossible. It felt like seeing her dance with the grim reaper at the edge of a cliff with such grace, a dance you never wanted to witness. But that waltz would come to an end...

You stepped back into the same room for the umpteenth time this week, going to nurse Sofia's room. "Morning, Sofia." You greet her with a lighter, soft tone. "Mija," The woman beckoned you to her, waving her hand to you.

You made your way to her, lightly grasping her hand. "It feels like the old days, doesn't it?" She quips weakly, soon having a small coughing fit. "Take it easy, Sofia..." You whisper to her, soon making your way to her. A mere silence fills the space before you break the silence. "You knew that you weren't going to get the Whipple. Didn't you?"

You breathed out. The older woman with graying hair nods slowly, slowly stroking her thumb against your knuckles. "Yeah, I knew."

"Why didn't you tell me? You would have saved me a lot of trouble from Dr. O'Hara."

The older woman shook her head and chuckled. "It was about time you stand up for what you feel."

Your heart dropped at this, and embarrassment painted your cheeks. "How did you...?" You breathed out before you shut your mouth. "Word spreads like crazy here in the hospital. It's like a wildfire in California; there's no way to stop it."

"Thank you for taking care of me..." Her cold hands began to tremble, tightly holding your hand. "Shhh... Don't speak, Sofia..." You whispered to her, feeling your heart accelerate uncomfortably as you anticipated the worst.

"I'll always be here..."

Her eyes drooped, clutching your hand with the familiar firm grip you remembered as a child. She had the exact grip whenever she took you to the park or around the neighborhood for a walk. "Sofia?" The barbed wire grip around your throat became suffocating while the burning sensation was at the brink in your eyes. You put your stethoscope on quickly and tried to hear a heartbeat. Nothing. "Mom?" You slipped out, trying not to sob on the spot.

"Sofia, stay. Please?" You begged, suddenly feeling like a seven-year-old once again.

It felt as if your body did the motions themselves, rushing over to push the alarm button and rushing back to her to initiate CPR. "No, no, no... Please, no." You breathed out, seeing some nurses come to your aid.

"Someone page O'Hara." You breathed, continuing with the chest compressions, narrow-minded to your surroundings.

"She's a DNR." A nurse tells you, looking at Sofia's charts and paperwork. "No!" You howl, continuing with the chest compressions, feeling tired and worn out from the motions. "Doctor, she's a do not resuscitate-"

"What the hell are you doing?" The familiar voice fills the space as you glance at Miguel's scowl, indicating sleep deprivation. "Let her go," Miguel demands, making his way over to you. "No." You bellow, barely holding it together. "Let her go! She has a DNR." Miguel pulls you away, nearly yanking you away in midair. "Okay!" You yelled out, looking down at the ground to hide that pained look on your face.

The mere two seconds felt like hours as you took in steady breaths. You looked down at your trembling hands, feeling sudden uselessness in your system.

"Call it..." Miguel demanded, snapping you out of it. He tried to make eye contact with you, but it was impossible as you looked at the white hospital tiles. The nurses began to turn off the heart monitors and continued with their procedure. You nod slowly and let out a shaky sigh. "Time of death... 06:23." You nod before you swiftly leave the room past the nurses and Miguel.

You sat by the stairwell in the hospital, trying your damn best not to cry in the middle of your shift. But the tears rolling down your cheeks showed signs of defeat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." You sobbed to yourself, wiping your tears away with trembling hands.

"You fucking blew it, Cecilia was right..."

The heavy door to the stairwell caused your sobbing to come to an end and to look at the source of the sound. "C'mere..." The voice croons to you like you were an abandoned kitten left in the cold rain. You didn't leave your spot from the stairwell, still sniffling and holding in your sobs, but the whimper-like animal noises made it an easy find.

Light footsteps head towards you while you stay hidden behind the stairwell. "There you are..."

You let out a slight whine before you started to cry loudly, using your white coat to wipe away your tears. Miguel kneeled down to where you sat and slowly reached over to you, pulling you into an embrace. You tried your best to squirm away but failed as he managed to hold you down. "Miguel, I failed her..." You choked out. "Cecilia was right-" You continued to choke on your words, barely forming your syllables and sentences.

"Shhh... It's okay." He whispers, rubbing his hand through your hair. "Let her go, okay?" He whispers, trying his best to calm you down.

You nod slowly, soon accepting the embrace and sobbing into his chest, allowing your cries to vibrate on his chest. "We did everything we could. It's okay, I'm sorry..."

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel x you #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel x y/n #miguel angst #miguel ohara angst #angst #hurt/comfort

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candyrockpop · 1 year

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Prompt: Don't you dare throw that snowba- Damnit!

Wally Darling X GN reader

Can be read as platonic/romantic

Over your time living in home, you had never once seen it be anything other than sunshine with occasional rain.

But today? There was at least seven inches of beautiful snow decorating the neighborhood.

Once you woke up and saw the snow, you just had to get dressed in your winter clothes and go outside! Luckily you didn't have to drag anybody outside, though it seemed Julie was still trying to have some sort of picnic...

"Hey, Julie? I don't think you can have a picnic in this hold and this snow..." You told her softly. You didn't wanna break the poor girls heart! She just loves picnics too much. She huffed and, still as excited as ever, blurted out, "Fine then. Snowball fight!" And made a snowball and threw it at you. It hit your chest.

You grinned and she shivered, "Oh Julie, you should know better, we can't have a snowball fight without more players!" She let out a breath and grinned back at you. Both of you started making a small mountain of snowballs. You and her smiled at each other mischievously, grabbing a snowball and preparing to launch them. As they flew through the air they hit their targets, yours hit Sally and Julie's hit Frank. Both turned Round just in time to get a second snowball to the face.

That's how you managed to get nearly the whole neighborhood in a snowball fight. Eddie told you he didn't want to participate, so he was sitting nearby in a snow house you paused to make him for safety.

Just as you went to throw a snowball at Barnaby, you you heard a certain monotone laugh, "Ha, Ha, Ha. It's been awhile since snow fell." You turned, which was your own mistake, as you got hit in the back of the neck with a snowball, to see Wally standing just outside of the fort Eddie was in. You waved quickly and turned to throw a snowball at Howdy, who had all four arms raised to throw a snowball at Julie.

Then, you got an idea.

You turned back around, walking over to wally's side, hiding a snowball. "Hey, Wally! Nice to see you out and about on this beautiful day." Wally nodded, his smile seemingly widening at the sight of Barnaby getting hit in the snout. "I saw every neighbor having fun, and wanted to come out and watch," Wally looked up at you, looking sleepy as usual, "and I wanted to see you, neighbor." He had a small blush on his cheeks, and your cheeks heated up at his words. You almost didn't want to follow through with your plan...

You smiled warmly at him, a bit of a teasing tone to your voice, "Well, that's mighty sweet of you, though I can't help but think, why don't you join us?"

He looked at you, confused, before his eyes widened and he took a step back, "Neighbor, please. You don't have to do this..." He tried to put his hands up to protect himself as you giggled and followed him, "I know, Wally."

You threw the snowball at him. He let out a noise of surprise as it didn't nit his face. It hit his hair. You held back a laugh as his hair unraveled and fell into his face. He moved his hair and glared at you, crouching to get his own snowball, "Neighbor, Run."

You quickly turned tail, sprinting away from his as fast as you could. You could hear Julie and Sally egged him on, Barnaby laughing as snowballs started to fly past you, and Howdy and Eddie attempting to hold back a laugh. You laughed the entire time you were running.

That is, until you were tackled and knocked into the snow.

The air was knocked out of you as a seemingly, whole bucket of snow was dropped on your head. "How did you even catch me?" You groaned playfully. Wally let out another one of his laughs, carefully crawling off of you, "Julie threw me." You sat up and look at Julie with a look of betrayal. She smiled and shrugged.

You couldn't help but shrug and chuckle. Wally laughed too, at least until he got a snowball thrown into his mouth, courtesy of Barnaby.

I hope it was pleasant to read, and I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. I wrote this on my new phone and I'm not used to typing in it yet. This is also my first work. I just wanted to have a little fun with my ideas and with some prompts so here we are! Have a good next 24 hours!

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nixiefics · 19 days

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Surrender

The flickering torches cast erratic shadows along the ancient stone walls as the echoing laughter of two figures reverberated through the deserted castle halls. In the lead, stumbling and giggling, is you, hair trailing behind you like a comet's tail as you dart around corners and through grand chambers, your laughter echoing off the cold stone. Your cheeks flushed with wine, you glance over your shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Behind you, in hot pursuit, is Aegon, his own laughter mingling with yours as he navigates the labyrinthine corridors with a drunken determination. His footsteps echo loudly against the ancient flagstones, the sound of his pursuit driving you forward.

Your chase takes you through dimly lit passageways and past forgotten tapestries that hang like ghosts of a bygone era. As you careen around another corner, Aegon nearly collides with a suit of armour, sending it clattering to the ground in a cacophony of metal.

"Careful!" you call back, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably as you sprint ahead. You don’t think your heart has ever pounded this loudly in your chest.

But Aegon is undeterred, fuelled by the thrill of the chase and your infectious laughter. With a burst of speed, he closes the gap between you, his hand outstretched to capture you in his grasp. His grip isn't tight, he never wants to hurt you, but firm enough to pull you to a stop… just before a Kingsguard rounds the corner.

You cover your giggling mouth with your hands, trying in vain to stifle them. Aegon has his face pressed into the crook of your neck, breath cooling your heated skin as he pulls you against his chest. The small alcove is not much but it's a good place not to be found out.

"That was too close, Egg." you whisper once the clamour of the Knight's armour has receded. "Your mother would have both our hides."

Aegon's eyes grow lazy as he stares at you, fiddling with a trim on the sleeve of your dress. "My mother does not care for me, not truly."

The sadness in the statement aches and you swallow thickly as you pull him into your arms, petting his hair gently. "She cares… she is just busy."

He hums neutrally and inhales, savouring the smell of you. It had always been a comfort to him, ever since he was little and you had come to the castle for Helaena. You were her lady's maid but his best friend; the only person who had ever believed him to be anything more than a drunken lech.

"I have an idea," you pulled away with a sly grin. "If you can catch me, you may have anything you wish."

Aegon perked up and smiled faintly at your bravado. He may be drunk but he was still more agile than most - even you. "And what would that be?"

You scoffed lightly and slapped his chest, "How would I know what you wish to have? Keep up, princeling!"

You race through the palace corridors, the sound of your laughter echoing like music in the opulent halls. Your pulse quickens with each step, a mix of exhilaration and anticipation propelling you forward. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch a glimpse of the prince, his regal bearing softened by a playful sparkle in his eyes.

The chase is on, a delightful game of pursuit weaving through the labyrinthine passages of the palace. His laughter mingles with yours, creating a symphony of joy that seems to fill the very air around you. Dodging around corners and ducking through doorways, you revel in the thrill of the chase, the world outside melting away as you focus solely on the pursuit.

With each twist and turn, you feel his presence drawing nearer, the excitement building to a crescendo. And then, in a rush of adrenaline, his strong arms encircle you, bringing your flight to an end. Breathless and exhilarated, you find yourselves in front of his chambers, the soft glow of candlelight casting shadows across the hall.

"I believe I have won."

"I believe you have, Egg." you say suppliantly. "What do you wish to have?"

He blinks slowly and traces his eyes over the slim collum of your neck, to your exposed collarbone and finally back to your eyes. "My bed. Sleep…"

It's almost laughably disappointing but you concede, pushing open the door and taking his hand to lead him inside. With a playful challenge in the air, you launch yourself onto the bed, your laughter mingling with his as the tickle-fight commences. Fingers dance across the plush pillows, seeking out the most ticklish spots as you both squirm and wriggle in a delightful frenzy.

The prince's laughter fills the room, a melodic symphony that warms your heart. You retaliate with gusto, your own laughter bubbling forth like a spring of joy. In this moment, there is no prince and no lady—just two friends revelling in the sheer delight of each other's company. Though Aegon does wish that his lower extremities would, for once, not harden at the sound of your laughter.

He has long since given up the hope that you would ever invite him to share your bed, and so he merely keeps you close enough to satisfy the beast inside him - the one who calls for fighting and fucking. He feels himself harden further as your dress raises, showing him glimpses of the skin beneath; skin he could, and would, gladly explore with his tongue. You turn suddenly, your back to him as you continue giggling from the pressure at your ribs - and its enough to make Aegon choke.

Your behind is slotted perfectly against his erection and your wiggling is offering just the right amount of friction and, Gods, your smell. It's intoxicating to the point of madness.

"Stop, my Prince!" you plead, wheezing now, but Aegon is only imagining you beneath him as you moan his name with a plead for more. "Egg!"

Aegon groans as he feels his balls tighten and the warmth of come against his leg. He is seeing stars, he swears, as your wiggling slows down and you collapse in a heap of laughter, your breath coming in gasps as you struggle to catch your breath. Egg lies beside you, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his own budding laughter, his eyes wide with pure, unadulterated joy and surprise.

#aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon imagine #aegon ii #aegon the usurper #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x you

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jksprincess10 · 7 months

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Devour || Joel Miller x reader Halloween special

You make the grumpy Joel Miller wear a matching couple costume with you on Halloween. He takes it a little too seriously and tries to eat the little red riding hood.

CW: p with very minimal plot, Joel is a grumpy boyfriend, rough sex, dom!joel, brat!reader, bites, spanking, slight pain kink, oral sex (f receiving), rimming and a bit of ass play, pussy slapping and thigh slapping, begging, pet names (darling, little girl), dumb roleplay as teasing.

Divider by saradika

Notification blog

Masterlist

"I look fucking ridiculous."

"No, you don't."

He's wearing one of his red flannels, except it's opened slightly to show some of his chest hair. Joel also has torn up pants that you DIYed and he wears a headband with fuzzy ears on his head. There's also a tail somewhere on his behind glued to a belt.

You, on the other hand, are wearing a short white dress with puffy sleeves and a red hood. You have black socks that go up to your thighs. There's a basket of candy on your arm to hand out to the kids.

Sarah had gone out trick or treating with a friend. So, you both decided to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. What Joel didn't agree to, though, was to dress up.

"Come on, big bad wolf, let's give candy." You tease him.

"You will pay for it." He grumbles.

"Looking forward to it." You wink.

"See? Wasn't too bad. And the kids liked it."

The basket was emptied in a matter of hours. Sarah had also come by and asked if she could stay at her friend's. Joel accepted after lecturing her on how she shouldn't eat too much candy.

Joel sighs and finally starts peeling off his costume like the ridiculousness of it all was physically hurting him. But you stop him, holding his big hands in yours.

"Let me take it off, please." He grumbles.

"No, you're too cute." You tease him.

He pushes you to the nearest wall, holding your hands up your head to stop you. Your breath catches in your throat under the impact.

"You're such a fucking brat." Joel says gruffly. "Maybe I should devour you."

"Nooo, please mister wolf. Don't eat me." You respond in fake panic, trying to hide your smile.

"Shut up."

His teeth scrape against your jaw, your neck. He bites down on your skin softly, making you squirm. Joel presses you harder against the wall, trapping you with his weight.

"I dress up to make you happy. And you're still. Not. Satisfied." He growls, his lips sliding to your cleavage.

A veiny hand tears open the top of your cheap dress, revealing your lacey bra. He pulls your breasts out of their prison, and he lowers his head to lick and bite your nipples. His calloused hands hold your tits up as he curses under his breath.

"So naughty, darlin'." His fingers play with your hard nipples, and you whine under his touch as you press your hips against his, desperate for friction. "So fuckin' easy to please."

You lose it when he falls to his knees in front of you, his fingers sliding down your socks as he leaves kisses and bites on the sensitive skin of your thighs.

"Pull up your skirt." He orders.

You feel ridiculous like this, your breasts falling out and half of your clothes thorn, but you know better than to refuse. You lift the bottom of your dress, looking down at Joel. You see, from the corner of your eye, the shape of his teeth sunken in your flesh in a few places.

He cups your pussy through your panties, feeling just how soaked you are for him.

"You like bein' my meal, baby?"

When you don't respond right away, he slaps your thigh. You yelp, before responding shakily.

"Y-Yes."

"Good. 'Cause I'm far from being done eating."

Joel tears your panties like it's nothing for him, leaving you bare to the air.

"Now, where should I enjoy my meal? Do you wanna lay down, darlin'?"

"Please."

He lifts you up and brings you to the room you share together. He abandons you on your bed. Before you can do anything, he's on his knees again, pulling on your legs to bring you closer to him. Joel licks a long stripe up your pussy and you're so relieved to finally being touched where you needed him most.

"F-fuck, Joel..."

You want to tug on his hair, but you're stopped by his ridiculous fuzzy ears, that you throw on the floor. You tug on his curls, keeping him close. He laps and drinks at you like a man stranded in a desert without water.

“So fucking delicious.” He growls against your cunt, the hot air coming out of his mouth making you shiver.

You’re sweeter than candy and the sounds you make drown him in lust. You protest when you feel the warmth of his mouth leaving you.

“Don’t complain’.” Joel says harshly with a little slap to your swollen pussy. You yelp in surprise and bite your lip as you look down at him.

“M’sorry Mister wolf, please don’t hurt me…”

“Then stop bein’ a fucking brat, darlin’.”

With his strong arms, he manoeuvres your body just like you’re a weightless doll and suddenly, you’re laying on your stomach. He settles behind you and puts his hands under your hips to lift your ass up in the air. Without restraint, he bites into the sensitive flesh of your left cheek, and you can’t help the cry coming out of your mouth. Joel caresses the pain away, before spanking your other cheek harshly. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, all you can feel is the sharp pain and the overwhelming pleasure. You feel yourself getting wetter, and you know he can see it too. With his thick fingers, he spreads your ass and spits in your hole, watching as his saliva slides down to your pussy.

“J-Joel, please…” you whine pathetically. “Please, fuck me with your tongue.”

“You beg so nicely.”

He obliges, the tip of his tongue plunging in your tight pussy hole. He fucks you with it, in and out, tasting your nectar directly from the source. Your legs start shaking and he digs his fingers in the flesh of your thighs to keep you from falling. You come undone ridiculously fast, both from the electric pain from earlier and the pleasure he’s procuring with his mouth.

“Doin’ so good little girl, might spare ya.” He groans against your heat.

He doesn’t stop licking and sticking his tongue in your hole occasionally, his hand going around your thigh so he can draw tight circles on your clit at the same time. You feel dizzy from pleasure.

“F-Fuck…” You curse as you come again in seconds.

You feel him moving away slightly. “Gonna eat your other greedy little hole, baby.”

You know he’s telling you so you can always refuse. Joel never proceeds with anything if he feels you even getting slightly uncomfortable.

“It’s all yours, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He lands a harsh slap on your ass, leaving a bright red trace behind. You moan a little too loudly. Thank God you’re both alone. “You’re just gonna take everythin’ I’m gonna give you.”

He spreads your butt cheeks and plunges without restraint. It feels different, but pleasant. His tongue alternates between circling your tight ring of muscle and licking up and down your crack. Joel inserts two fingers in your pooling heat without much difficulty since you’re so obscenely wet, and he fucks you with his digits relentlessly as he keeps devouring your ass. You’re soaking his fingers in no time in a third blinding orgasm. He lets go of you and your body goes limp. You give yourself a few moments to calm your breathing down, before you get up. Joel looks wild; hair tousled in all directions and his lips swollen and shiny with your juices. You push him down on the bed and straddle his thighs. Your hands undo his shirt with haste, kissing every piece of skin you’re uncovering.

“My turn to eat.” You smile against his skin.

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