#she’s so messy it’s glorious

[missmouse43]

Imagine having someone look at you like this and then NOT immediately kissing them senseless

Could never be me 😮‍💨

[stevebabey]

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3 | ao3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey���s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

[helenanell]

A Breath Of Life || Part Two

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 Part One 

Pairing(s) :  Reader x Art – Reader x Tashi - Reader x Art x Tashi

CW: MDNI - Smut. Infidelity (kind of?). So much love and lust. ANGST. Manipulative behaviour. 

Notes: Fem!Reader, No use of y/n. This is really just me exploring my own bisexual panic some more.  Spoilers for the film.

Wordcount: 4.2K

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The moment you won the match that sealed your victory at Wimbledon,  the applause was rapturous.

And yet, Tashi’s triumphant shout was louder to you than hundreds of clapping hands. 

The sound of her celebration became yours, and when you let out a yell of your own, your racket falling from your hands, you became one with her. 

After that, her eyes did not leave you. You didn’t look but you knew it to be true, just as you knew the sun was shining onto your shimmering skin; Tashi was an incomprehensible being bearing down on you. 

When you lifted the Venus Rosewater Dish above your head–the silver trophy given to the women’s single’s winner–your smile was beatific. Not because of the rush of adrenalin, or the way your spirit had been buoyed by finally achieving what you knew you could, but feared you wouldn’t, but because you knew that in your victory Tashi had found her own. 

It had taken over a decade, but together you’d realised your dream. 

You knew deep down that you could have made it without her, but it would have been tasteless; a honeyed feast turning to ash in your mouth.

Achieving the title with Tashi by your side had turned everything technicolour. All of your senses were heightened and your sense of self revitalised. 

You lived for tennis and Tashi had helped that life become something glorious. 

When you stepped off the court it felt like a kind of conquest: your domain now stretched beyond the white lines that had so far confined you. You had taken more than a trophy, you had stolen space in people’s consciousness.

 You would not fade into the annals of time because your name had been recorded- it was to be engraved in metal which would be buffed into an unmissable shine. 

Even as you stepped into the plush locker room, you knew the winning moment was already being replayed and analysed. It made you smile to think that as commentators noted your form, they were publicly voicing the effects of Tashi’s coaching on you, to the entire world. 

You felt burned by her, but not as if she had branded you, rather that she had subjected you to such heat, that the very makeup of your body had been altered. 

Now, you're sitting on the wooden bench in the locker room with your head hanging low, sweat still dripping from your face when the door opens. 

You shoot to your feet, your beleaguered body screaming at you to slow down.

When you turn, you find Art standing in front of the now closed door. 

The sight of him takes away your breath. 

He is here too. 

In your greatest moment of euphoria, when you’ve never felt more tangible–more real–you get to be near him. Suddenly, all of the time that had passed between you didn’t matter.

He's with you now. 

Art leans back against the door, hands going into the pockets of his immaculate navy pants. A matching blazer that has been left unbuttoned stretches across his muscled torso, his sunglasses hanging from the neck of his white shirt. 

His cropped blonde hair is messy enough that you know he's been running his hands through it; with anxiety and elation he’d been dragging fingers through the blonde locks as he watched you play.  

Art has become something beyond handsome to you. Retiring has returned his vitality and it has been a stunning metamorphosis to witness. 

But it's change you’ve made yourself witness from a distance. The two of you have not been in a room alone together since he’d hidden in your bathroom as Tashi had convinced you to let her become your coach. 

For the first few months, things had felt far too fragile to acknowledge what had happened between the two of you. You and Art had come to a silent understanding that you needed the time to build back up a foundation with Tashi. 

If you were to remain in each other's lives, you needed solid ground.

But you had just won Wimbledon. You had just given Tashi a victory. Did either of you have the fortitude to go on denying yourselves? 

It has been a solid minute since Art entered the room and neither of you have shifted so much as an inch.

You’re fixed on the spot, watching him as he drinks you in. His gaze is laying possessive claim to your body, noting all the places the white vest and skort are clinging to your sweat-slicked curves. 

But it is when his eyes settle on your face, that a sort of peace soothes his expression.

“You were amazing.”

You can’t help but smirk, allowing yourself to feel cocky for once. “Of course I was, I won.” 

Art’s cheeks dimple with the strength of his grin.

“It’s not about the win. It’s how you moved when you played- like you could bend the whole world to your will. It was so beautiful. And you…” He pushes off the door and walks right up to you, chests almost brushing as he nudges your chin up with his finger. “You are so, so stunning.”

As he leans in, even though you don’t try to stop him, words of weak protest pour out of you.

“Art we shouldn’t. Not here-“

He cuts you off with a taunting kiss, his tongue trying to prize your lips open as his arm wraps around you.

His hand shifts up the sweaty material of your vest and lays his palm flat against the heated flesh of your lower back, all while his other hand trails up your outer thigh and beneath your skort to grab your ass.

You lean into him, hands wrapping around his neck and only when he draws back to kiss his way along your jaw, do you have a chance to speak again.

“Art, Tashi will be here soon. If she sees-“ 

“She won’t care.” 

Your brow furrows, but the confusion isn’t enough for you to stop his lips moving over your neck. “What?” 

As Art answers, his hand leaves your rear to dip beneath the waistband of your skort. You shiver as the pads of his fingers tickle all the way down, toying with the top of your underwear.

“You are all Tashi sees now.” Art clarifies, proceeding to nip at your exposed shoulder with his teeth. “You’re her everything. She could walk in on us right now and it wouldn’t change a thing.”

That gives you pause, indignation spiking at his easy dismal of Tashi.

You pull away from Art and he groans quietly but lets you go, his expression remaining completely content. 

“How can you say that?” You ask, growing irritable even as you let him take your hand in his.

“Because you’re everything that I couldn’t be for her.” He says. 

You sigh exasperatedly. “What does that mean, Art?” 

You don’t know why you’re asking, as you’re certain you already know the truth of it.

Art smiles, his other hand lifting to smooth a few sweat slicked strands off of your forehead. When he’s finished, his fingers settle with running over your cheekbone.

“It means…that you are all of her dreams realised. She resented me because every time I played, no matter how well, she knew it was nowhere near as important to me as it would have been to her had she never been injured. She hated me for not wanting it more….but, you have enough passion for tennis to play for the both of you. I never had that much to draw from. So, as long as you keep winning like you just did, she’ll love you. She’ll love you because you’re doing her justice.” 

After giving that insight that rang so true it almost hurts your ears with its incessant clamouring, Art leans in to kiss you again. You place a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back. 

“You felt like you were playing for her and it made you miserable.” You argue, hurt by the thought that his behaviour towards you is just rooted in gratitude that you have lifted the burden off of his shoulders. 

“It was different for me.” He answers simply. “I was miserable because I knew none of what I did was enough. I was still failing her. Tashi wants to watch great tennis and I didn’t give her that. You will. You are giving her that.” 

The way Art was speaking was producing within you a burgeoning unease; he was steady and assured, like he’d spent a long time thinking about this. And there was an undeniable undercurrent of pleasure to his speech.

A large part of Art was elated that the burden had been shifted onto you. 

But could you really hold that against him? You had seen how he was bending and breaking under the weight, it was why you’d told him to retire.

It was now your job to keep Tashi’s heart beating, you had known that the moment you’d agreed to let you coach her. That had been your choice and one freely made. 

So Art was right, you had to keep winning and you had to do so spectacularly. 

This was not a fresh revelation of course, but the possibility that Tashi wanting you close to her was entirely contingent on tennis, began to terrify you.

 You estimated you had a good five years left before you’d likely be forced to retire, but then what would become of you? Would Tashi even care to have you in her life after that? You were not bound to her like she was to Art by their daughter.

As if he can feel how your mind is whirring through the skin of your cheek, Art tips up your chin again and claims your mouth for another kiss. 

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, noses brushing. 

“When I think about all that you are, tennis doesn’t even register.” He says sincerely, placing a sweet peck to your lips.

You cherish his touch and ach for more, but it isn’t quelling the panic ripping into your insides like wind whipping up in preparation to become a storm.

“Art, I can’t- I need to tell Tashi what happened with us.” 

No anger or irritation appears on his face at your blurted words, but his other hand falls onto your back so he can pull you closer and you can tell he’s definitely upset about something. 

“What happened?” He rasps. “You’re placing what we have in the past tense. Is it not still happening” His fingers press into your skin proprietorially. 

“I can’t lose her, Art. But I also can’t lose you.” 

“Then tell her.” He says,  bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. 

“You’re agreeing just like that? It’ll ruin your marriage.” 

His lip tugs up in the beginning of a bitter smile. “Tell her. It won’t change how she sees you.” he affirms “Then you should ask her about Patrick.”

You barely have time to process his implication when the door opens.

 The two of you pull apart as Tashi’s head pops in. She looks entirely unbothered as her eyes glance off her husband before settling squarely on you.

“Get in the shower, we’ve got to get moving.” 

And just like that she’s gone again.

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“Do you need him?” 

Tashi’s question catches you off guard.

You’ve both been sitting in silence- her nursing a glass of wine and you with herbal tea as you both look out across the London skyline. Lights of skyscrapers are strung out across the black like fairy lights. 

You know who she’s talking about, but you’re terrified to acknowledge it.

You stop yourself from giving into the instinct to peer back through the open sliding door and into the hotel room where Art is watching TV. 

“In what way?” You ask, fiddling with the handle of your mug, still looking forward. 

Tashi huffs, putting her glass down and then turning to you, kneeling beside you on the outdoor couch. She takes the mug out of your hand, setting it on the nearby table before curling her fingers around your chin and forcing you to meet her unflinching stare. 

“Will Art improve your game or will he wreck it?” She sees your eyes widen and shushes you, stymying the words that had been gathering on your tongue. “This isn’t about me. I’m your coach, so I need to know that you’re going to keep giving this your all.” 

“I will.” You nod furiously, still held in her grip.

Tashi’s eyes flicker down your lips before finding your eyes again. Her hair is loose and being blown into your face. 

“I need you to tell me that if he’s watching you in the stands, that you won’t choke.” She says. “What the two of you have needs to light a fire in you, or it fucking dies. Do you understand me?” 

“I won’t choke.” You insist, your tone hard.

Her full lips press into a pleased line. “So are you going to keep dominating?” 

Slightly breathless, your eyes fall to where your fingers have been absentmindedly brushing her knee. You let your digits outstretch and as your eyes return to Tashi’s, you tentatively run them over her scar. You feel her shiver. 

“I’m going to keep dominating.” 

You both go still, and just as the corner of her mouth tugs up, she’s leaning in. You inhale a sharp breath as her lips just skim yours. She holds there, not pressing any further. 

When Tashi speaks, you feel her lips form the words against your own. “Then you do whatever it takes.” 

You truly couldn’t say which of you closes the distance, it feels more like an external, undeniable force driving the two of you to converge.

 When Tashi begins to move her lips against yours, her hand cradles the back of your head, twisting into your hair and pulling. You can’t help but let out a soft moan into her mouth, a hand landing on her waist and digging into the thin fabric of her silk shift.

Tashi draws back first, her hot breaths on your face as she presses two fingers to your throbbing lips. 

The question that comes out of your mouth has no malice or jealousy behind it, just an aching curiosity: you want to know her completely, in the way that you used to, and Art’s words from the locker room told you there was something you don’t know. 

“Tashi, what happened between you and Patrick?” 

She doesn’t rear back, she doesn’t slap you like she might have, she just lets out a slow almost contented breath.  

“I slept with him.” She admits calmly. “A few years ago in Atlanta, and the night before the Challenger match against Art.”��

All at once the visceral passion of that match makes so much more sense and even though you’re aware how twisted it is, you laugh. 

“You forced them to have the best match of their lives.” You say, your tone warring between disbelief and awe. 

Tashi answers with another brief, but ardent kiss to your lips, before she’s rising to her feet, her demeanour steady. Her expression is already returning to the stern set of your coach. 

“You need to get to bed. It’s a busy day tomorrow. Your physiotherapist is here at eight am. Nutritionist at eight-thirty.” 

You nod in agreement, lips still tingling as you rise to your feet. 

The night breeze stirs your hair and the thin fabric of your robe. Only when you turn do you see Art leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed against his chest, the fabric of his grey shirt strained against his muscles. 

When you meet his gaze he smiles so fondly that, combined with the residual heat of Tashi’s contact, you’re set ablaze. 

Right now you have both of them.

“Stay here with us.” Tashi asserts, running a hand over Art’s arm as she passes him to head inside the room.

“No need for you to go wandering down the hall in your nightgown again.” Art continues, the corner of his lips lifting as he holds a hand out to you.

You take it, letting him draw you inside. 

When the two of you reach the massive Queen bed, Art pulls back the sheets and you crawl happily into the middle of the mattress. 

All at once your exhaustion hits you, the softness cradling your aching form both lulling you into drowsiness and making your limbs remember each strained movement of the day.  

Your eyes fall shut, so you’re not sure who it is who causes the bed to dip, but you lean into the warmth irregardless. 

Art’s toned arm wraps around your torso as he draws the back of your body to be flush with his front.  He’s already pulling hair away from your neck and laying lingering kisses there, when movement in front of you causes your eyes to flutter open. 

Tashi’s standing in the bathroom doorway opposite you, her form backlit by the warm light as she finishes rubbing lotion to her arms.

 She watches Art holding you and she notes how he’s kissing you, a frenetic vibrancy takes over her expression. 

You hold her gaze as she switches the bathroom light and walks over. When she crawls under the covers, one of Art’s hands is moving past the neckline of your robe, his thumb running over your nipple. 

You sigh, your head falling back against Art’s chest, but your hand is moving forward across the mattress, searching for Tashi. 

It’s such a terrible idea-  an act that will join you all in another irrevocable way, but you have to have it. You have to have them. 

If you’re going to play tennis with Tashi as your coach and Art still in her life…you can’t choose. You can’t separate yourself from either of them. 

Your hand makes contact with Tashi’s as she lays herself right in front of you. She intertwines your fingers and leans down to kiss your chest, her lips skimming your collarbones. 

Art draws his hand away from your breast and his touch travels down your body, between your legs. 

You moan as Tashi’s mouth explores your chest, her tongue brushing over the swell of your breasts all while Art is pressing his knees between yours from behind. Now more open to him, he bunches your robe in his hand and rucks it up until it’s gathered at your waist. He pulls down your underwear.

When Art’s fingers begin to tease your centre, your gasp is lost as Tashi covers her mouth with yours, her free hand threading into your hair. 

Between the two of them, you find security in the ecstasy they draw out of you. Your entire body is flushed and sweating, cheeks red and chest heaving.

You’re beyond overwhelmed, but you try to savour every small touch and shift of their bodies.

Mostly you’re trying to remember the sensation of Tashi, because you have a feeling this may never happen again with her: even in your addled mind as Art begins to roll his hips, a finger pressing inside you, you’re aware that for Tashi this could simply be a form of motivation. You know that if she thought you needed this now, in order to keep playing the way you had today, then she’d do it without question. She’s motivating you.

 But is that all this is for her? It certainly means a lot more to you.

Tashi was the first woman you had been attracted to, the first person to make you question the limited nature of your desires as a young woman. And then she’d been your best friend, you’d loved and wanted her…and then you’d lost her. 

You both knew this wasn’t a sustainable dynamic, it would likely never be repeated, but for now you would savour being desired by the woman who had awoken yours so long ago. 

Right as Art presses another finger into you, plunging them the two in almost lazily, as if he has all the time in the world, he whispers in your ear: 

“Are you okay?” 

Tashi is still kissing you, but draws back when she hears the question, her lips plump and glistening. She’s giving you the chance to answer, you realise. 

The glorious tightness inside you worsens, friction growing as they stop touching you. 

“Yes.” You whine impatiently.

Art chuckles into your neck as you grab his wrist and guide him back into you, his fingers curling inside your warmth. 

But Tashi’s lips don’t return to yours, instead she leans down and presses them to your forehead before she’s crawling out of the bed.

You’re not worried by her retreat because you’ve always been able to read her face. As she backs away, your orgasm drawing closer as Art fucks into you with his fingers, you see that she isn’t regretting anything. In fact, she’s pleased. Not necessarily with what’s happening in front of her, but because Art–someone she has loved and still loves in her own way–can give you the intimacy she can’t quite bring herself to. 

You play tennis for Tashi and Art loves you for both of them. You think you can live with that.

 Even though you know you could, you don’t begrudge Tashi for any of it. She’s given you this. She’s given you Art and in as much as she can, she’s given you herself. 

As she slips out of the room, no doubt to go to her Mother’s suite and to her daughter, you are entirely content. 

Once you’re alone, you buck up into Art’s hand, your ass grinding against his hardness. He groans deeply against your neck and you almost cry out in protest as he pulls his fingers from right when you’re so close to release. 

But you are not left bereft of him for long. His arm moves beneath you, bracketing your chest with his hand and settling with a soft grip against your throat. He pushes down his pyjama pants.

It’s all too much when he begins to tease his hardness against your core. 

“Art. Now.” You reach down and dig your nails into his now bare thigh with force. 

As his grip on your throat tightens ever so slightly, Art complies and pushes himself into you from behind. He sounds drunk as he whispers into your hair:

“This will never be enough.” He thrusts into you with sweet slowness, letting you feel every tiny thing. “I’ll never have enough of you.” 

So lost in the pressure of him moving inside you that you’re alienated from your capacity for speech, you can’t find the language to tell him how this feels for you; you can’t tell him how much it means. 

Then he speaks again, his movements becoming more forceful: “I’ll never have all of you will I?”

You whimper as his hand that’s not on your neck dives between your legs, adding pressure with his fingers even as he fucks you.

“You do have all of me.” You answer raggedly, relinquishing free movement entirely as he cradles your body so restrictively.

He’s like a snake, tingling around your form before consuming your entire being.

“Tell me it wouldn’t change anything if it was just us.” Art begs, his breath catching in his throat and body shaking. “Tell me I’d be enough for you.” 

He thrusts again and you almost break with your shuddering release. You don’t try to remain quiet, crying out into the night. Art continues to move in you, desperate in more ways than one. 

“I can’t Art.” You admit, tears of pleasure and a sweet sort of pain gathering in your eyes. “I can’t tell you that. We need- we need them. B-both of them.” You stutter out, relinquishing yourself to your euphoria. 

Them. Them being Tashi and Patrick.

 You don’t understand Art without either of them. You don’t understand yourself without them. 

Everything was in relation to them, even the sex you and Art are having right now isn’t just about the two of you. And you both know it.

An indecipherable noise comes from Art as he pulls out of you, and in a blink, he’s rolled you onto your back and is pressing himself into you again.

His pace becomes rapid as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, hips snapping against yours.

You wrap your legs around him, driving him deeper as his body begins to tremble.

When Art comes apart, draping himself over you as he gathers himself, a tear of utter confusion rolls down your cheek and falls into his hair. 

Whatever comes next, at least you know you’ll never be alone. Art is a part of you. Tashi and Patrick are part of you. 

Without each other, there is no survival.

[moremaybank]

JJ's the type of partner to lift your stomach when you're pregnant so you can relax. He'd even praise you and leave kisses on your cheek, neck, and shoulders

this isn't even a smutty request but i got butterflies in my coochie rn

you're stood in front of the floor length mirror in your bedroom, brows pulled together in a frown as you peer at your pregnant belly in the reflection. your hands migrate from the protrusion of your fetus to your back, fingers pressing at the base of your spine as you try to ease the pain there.

jj walks in then, eyes immediately finding your face in the mirror. his smile transforms into a scowl, one to match yours.

"what's goin' on, pretty mama? you good?"

his arms wrap around your waist, forearms resting at the top of the hill that is your belly. and he drops his chin onto your shoulder.

"'m so sore. your baby is trying to kill me."

"whaaat? the audacity," he exasperates. he turns you around to face him, and he drops to his knees. his hands smooth over your stomach, and he gets nice and close. "hey, you. take it easy on your mama, alright? 'n let her pee when she wants. she's always tellin' me that you're sittin' on her bladder."

you smile, reaching downward to let your hand run through his messy locks. "thanks, handsome."

jj smiles up at you, kissing your belly before standing back up. he then drops a kiss to your lips, and asks you to turn around again. when you do so, his hands glide down your plump stomach, and seek refuge underneath it.

"lemme try somethin', baby?"

you nod, "okay."

he carefully takes the weight of your growing fetus into your hands, and the instant relief you feel is glorious. your head falls back to rest on his shoulder, and your eyes close as you melt into him.

"thaaat's it. jus' relax, mama. i gotchu. i got both of you." his lips trail kisses up from the edge of your shoulder to the crook of your neck, in between whispers of how strong and amazing you are, and how much he loves you for giving him his dream.

your hands cover jj's, thumbs stroking over his knuckles. "god, i love you."

you're in heaven, you think.

until he lets go, and you're back to stage one.

"j!"

he offers you a nervous smile, "'m sorry, baby."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[liketolovexx]

Rem’s copycat daughter. ~ R.J.L

{in which Remus’s daughter notices his scars, but thinks they’re just as pretty as you do.}

Harsh droning permeates your slumber and you reach to turn off your alarm clock. Once silence welcomes you again, you lay against your pillow with a deep sigh, soaking in the morning sun. Large, warm arms wrap firmly around your waist, and a warmth lays heavy on your ribcage. You look down to see a mop of disheveled brunette curls splayed across your middle. Unable to hold back your lovesick smile, you move to play with Remus’s hair. At the scratching at his scalp, he groans softly, squeezing you tighter while rubbing his nose into you. He looked like an angel in the morning light and it made you excited to live another day. With him.

“Daddy! Daddy!” A sweet, high voice calls. Your messy-haired daughter, all dimples and giggles, runs into the room. She launches herself onto Remus’s back, earning a hearty groan. “Ahh.. careful, sweetheart…” he mumbles, but rolls away from you to tend to his baby. You tuck yourself into his side, though, unable to face the morning chill even centimetres away from your husband. She’s already got herself under Remus’s other arm, her head laying on his shoulder. She’s looking at you with a big, excited smile. Much like her parents, she loves cuddles. Remus could die like this, he thinks. Both of his girls tucked under his arms. Protected. Safe.

Later in the day, in the kitchen bathed in glorious midday sunshine, Remus glides around, making his girls lunch. You sometimes make food, but Remus enjoys cooking thoroughly, and so he’ll make the occasional meal. He hums under his breath, clad in sweatpants and an oversized autumn jumper as he butters the bread.

“DADA! DADA, LOOKS AT ME!!” He hears his daughter cry, tiny arms locking around his shin. Dimples crack his cheeks as he puts the knife down, turning to admire his baby. You stand behind her, the proudest look on your face as you watch. She’s painted herself with felt-tip pens, drawing lines and swirls in all the places Remus has scars. His heart wrenches. “Look, daddy! Im you now!!! Super pretty!” She sings, jumping up and down, her hair bouncing and her grin wide. Remus kneels and pulls her into his arms, which she giggles and enjoys thoroughly. Nose buried in her hair, he blinks away unshed tears of pride, which dribble down the apples of his cheeks. “Oh, my baby..” he mumbles, before you stoop to join the hug. “You hear that rem? Super pretty.” You whisper, holding his head, and sandwiching your daughter in a gentle hug.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Enemies

Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Summary: Out on the pitch, you're enemies

You slid in hard, grazing the side of your legs as you skidded over the grass.

You popped back up a moment later with the ball which you hurriedly pass to Georgia to take up the other side of the pitch.

"Really?" Lena demanded as she got up too.

You shrugged. "No hard feelings?"

"Let us get a goal and then we'll be even," Lena bit back, shoulder-checking you.

"And throw the game? No chance! You want a goal, earn it, but you're not getting past me."

She scoffed. "We'll see."

Her challenge lit something within you because you made sure to put a bit more force into your challenges just to prove a point. It garnered you a few snide looks and glares but you kept them clean enough to not get a yellow card for your efforts.

You spread your defence across the whole of the Wolfsburg team but made sure to get to Lena first whenever you could.

"You're not getting past me," You said in injury time," Don't even try it."

It was one-nil to Bayern and you were determined to keep it that way. It wasn't the most glorious of score lines (certainly not Lyon or Barcelona level) but you were happy with a win no matter what.

"Watch it!" Lena spat back," Anymore aggressive and you'll get sent off!"

It was true, of course. You'd received a yellow card for dissent within the first ten minutes of the match before your competitive nature had been stoked after Lena had dispossessed Sydney messy enough for you to demand a yellow card.

Instead though, you had received one for arguing with the ref so you were really walking on a tightrope with the force of your tackles.

"You should watch yourself. With the amount you're collecting, one more and you're banned from the next match!"

You were standing eye to eye, the tension electric between you before you scoffed and walked off.

"You're not worth my time."

The battle waged on between you through the rest of the injury time, up until the referee blew the whistle.

The moment the match was over though, the switch had been flipped.

You laughed as Lena barrelled into you, catching you by the waist and twirling you around.

"You were excellent!" She laughed, dropping you down so she could press a kiss to your lips.

"You were too!" You replied," You nearly got me a few times! You had me really worried there!"

"Next time," Lena promised," You won't be able to cope."

"Sure," You said sarcastically, pecking her on the lips," You keep trying, baby. You'll get there when we're sixty."

Lena rolled her eyes, shoving you away by the shoulder before drawing you back in.

"You two are gross," Klara declared," Can you be all cute and sappy elsewhere? You make me sick."

You stuck your tongue out at her before allowing Lena to pull you away.

"Since I won today," You said as you wandered down the tunnel hand-in-hand," Does this mean you have to give me a massage tonight?"

"Don't push your luck," She said," I'm still sore over my crippling defeat."

"Crippling," You scoffed," Don't be dramatic, baby."

You split off from her to head towards the Bayern locker room.

"I'll pick up dinner but I'm expecting that massage when I get home!"

[staraxiaa]

sunflowers, the afterword:

author's corner/first thoughts.

okay. so. i am insane. i am a god. i just wrote 18k words for a fic that i thought of, planned, and created fully in less than two days, bc someone said i like to make ppl suffer and yes i do. but then i was like, i am GOING to write fluff and i took it personally. to that one reader, thank you!! anyways. i wrote this with the intent of using the prompt "you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" and barely even ended up using it. i don't know whether to laugh or cry. i hope it doesn't flop but also it's okay if it does bc i literally spent almost 48 hours brainrotting and word vomiting like it's out of my brain now and this feels glorious. it was random unfiltered thoughts and grinding away at 3am until i am empty. no thoughts left in my head. can you see? i could eat the world raw, the itch has been scratched. the sheer amount of motivation i had w this fic is never happening again. cheers! will update as i think of things! sorry to anyone who ends up reading this fully. i have been unreasonably fixated and have brainrotted over this for two hours, inclusive of sleeptime. while sleeping. i kid you not. i would wake up and something would click and i would hop over to the laptop and fucking grind away i am so sick of myself

unwritten scenes, headcanons

you guys are 20. you haven't started dating yet. you're a doctor. you guys are yelling at each other. you say 'you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.' katsuki's so angry that he does. ⇁ this was the original ending btw but i thought this one kinda fit better he brings you sunflowers sometime. real ones. he's sneezing all the while. you take one look at him and you die of laughter. he's still sneezing. you tell him: you know i actually didn't even care about them until i found out you were allergic. ⇁ if i could write nsfw i would do it here like dude do u see the vision omfg a whole side plot where he's like what the fuck do you mean you weren't dating deku. you're like. what the fuck. are u stupid. someplace where you actually address how you treat midoriya, his lack of a quirk, and how you stood by and watched it all happen ua sports festival. you kick everyone's ass. #you have been trained by eraserhead and you are super duper cool i also don't remember if i included this, but: your mother asks you after the first evening. "you're not really friends are you." you say: "nope!" and it is the happiest she has ever seen you. the ua boys try to flirt with you and get hurt really stupidly a lot on purpose. you wonder why they've stopped showing up. it's bc katsuki gives them a whole earful. and you're like bitch what the fuck im a doctor and and hes just tsundere about it first kiss scene instead of the ending where he's like you care and you're like of course i do??? what the fuck?? are u stupid?? you guys start yelling at each other and you're both acting like ur 2. he calls you stupid and blind. you call him ugly. he's so mad he literally just lurches forward and kisses you. it's awkward and messy and you guys are so mad at each other. you literally headbutt him in the face. ah young love. ⇁ this was another alternative ending more exploration behind reader's character, her insecurities, and about some of the stuff i info dumped before the start of the katsuki povs? i feel like i didn't handle that as well as i could have, but i also didn't want to go on 10 billion tangents for things that had very little relevance to the story. i also think the transition to the last scene was a little abrupt, but tbh at that point i was just so ready to call it like. i just didn't see the point. i think it would have made for a more natural reading experience, so here's the tea: he's proud of u but u guys are angsty and ignore each other until after training camp. [more brainrot pining moments]. if i had to write the above scene, i think i'd do something along the lines of: you're first aid relief at the sports festival, not actively participating. dunno if you'd be nearly as badass, though. you definitely get pissed when they muzzle katsuki and probably get rly mad but ofc u cant show it. so u just unmuzzle him and walk away and hes staring after u. this is ur ??? elsa arc? i dont remember the disney princess. the training camp is torture. aizawa makes u run with them. you tell him straight up that u hate his guts. he grins like that is the best thing anyone has told him in his life. katsuki definitely blows up some earth monsters for u. but while ur not looking. he's angsty like that. the bath scene? oh lord u just know he blows mineta up. maybe he lowk fucks it up too and you have to heal it! the potential HAHAHA. i dont know how you end up getting kidnapped, but id probably just bullshit a reason like ur the #1 healer in the world hurr durr and afo wants u! idgaf if the plot makes sense or not this is entirely secondary to my scheming. katsuki just about loses it when he hears you're one of the targets -> how you get kidnapped? idk. you're not a remedial student, so you're probably participating in the game (odd number of ppl right). unsure of how i'd handle the news of your kidnapping: just know katsuki loses it again. for like the 5th time. yipppeeeeee

character notes, thoughts

your quirk is literally just you take people's injuries into your own body and heal it yourself. you're superhuman. i put 2 thoughts into this: 1) you're a healer and 2) i like cool characters. congratulations. you have now been born. i don't even remember if i kept the shouto scene. but anyways i think my bias was showing. just had to throw him in there. also the kuroo mention. sorry i'm totally normal and i mean it ⇁ btw i love you all (everyone who likes/interacts with my fics) but i joke to my friends everytime someone interacts w my first bakugo/midoriya ones from lacuna bc guys!!! my shoto fic is RIGHT THERE!!! the baby that launched the entire collection. please show him some love this reader is probably one of the favorite ones i have written, more of an oc at this point i think, and i wasn't expecting her to grow on me so much. but lowk i love her and am so proud of the way i wrote her growth!! i do feel like i wrote her very soft, but i hope her flaws were made very clear⏤ she is meant to be a sort of unreliable narrator, so she also is overly critical of her own, but there were several things that were not addressed as i was writing, particularly concerning midoriya. (quirk, the bullying, bystander's guilt.) however, i think that including them would have made me go off on a tangent, and detract more from the main point of the story i also do think i wrote katsuki a little ooc, if only because i didn't see the point of including what's already there in canon. sorry. my brainrot did not extend that far, and by the end of this, i was literally ready to drop. his perspective isn't meant to be all-encompassing (in the story, it may seem like it purely bc of how i paced it) but those are meant to be like. random thoughts that appear in several scenes. reader does not have bakugo living rent free in her head 24/7, and neither does he. they're just stupid and pining and i just wrote all the moments in my head where they do.

[bell4lan]

Mischievous

Genre: smut

DNI: NON-MLM/NBLM, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers

CW: Semi-public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, praise, rimming, slight fingering

Character(s)/Reader: Top Dazai x Bottom Male Reader, Atsushi, Kunikida, Ranpo, and Yosano are also in the story

"Do you see them anywhere?" You asked your boyfriend as you looked around the restaurant you two had entered. He hummed and looked around for a second before squeezing your hand.

"Found them!" He said with a smile before leading you over to the table where your coworkers were.

"Dazai, (Name)! I'm glad you guys could make it!" Atsushi said as you both sat down next to him.

"We're happy to be here! It's nice seeing everyone outside of work." You replied cheerfully as you greeted everyone else. Atsushi nodded as Kunikida, who was sat across from him, got the attention of the waiter so you and Dazai could get menus.

"So, why did you choose this restaurant Atsushi? It's pretty pricey." Yosano asked as she looked over the menu. You looked at yours to see what she was talking about, your eyes widening at some of the prices. 'This restaurant must be fancy. Some of the wine here is more than my paycheck.' You thought to yourself.

"Well, Ranpo said he had been wanting to try their desserts since people all over the city have been talking about how delicious they are." Atsushi explained shyly.

"Thank you Atsushi!" Ranpo exclaimed with a smile, lollipop in his mouth despite being at a restaurant. A smile formed on your face from Ranpo's excitement. You glanced over to your right to see what Dazai had been doing since he had been uncharacteristically quiet, but he was looking at his menu with a small smile. He noticed your gaze, and moved his hand to grasp yours tightly, still looking over the menu. Butterflies erupted in your stomach from the small, but cute, gesture. You went back to looking at your menu and decided on what to eat.

Eventually, you all decided on what you were having and put in your orders. You were having a fun time chatting with everyone. Currently you and Yosano were talking to Ranpo about a case he had solved recently, while Atsushi attempted to calm down an irritated Kunikida as Dazai kept teasing him. You patted Dazai's thigh under the table as a way to tell him to tone it down. Luckily for Kunikida, he seemed to listen to you and teased him a little less.

Ranpo suddenly stopped talking and looked to his right, seeing the glorious desserts he had ordered coming to the table. He beamed as everyone's food was placed onto the table, quickly grabbing utensils for his desserts. Ranpo dug in immediately, making you laugh while Kunikida scolded him for being so messy. You then started eating your meal, humming to yourself as you tasted the yummy food.

Halfway through your meal, you felt a hand on your thigh. Glancing down, you saw that it was of course Dazai's. You looked up at him and smiled before getting back to your meal, but your attention wasn't on it for long. Dazai's hand started to move up your thigh, slowly making its way to a place he definitely shouldn't touch in public. You squeezed your thighs together so his hand would stop and gave him a look. He smiled innocently at you as he ate some of his food. Thankfully no one seemed to notice how weird you both were acting as they were to caught up in their own conversations or, in Ranpo's case, focued on their food.

A few minutes later, Dazai's hand somehow made it's way to your crotch and gently brushed it, making you twitch. You gave him another look that told him to knock it off and went back to your food. However, his hand didn't move. Instead it slowly messaged your cock, gently moving his hand so that you'd feel it rub against you. You stiffened and felt your pants grow tight, feeling flustered from how easily turned on you were. You quickly got up and excused yourself from the table, trying to hide your boner as you did, and ran to the bathroom. Everyone was startled by your sudden leave and gave each other confused looks.

"Is (Name) okay?" Atsushi asked, worry present in his tone.

"The food probably made him feel sick. I'll go check on him." Dazai said with a small smile as he got up from the table and followed you to the bathroom. Atsushi nodded and watched as he left, silently hoping that you were okay.

Dazai opened the door to the bathroom and saw that only one stall door was closed, so he knocked on it.

"(Name)~ it's me. Are you alright?" He asked, not a hint of genuine concern in his tone. The door opened and a hand reached out and grabbed him before pulling him into the stall. You had him pinned against the stall door as you glared at him, visibly flustered and angry.

"What the hell Dazai? Why would you do that in front of our coworkers? In public? Now i'm all-" You huffed as you gestured to your boner.

"Horny?" He finished for you with a smug grin like the little shit he is. Your hands grabbed his collar and pulled him closer so your faces were inches apart.

"You're going to help me get rid of this Osamu." You demanded as you stared deep into his eyes.

"I had already planned on doing that darling." He purred, his hands moving to your hips as he crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was desperate and sloppy as you undid his pants, feeling his already hard cock bulging through them. His hands quickly moved to do the same to you and groped you through your boxers, making you groan into the kiss.

Dazai pulled away and spun you around so the front of your body was pressed against the stall door. He knelt down and pulled your bottoms down further before squeezing your bare ass and spreading it, revealing your hole. He gave a few teasing licks before going all in and eating you out. You slapped your hand over your mouth as he licked and sucked at your hole, trying to silence your whimpers.

After what felt like forever, Dazai stood back up and eased his fingers into you, using the saliva on your hole as lube. "Does that feel good (Name)? You're being such a good boy keeping your voice down." He whispered into your ear, kissing down your neck as his fingers prepped your hole for him.

After a few more minutes, Dazai pulled his fingers out and spit on his palm, lubing up his cock. "You ready for me darling?" He asked, positioning himself at your hole. You nodded and felt him slowly push into you. A loud groan left your mouth once he fully entered, your legs trembling slightly. Slowly, he started thrusting. Your hands rested on the door so you could keep your balance, needy moans leaving your lips as he fucked you.

"Shhh. Quiet down baby, you don't want anyone hearing you, right?" He whispered, inserting two fingers into your mouth as he did. You shook your head and sucked on his fingers to keep your voice down. "Good boy. You feel so good you know that?" Dazai's other hand gripped onto your hip as he kept thrusting into you so you wouldn't fall.

"O-Osamu- ah! Th-The door is r-rattling too much. Someone will h-hear." You panted after pulling his fingers out of your mouth, looking back at him. His now free hand moved to your hip just like his other one and gripped you tightly.

"Then we'll just have to be quick." He whispered, his thrusts speeding up.

The bathroom was quickly filled with loud moans as he kept pounding into you. You couldn't hold back your voice anymore, it felt too damn good. You had been craving this for the past two weeks, so you couldn't help but get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting your prostate. Luckily, no one had entered the bathroom since you both started, so no one had heard the sounds of his cock going in and out of your hole, or your groans of pleasure.

"I-I'm close Osamu." You whimpered as you started stroking yourself. His hips snapped faster as he felt himself grow close too. His hands moved to spread your ass so he could get a look at your hole taking him, his cock twitching inside you as he watches.

Finally, you whimpered and came, cum spurting out onto your fingers. Dazai fucked you through your orgasm before pulling out and finishing into a piece of toilet paper. He turned you around and cleaned up your hand, leaving gentle kisses on your face as he did.

"There," he threw the toilet paper into the toilet and flushed, "all clean." One of his arms went around your waist while the other cupped your cheek. He pulled you into a short kiss before staring into your eyes.

"I still don't forgive you for making me horny in public Osamu." You grumbled, giving him a softer glare than before. He chuckled and pulled you out of the stall so you two could make yourselves look presentable again.

"Dazai and (Name) have been gone for a while. I'll go check on them." Atsushi said as he got up to the restroom.

"Don't. They're fine." Ranpo reassured as he started eating his last dessert. Everyone at the table looked at the man a little confused, but didn't question it. Atsushi nodded and sat down, resuming his meal. Shortly after he did you and Dazai walked out and returned to the table.

"Are you alright (Name)?" Kunikida asked as you sat down. You gave him a nod before drinking some water.

"Have fun?" Ranpo asked, still eating his dessert. Dazai started laughing softly to himself, but you just ignored him. You'll get your revenge on Dazai one day.

---------------------------------------------------

Hi guys! Sorry if this story isn't as good as my others. It's been in my drafts for months and I really just wanted to get it out, so here it is! I hope you guys enjoy!

I am slowly return to smut/writing in general, so please continue to be patient! Thank all of you for being so understanding and supportive, I really appreciate it! :) <3

[kteezy997]

Chocolate Boss-part two// Willy Wonka

WARNINGS: this is absolute filth

Smut, Licking chocolate off of Willy, oral sex (m receiving), titty fucking, swallowing cum, slight hair pulling

After that night in the kitchen, licking chocolate off of y/n, Willy got another idea to bring their little relationship to the next level.

“Come to my office after closing,” he told her earlier, “and bring some chocolate in a piping bag.”

He heard the door open, and in walked y/n, chocolate in hand. Willy stood up from his desk in an instant and started to undress. “I have an idea.”

"Oh?" Y/n grinned, eyeing him and biting her lip. "And what is that, Willy?"

"I want you to clean me tonight." he instructed, dropping his trousers to the floor. Upon the removal of his boxers, his cock was already semi hard. Just thinking of what was going to happen had gotten him excited.

She giggled, "Anything for you, boss." Then, she piped some of the chocolate ganache onto his lower belly, letting it coat his treasure trail. As soon as she got enough onto his skin to her liking, she kneeled down, and stuck out her tongue, licking a stripe upward on his abdomen, collecting the chocolate as she did so.

"Mmm," Willy whimpered, quivering, "more, darling, more please."

"Of course." she said, lowly, squeezing more of the gooey goodness onto him, lower this time, letting it drip down onto his shaft.

"Fuck yeah." he cursed under his breath.

Y/n let the chocolate cascade down the whole length of his cock. She put the tip in her mouth, sucking the chocolate off of him.

Willy grabbed onto her hair. As she swirled her tongue around his chocolate coated cock, he moaned and rutted his hips slightly. He was overwhelmed with sensations.

“Mmm.” she moaned, her voice vibrating on his cock. She sucked him as clean as she could, running her tongue down either side of his length for good measure.

Precum started to seep out of him, and he grabbed the chocolate. “Here, will you try it, sweet thing?”

She knew exactly what he was meaning. “Yes, yes please.” She was eager for this, waiting patiently on her knees like a puppy anticipating a treat.

Willy squirted some chocolate out right onto the tip of his cock. The rich brown color started to mix with his nearly transparent cum.

She put her mouth on him immediately. Sucking him fast, just needing to taste the yummy concoction. “Mm,” she moaned, satisfied as she swallowed Willy and the sweet chocolate.

Willy’s body began to shake. “This is so amazing. You’re incredible. Fuck.”

Not moving from her kneeling position in front of him, she took her top off.

He licked his lips at the sight of her breasts, remembering all that happened the last time he saw them.

Y/n put her hands on her breasts, and moved so she could nestle his stiff cock between them.

Willy could hardly breathe.

“Decorate my tits with the chocolate, Willy. Let’s get really messy.” She giggled.

He did as she desired, drizzling the chocolate, creating a pattern, covering her breasts and his cock.

She moaned explicitly, pressing her tits together, squishing his member as she pumped to and fro on him. The chocolate acted as a lubricant, letting her fuck his cock with ease.

Willy was panting, whimpering, about to explode. The sight of her plump breasts covered in chocolate on either side of his cock, which was red at the tip, it was fucking beautiful. The most glorious thing he’d ever seen or felt. He was absolutely trembling with pleasure.

He cried out, “Ahhh!” And his white, creamy cum spewed out of him, stringing ropes all over y/n’s boobs and face.

She moaned again in satisfaction, swiping her tongue over her lip to taste him, and of course the velvety chocolate once again. “Delicious!” she said, “You’re my favorite flavor.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl

[razorblade180]

Carmine:Dad! Can you explain this? *lifts photo*

It was a picture of her mother when she was sixteen. The scrappy huntress had a messy pixie cut and flashed a scrappy grin as she yanked a Gheist out of a statue with her bare hands. Ruby’s corset was a little tattered as belts hung from it while her legs were covered by black leggings and red spanks under her combat grin. Meanwhile her army style boots were deep in a Beowulf’s skull.

Jaune:That’s your mother hyped up on adrenaline and giving everyone a heart attack.

Carmine:Yeah but like…She looks so hardcore.

Jaune:Because she is. You should see the photos where she had those nose ring studs and ear cuffs. Went sleeveless for awhile too.

Carmine:…*looks left”

The hardcore woman was currently dancing to Maria’s old albums in the kitchen, her high heels tapping on the tile floor will her red and black dress swayed with her hips; much like her long glorious hair that was kept at bay with a rose scrunchie near her lower back. She noticed her daughter’s glance, waved happily like a corgi, then went back to dancing as she baked muffins.

Carmine:What the heck changed?

Jaune:Nothing. She’ll still buy those if she feels like it. It’s just after she roundhouse kicked Salem and saved the world she looked at us and said, “y’know….I guess I’ll learn to walk in heels.” Then her and Weiss became the world’s next obsession.

Carmine:Including you?

Jaune:Oh no. I’m the weirdo that saw a quirky girl make a crater in the courtyard and think “Ay she’s neat.”

Ruby:They say crime doesn’t pay, but it should be studied how much mileage a man got from sneaking into Beacon and befriending a klutz with poor social skills.

Jaune:Trust the process.

Ruby:Amen to that!

[rocketbirdie]

Arrrghh. People are finishing up Rebirth and looking up the different localizations, and the inevitable wave of hate for the English version is starting to gain traction again just like with Remake. I guess I just get super defensive about it because I have worked on large translation projects before, and it's not as straightforward as players seem to think.

It's not like the good ol' days of "This Guy Are Sick." They don't write the JPN script first, and then just send it out for translation anymore. Nowadays the different language scripts are all written simultaneously, with the teams working back and forth together, to check over each ofher's work and make sure that no one sentence is under- or overshooting a goal. Like it or not— everything is checked over and approved.

There's a lot more being translated than just words. There's so much to take into account— tone of voice, the cultural context, the lip sync and corresponding length of each line (which isn't allowed to run over by more than 0.2 seconds which is CRAZY). It's a messy process and it's a lot of goddamn work.

And then there's the audience, too. Different languages' audiences are often going to have wildly different interpretations of a character. A really good example from FFVII would be Yuffie. In the JPN version of the OG, Yuffie is written to be a confident girl who's dead serious about her ninja training. The ENG translation didn't do that justice... she instead comes off as a silly annoying kid pretending to be a ninja. Remake's DLC was testing the waters to see if they could write Yuffie in a way that's still faithful to both of the strikingly different regional perceptions of her character. And they nailed it.

The same thing happened with Cloud, and continues to influence the way he's written in the Re-trilogy. It's much more subtle than with Yuffie, but it's still noticeable, and I think it's why a lot of people get up in arms about his dialogue.

Cloud has always been written as having a stark disconnect between his tone of voice and his choice of words. It's just that the two major languages get it swapped! JPN Cloud has a harsh, mean tone, but his choice of words is polite and easygoing. On the other hand, ENG Cloud says a LOT of nasty shit out loud, but his true feelings are betrayed by his soft voice and gentle body language.

The difference goes unnoticed by the average player who isn't so invested to give a damn. But if you're actively searching for "bad translations" to get mad at, then you'll find them where one version's Cloud comes off a bit too strong. It's only natural that English Cloud is the one that pisses people off more often— after all, he's literally saying stupid shit to to piss other characters off constantly. His character is so convincing that players want to reach into their screens and wring his neck, and I think that's glorious.

But that's why it upsets me to see people turn that frustration at the localization teams. They didn't "ruin" a character's dialogue— they were just barely able to make something work, all things considered. Character, line length, culture, story context, facial animations, voice acting, for MULTIPLE languages, like... holy shit. It's a miracle that most of it is really really good, and that the bad is only a little bit bad.

Idk where this rant is going. Just... c'mon people. Have some respect for such an insanely complicated art form.

[notsosweetchan]

˚ʚ♡ɞ Good boy ˚ʚ♡ɞ

Warning: smut, male sub, fingering

Paring: |Felix x Reader |

Felix whined softly, eyes pleading with Y/N as he felt her hands move down to his already hard cock, stroking it gently. "Please, baby," he breathed, rocking his hips into her touch. "I need you to fuck me so bad." His fingers flexed in the sheets, desire coursing through him as she teased him like this.

He groaned when she leaned down to kiss him, their lips meeting in a messy collision that left them both breathless. Y/N's taste was addictive on his tongue, and he didn't want it to end. But then she pulled away with a smirk, rolling off him to straddle his waist instead.

"Such a good boy," she purred, grinding her hips against his erection. It only made Felix moan louder, arching up to meet her even more. "You've been so well-behaved today."

She chuckled softly against his skin before sitting up straight and grabbing the lube from the bedside table. With deft movements, she slicked up two fingers and then pressed them inside Felix, starting slowly but gradually increasing the pace as he gasped and bucked beneath her.

Felix's head thrashed on the pillow as she stretched him open with those talented fingers, feeling every intimate inch of him grow hotter and more sensitive under her skilled touch. When she had him where she wanted, she leaned down again and kissed along Felix's jawline while slowly lowering herself onto his dick.

Felix's eyes widened as he felt the heat of Y/N's body enveloping him. "Oh fuck," he breathed out, his back arching off the mattress. His fingers dug into the sheets, nails biting into the fabric as she sank down on him slowly, inch by glorious inch.

The feeling of his dick wrapped by Y/N was exquisite agony, and he loved it. He growled low in his throat, a rumble that vibrated through his chest and into hers.

"So good," he moaned, watching her breasts bounce gently with every movement. She felt so fucking incredible.

Y/N looked down at her work, grinning triumphantly as she started moving up and down on Felix's dick, hips rolling in a rhythm that had him panting and growing needier by the second.

She leaned forward, bracing herself with one hand on the headboard while her other held Felix's wrists in place above his head.

His moans filled the room, spurring her on as she rode him hard and fast, taking him deeper each time. The slick sound of their skin mingling together filled the air, punctuated by Felix's cries of pleasure.

Her pace quickened, and Felix couldn't help but meet it with his own thrusts up into her, desperate for more contact. Their bodies were synchronized now, moving together like they were made for each other.

Every stroke sent electric shockwaves through his system as she took him to the brink over and over again.

Felix could feel himself getting closer, his orgasm building with each thrust up into her slick heat. "Y/N," he groaned out, digging his heels into the mattress. "Y/N, I'm gonna-."

“No not yet ,” she purred, quickening her pace. His head thrashed back and forth, his body tensing under her.Felix wants to cum so bad,but he doesn’t want to disobey her .

She could see it in his eyes, feel it in his movements, and it made her heart race with excitement. He looked so fucking sexy like this, begging for release but holding back under her commands.

“Cum for me,” she commanded finally, pulling her hips back and jamming them down hard onto his dick one more time before stopping all together.

Felix's entire body shuddered in response, his cock pulsing against her walls as he came hard inside her with a guttural cry of her name on his lips. She shuddered too, feeling the hot spurts of cum inside her as she rode out the last few strokes before collapsing on top of him in a sweaty heap.

Panting heavily, they lay together in post-coital bliss for a moment before Y/N leaned down to kiss Felix's forehead softly. "Good boy," she whispered against his skin, her breath hot against his ear. "You did so well."

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Parties.

Pairing: Natasha X fem reader

Fluff :)

Warnings: none I think. Nat being jealous hehe

The start is written by @azaleavolkova so full credits to them!

Nats pov:

As per the end of a tough mission, a stark party was thrown. Probably one of the biggest yet, all paid for by Stark. I don't even think he monitors or has anyone to monitor who comes in. And that's why I'm here, I was invited as a plus one, to my beloved soon-to-be spouse. Yes, I'm engaged. And yes, I love them as much as my heart can. I mean, I'm constantly thinking about them.

Anyway, here I am, in the elevator at the Avengers Tower, in a black, long flowy dress, the straps of the dress wrapped delicately around my neck. Along with the dress, I have a cute little moonstone teardrop pendant with little tree branches on the sides on my neck, completing my outfit.

A ding rang throughout the elevator, the doors opening soon after. My eyes widen almost immediately after I saw how many people were here. I quickly regained my composure, walking through the doors confidently, looking around the room and seeing widen eyes, even some dropped jaws.

"Pick up your jaws, or else a fly will get it's way into it." As soon as I said that, a little fly flew its way into one of the guests' mouths, being spit out just as quickly as it went in.

I roll my eyes and walk through the crowds. Ignoring the stares and attention. My eyes searching for my fiancee. But unfortunately they aren't here yet. I silently curse and walk down to the bar.

Its been half an hour. I'm on the sidelines of the party mainly surveying the entry. But since my fiancee hasn't shown up yet I've decided to amuse the men that have conveniently surrounded me and offered drinks or a cigarette. Eventually I take one of the men up on their offer and take a glass of champagne from the man.

The guy himself isn't too bad looking. He has dark messy hair and brown eyes of the chocolate variety and if I wasn't engaged and in a happy relationship I would've given him a shot. But I found the love of my life and have no interest in the guy.

I chat amongst the men. My eyes lingering on the entrance. Though another blond man blocks my view leaving me slightly pissed. Now how am I meant to see my glorious fiancee when they walk in!?

It's been another half hour. I'm almost sick of the men. I'm holding my third glass of champagne and yet they still haven't shown up yet. I think atleast. That is until a group of men part slightly and I see her.

There standing in a teal dress that blends into navy blue is my fiancee y/n. And she looks gorgeous. Her hair styled into a braided crown. My eyes glued. I don't even remember the fact I'm surrounded by men until one speaks up about how he'd take my woman. I am now very tempted to rip his head off. But y/n would be disappointed if I ruined this night to I refrain till later.

"hold my drink boys. I'm going in."

I smirk as I hand one of the men my glass. His mouth opening slightly. I fix my red hair and step away from the group, ignoring the shocked stares from the men who thought they had a chance. I walk over to the greatest woman in my life and I kiss the back of her hand.

"glad you could join us darling."

I mumble against her skin as I pull y/n close. I've missed her. But I do get a giggle from the love of my life.

"Tasha it seems you have a shocked fan club behind you."

Y/n smiles. I roll my eyes. I could care less for the mob I just left. Instead focusing on y/n.

"let's not discuss them."

I ask as I step away from y/n pulling in her hand. She has pearl bracelets on. They look almost as pretty as she does. Y/n smiles back.

"you seem jealous."

Y/n grins. I look less amused.

"one was being unprofessional when describing a relation he wished to have with you."

I speak low. Jealousy flashing through my eyes. I know it does because y/n laughs.

"don't worry Tasha I only have eyes for you."

The affirmative voice calms down the green monster inside me. I pull y/n into a kiss she easily reciprocates. I want to hold onto the moment forever.

A/n: This is a work that was started by @azaleavolkova and full credits to her. The rest of the fic is my own original work however. The first four paragraphs were written by @azaleavolkova.

[yuesya]

Far beneath the royal capital of Leyndell and its myriad splendors, there lies a sprawling maze of darkened waterways and shadowed tunnels; antithesis to all that is good and gold upon the surface. All creatures who are shunned dwell down here, to while away their days within the dark.

Morgott and his twin brother, Mohg, had been cast down here upon birth. Demigod children of Queen Marika the Eternal and Elden Lord Godfrey they may be, even such godly, royal blood did not prevent exile. For they both were born Omen –wretched creatures who were not blessed with the grace of the Erdtree. The blood that ran through their veins was cursed, a quality that manifested upon their physical bodies as monstrous deformities. Hulking figures, and bestial horns.

It is a mercy that they still draw breath. That they are only chained and bound beneath the cavernous depths of the royal city. Other Omen are not so lucky; their horns are forcibly excised at birth, an act that more often than not results in death.

And death is something that Morgott is familiar with, too. There are corpses floating in the sewers, those of Omen and vermin alike. Bloated, deformed, crawling with maggots. It is a common sight, this scenery that is ever-present and ever-constant in the dreary darkness of this world.

(The only world that Morgott knows.)

“Brother!”

The distinct clink of chains is preceded by his twin brother’s booming voice. Loud, and echoing. Rats are sent scattering at his approach, fleeing in a messy wave that rattles Morgott’s own chains. The shackles upon his limbs hang heavy, as does the collar affixed around his neck, but this does not stop Morgott from lifting his head to heed his brother’s call–

–what is that?

… Wading through the foul sewer waters, Mohg’s towering, horned figure does not strike an unusual sight. What is unusual, however, would be the child sitting docilely in the crook of his arm, gathered haphazardly to his chest. No visible signs of any distress, or even any alarm at all.

It is a girl. Pale white hair, standing out starkly against the gloom of her surroundings. Blue eyes, abyssal and ringed with a distinct glow. Her appearance is one that is free of any blemishes and other such deformities –she does not appear to be cursed, so it is utterly baffling that such a child is here.

What madness is this?

“You –what have you done?” Morgott demands.

Mohg smiles. “Nay, ‘tis not I who is to blame for any of this! A little stray seems to have managed to wander down here on her own.”

“‘Fell,’” the girl corrects, tugging at the hem of his brother’s tattered sleeve with no compunctions. “I didn’t wander. I fell.”

“Ah, my apologies,” Mohg promptly acquiesces, readjusting his hold on her for better balance. “She seems to have slipped and fallen through the cracks –is that right?”

The girl nods agreeably.

… Except one does not just fall down into the bowels of glorious Leyndell like that. What is this child? And, more importantly–

Morgott clicks his tongue, “How are we to return her to the surface?”

Benign visitors from above are quite vanishingly rare, and for the most part the denizens of the depths below are simply cast aside and left to their fates. Morgott does not know when, or if their Lord-Father would choose to visit them again, and should this child expire during that time–

“Why?” Mohg asks. “We should just keep her.”

Morgott scowls. “Do not say such things in jest. You cannot just keep a child –surely she has family on the surface who are searching for her!”

Mohg peers down at the girl in his arms, “Do you?”

The white-haired girl shakes her head in clear dismissal of the notion. “Queen-Mother would only search for Godwyn.”

Morgott stares at the girl. So does Mohg, for that matter.

Queen-Mother. Godwyn.

The implications of her words–!

“… Your parents,” Morgott finds himself saying slowly, “You are a daughter of Queen Marika?”

“Yes.”

This strange child –one whom Morgott cannot sense any trace of divinity or his mother’s power from– is their younger sister? Half-sister?

This is… certainly unexpected.

[wreckedandpolemic]

insatiable, is what she is - matty healy

prompt: love potion

(mdni) day 2 of the valentine75 prompts by the inimitable @abiiors <3 i hope i'm doing them justice

warnings: aphrodisiac use (lets pretend these are real its my mind palace ok), unprotected sex, mild breeding kink, oral (f receiving), degradation, dom/sub dynamic, choking, d word

You stare down at the chocolates sitting on the table, unassuming foil wrapped around an alluring promise. “You ready?” Matty asks, his tone chasing a shudder up your spine. You’d teased the idea of an aphrodisiac a little while ago, tempted by the idea of lust so uncontrollable it consumes you entirely. In his way, Matty had gone off and ordered it, and you’d both promptly forgotten until it was sitting innocently at your doorstep.

Smirking, you pick up a chocolate and tap it against his in a toast, twisting the wrapper off with your teeth and placing it on your tongue. The familiar tastes of chocolate and champagne fill your mouth as it melts, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

You aren’t sure what to expect, studying Matty’s face carefully, searching for any sign that he’s affected. His eyes flicker over you and he laughs, giving a little, clueless shrug. “Waste of money, that, innit?”

“Give it some time,” you say, hand wandering to unbutton your blouse and grinning as Matty’s gaze drifts downward.

“That’s cheating,” he mutters, swallowing thickly. “You know your fucking tits drive me crazy.”

Raking your fingers through your hair, you lean and arch your back, pushing your chest out towards him. “Is it working yet?”

A smirk pulls at Matty’s lips and he shakes his head. “Nah. Just you, I think.”

You lean across the table with a pout. “Well, that just won’t do,” you say, spinning around in your chair and getting to your feet. “We’ve got to see if it works for real. Give it…” You examine the box. “Ten minutes, and we’ll see, hm? Good boy.” You pat his cheek patronisingly as he nods, swaying your hips purposefully as you stroll into the living room. A smile plays on your lips as Matty’s gaze burns brazenly into your ass, heat licking up your spine.

You kick back on the sofa, flipping through the channels and settling on some mindless sitcom, obnoxious laugh track blaring as you sift through your thoughts. It barely takes five minutes before heat is prickling under your skin and you’re sweating like you’ve just run a mile. Your hands act without your permission, stripping off your clothes and tossing them away, leaving you stretched out on the sofa in blush-pink lingerie. It barely works, the cool air brushing over you doing nothing to combat the fire roaring to life under your skin. You palm one of your tits and squeeze gently, that scant touch sending a bolt of desire through you.

Yeah, the chocolate definitely works.

Without you even noticing, arousal has started pooling in your underwear, damp as you dip a finger below your waistband. The pleasure is dramatically intense with the barest brush over your clit, shooting up your spine with a fierceness that sends you reeling. A moan slips from your lips, and, as if on cue, Matty cracks the living room door open. He looks as dishevelled as you feel, face flushed and sweating, damp curls sticking to his forehead, already stripped down to his boxers. You moan his name and his eyes blow impossibly wider as he crosses the room in two strides, collapsing on top of you and attacking your lips with fervour. Your legs tangle around his waist, grinding hard against his clothed cock, frenzied desire swallowing you whole.

“Need you,” you gasp out against his mouth, erratic bursts of pleasure snapping all over your body, the heat of him against you glorious and extreme all at once.

Matty moans into your mouth and you swallow the sounds greedily, your lips meeting in a slick, messy facsimile of a kiss. “Need you so fucking bad, fuck,” he hisses. “Couldn’t wait any longer, can’t keep my fucking hands off you.” He shoves his boxers down his legs and kicks them to the floor, his red, dripping cock thudding against his belly.

Your hips rock as you discard your panties, a whine falling from your lips when Matty’s rough fingers find your clit, rubbing over it for the briefest second and sending a pulse of white-hot euphoria shrieking through you. “Don’t tease,” you beg. “Need your fucking cock, Matty, please,” you whimper, savouring his low moan as you grasp his drooling cock and guide it to your greedy, dripping cunt.

“Fuck, princess.” Matty’s breathing is shaky as he pushes into you, filling you in one fluid stroke that knocks the breath from your lungs, your cunt clenching around his cock like a vice. “Love this cunt so much, yeah? Love your pretty hole taking my cock over and over and over.” He punctuates the words with deep, intense thrusts that have you unspooling faster and faster with every passing second, the pornographic sounds of your hips meeting driving you wild. Matty dips his head to bite savagely at your neck and chest, sucking stark, red bruises into your skin.

Thrashing under him, incoherent curses fall from your lips; you pant as your heartbeat races, hammering like a wounded animal. Heat pools in your core, your cunt wet and sticking your thighs, your head swimming in pleasure. Matty rubs tight, fast circles into your clit, fire catching under your skin and raging into a blaze that melts your flesh and chars your bones. “God, you feel so fucking good,” you whimper. “More, harder, please.” Your voice cracks on the last syllable, breaking into a drawn-out, desperate whine that has Matty groaning into your mouth.

His hips snap against yours with abandon, your eyes rolling back as you struggle to breathe through the sheer pleasure that crushes your lungs. “That’s it,” Matty murmurs, breaths coming hot and heavy against your lips. You swallow greedy lungfuls of him, intoxicated. “Good girl. My pretty little slut. Fucking drunk on my cock, hm?” A smirk stretches wide and filthy across his lips, bruised and spit-slick. “Gonna fill you up, yeah? Have you fuckin’ dripping for me,” he promises, his words sending steady drips of hot pleasure down your spine. Matty’s eyes go wide and he smirks down at you. “You like that? You like hearing how bad I wanna cum in this sweet cunt? Want me to stuff you full, put a fucking baby in you?”

Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, filthy words washing over you like a prayer. One last harsh circle over your clit, and you scream, the taste of iron filling your mouth as you bite down hard on Matty’s lower lip. Euphoria spills over you in unending waves, your grip on your consciousness going slack as Matty fucks into you over and over. He spills inside you with a sound that starts as your name and crumbles into a long, low moan, murmuring how he adores your cunt and how pretty it looks pumped full of him. 

You’re dizzy, back arching and body sweat-soaked as you come down from your high, whining when Matty pulls out of you. It barely takes the edge off, your body still simmering and weak with desire. “Want more,” you beg, grabbing at him as he pouts down at you, the faint edge of humiliation coiling hot and heavy in your core.

“Sweet baby,” he croons. “Let me take you to bed, hm?” You crush your lips against his in lieu of an answer, your stomach swooping as he scoops you off the sofa and gets to his feet. Your legs stay twined around his waist, grinding your cunt against his stomach and moaning wantonly into his mouth.

You only make it a few feet before Matty is depositing you on the kitchen island, kissing over the bruises on your neck as he makes his way down your body. “Drive me fucking crazy, love. Need to eat you. Please?” he murmurs, kissing over your thighs as you giggle and squirm.

Carding a hand through Matty’s greying curls, you rest your legs over his shoulders. “So fucking pretty when you’re on your knees for me. Fucking cuntstruck, yeah?” Patting his cheek, you shift your hips, arching your back to press your cunt towards him.

His tongue darts out to brush over your clit and you gasp, a bright spark of pleasure buzzing intensely up your spine. Your hand fists in his hair and you drag his head so his mouth meets your skin. A silent gasp falls from your lips as Matty works his tongue over you in long, sloppy strokes, alternating between sucking your clit and lapping at your hole in a toe-curling rhythm. Unbidden, your hips grind against his face, ecstasy churning in your belly as your hands white-knuckle the edge of the counter.

Matty moans into your cunt, the sound rolling through you deliciously, white-hot pleasure flooding your vision as your eyes screw shut. “Taste so fucking good,” Matty murmurs reverently, palms gliding over your thighs and sending a shiver up your spine. “I can taste myself on you. So fucking hot,” he adds, burying his head back between your thighs and tongue-fucking you wildly.

Pulses of heat throb desperately in your cunt, a second heartbeat jackhammering against Matty’s mouth. His fingers come up to rub at your clit, calluses scraping at your tender nerves gloriously. Your thighs clench around his head, trapping him in place as he eats you like a man starved. Pleasure builds at the base of your spine, spreading through your limbs and setting your head spinning as you grind desperately against Matty’s mouth. The elastic band of tension in your belly pulls tighter and tighter until it rends in two, shockwaves coursing through you as you gasp and writhe. Your vision whites out, euphoria overtaking you, so hot it’s blinding.

Matty moans softly between your legs, murmuring encouragingly as your arousal drips down his chin, your cunt pulsing with the aftershocks. The storm of desire still rages under your skin, wanton and begging, thick and sticky in your lungs as you struggle for breath. He gets to his feet, leaning down to kiss you, and you lick the taste of you out of his mouth eagerly. On instinct, your legs lock around his waist, your wrecked, soaking cunt pressing against his cock. “Think you can take one more?” Matty asks, nails biting into your hips as he lifts you off the counter.

“If you don’t fucking split me open on your fucking cock in the next five fucking seconds—” Matty cuts you off with a searing kiss, your lips tender and swollen against his as he carries you into the bedroom.  You smile blissfully up at him as you fall against the sheets, his eyes blown wide and his jaw slack. “Come on, baby,” you moan, hand falling to toy with your clit. You’re greedy, soaked in a pleasure so all-consuming that you can’t think of anything but him. You want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Can have me any way you want, just want your fucking cock.” Your words come out slurred, thick with desire.

Matty holds still, eyes roving over you. How he has so much control over himself still, you can’t begin to fathom. Then, a muscle jumps in his jaw, his fists clenching, and you realise how hard he’s fighting for it. You widen your legs and moan theatrically, showing off for him, and you watch the thread of his control snap. “Fucking slut,” he hisses as he collapses on top of you. “Greedy little whore. Fucking gagging for my dick, yeah?” he murmurs between kisses so hungry they border on violence. “So fucking wet and needy,” he adds, trailing teasingly across your cunt, sharp pleasure spiking when he meets your oversensitive nerves. “Just a pretty little hole for me, hm?”

“Yeah,” you moan out, whining needily. “‘M your whore, Matty, please—”

Your words break off with a gasp as Matty rests a hand around your throat; not yet choking you, just a warning, a promise that tingles deliciously up your spine. “Shh,” Matty murmurs, soothing tone at impossible odds with the pressure of his hand at your throat. “Be a good fucktoy for me, yeah? Nice and quiet?” You nod frantically, your grasp on language faltering, slipping from your mind to make room for the ever-growing pool of desire swelling there.

A dizzying burst of pleasure wracks you as Matty tightens his hand around your throat and fucks into you at the same moment. Your pulse hammers under his fingers, your heart racing so fast it’s deliriating, your limbs heavy with euphoria. A string of pathetic whines and moans fall from your lips as Matty — there’s no other word for it — pounds into you, the mattress squeaking rhythmically with every thrust. The stretch burns deliciously in your sore cunt, the angle mind-numbing as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“My pretty girl,” Matty murmurs reverently. “You love this, don’t you? Being a good little toy for Daddy?” Your mind goes blank, breath trapped in your lungs, your body suspended in endless pleasure. It’s constant, unyielding, stronger than you’ve ever felt, your cunt clenching around Matty’s cock, every thrust drawing you closer to rapture. Matty watches the change in your face with a smirk, gripping your throat harder as he speaks. “Daddy’s little slut, yeah? Just a pretty hole for me to fuck, hm? Get off on being used like this?”

You moan out something that sounds enough like yes to satisfy him, and he lifts his hand from your neck to grip your jaw, pulling your mouth open. Your tongue lolls out expectantly, and his spit lands in your eager mouth. Eyes fluttering closed, you swallow obediently, a shudder rolling over you when Matty returns his hand to your throat. “‘M so close, Daddy, please,” you whine, rocking your hips up to meet his as ecstasy wipes you clean.

“I don’t care,” he hisses, punctuating his words with another squeeze against your throat. “Shut up and fucking take it like a good girl, yeah?” His words wash over you, degradation striking you with all the tenderness of a caress. Slick, pornographic sounds ring out, your world going fuzzy at the edges as a yawning chasm of pure bliss opens under you. You balance precariously on the edge, your orgasm pulling you closer every time Matty’s hips meet yours. “You feel so fucking good around my cock, princess. Such a good little cumdump for Daddy. My pretty toy.”

His words tip you over the edge, praise sliding sweetly against the burn of humiliation. Your world shatters into sparks that burn behind your eyes as you come harder than you think you ever have. A scream you’re only vaguely aware is yours rings out, arousal gushing out of you and soaking Matty, puddling on the sheets under you. Chest heaving, you gasp for breath, clutched in euphoria so dramatically intense you aren’t fully sure you haven’t died.

Your body shudders, wracking with aftershocks and finally sated as Matty fucks you through, making good on his promise to use you like a toy. He offers you the small mercy of lifting his hand from your throat, eyes glazed as he gazes down at you. “Fucking hell, angel. Such a good girl, squirting on my dick. ‘M so fucking close, fuck.” Matty drops his head to kiss you, muffling his whines against your mouth as he comes, cock twitching and pulsing, pumping you full and painting your insides.

You pout at the loss when he pulls out, and he chuckles fondly, thumbing over your bruised lips. “Such a good girl,” Matty says. “Did so well, princess.”

Still cradled in bliss, you smile beatifically up at him. “‘M your good girl,” you murmur happily, eyes slipping closed.

“Yeah, you are,” he whispers, rolling off you and pulling you close, gathering you into the safety of his arms. “That was fucking amazing, darling. Can’t believe I made you fucking squirt,” he adds, awed, and you can hear in his voice that he’s going to make a mission out of recreating it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you tease, finally coming back to yourself. “Never been that horny in my life. Fucking chocolate.”

You giggle when Matty pinches your hip in response. “Oi. Thought I fucked all the brat out of you already.” He brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, adoration plain on his face as he watches you smile and blink sleepily.

“You’d try,” you scoff, whining and cuddling closer when he tries to move.

“Baby, we really need to get cleaned up,” Matty says with a quiet laugh, extricating himself from your arms and padding into the bathroom.

Matty runs you a bath, acting a complete gentleman the whole time, cleaning you diligently and crooning apologies at all the right moments. The steady thump of his heartbeat lulls you, your body bone-deep exhausted against him. Somehow, in that time you lost to your hazy, satisfied mind, he’s changed your sheets. He pulls one of his shirts over your head and lays you down gently, letting you relax against the crisp smoothness of the fresh sheets. Limpet-like, you cling to Matty as he falls next to you, tucking your head into the crook of his neck; the warm, familiar scent of him envelops you as your eyes finally flutter closed.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi! Love your writing and I wanted to give you some food for thought, see if it interests you perhaps 🤭 Astarion×Tav is usually about someone smaller in size and maybe a druid or healer, but my character is a tiefling berserk barbarian... with a bigger body size... horns and tail in all their glory... if you are interested I'd love to hear if you'd got some headcanons for a character like this? 💕🙏🏻

Hi! When imagining a bigger f!Tav with Astarion, I can't stop thinking about Gwendolyn Christie (aka Brienne of Tarth) and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (aka Jaime Lannister). Look at the photos of them, especially when Gwen wears high-heels (and she also has a husband who is much shorter than her but sews all her dresses to make her the most fabulous 6.3 ft tall woman)

Also, Neil Newbon plays a bigger druid, Tav. He was shocked that she picked Astarion in the first sex scene ^-^

NSFW Version

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x F!BulkyTav

When you hug, Astarion's face is right up against your chest, and he can hear your heartbeat.

Which is soothing to him.

The running water problem is solved! You lift Astarion "bridal style" and put him onto your shoulders to cross the river.

Astarion is grumpy about it every time.

But deep inside, he enjoys it.

Need a better view to aim? Well, you are right here in all your barbarian 6.3 ft. glory!

Astarion can't take his eyes off how graciously you walk with a two-handed ax on your shoulders.

And once you both return to the civilized world, he will get you a dress and high heels.

Because with high heels and a dress, you will look like a gods damn goddess of war!

Is he intimidated by the fact you are taller? Never. You are his big and powerful wife, and he's proud of everything you do!

You are a big spoon, of course. And being wrapped in your hands makes Astarion feel warm and safe.

When in rage, you don't feel pain, and it hurts him to see you wounded and with broken bones

He puts your head on his lap and strokes your hair to soothe you after the battle.

Once, Astarion was caught off guard by vampire hunters who beat him and left him helpless in the sunrise.

You managed to get there right in time to crack the hunters' skulls.

And quickly carry Astarion to the safety and darkness.

Unfortunately, the merciless sun burnt him enough to slow vampire regeneration, and it took Astarion a month to fully recover.

All this time, you nurtured and fed him, telling him stories and legends of your people and only leaving him once you needed to fetch some food for yourself.

Seeing him being able to walk again was the happiest moment of your life.

When he drinks your blood, it's him sitting on your lap.

"You are a messy eater, you know that?" you ask, seeing him covered in your blood.

"You are a terribly messy eater, I hope you know that?" he comments, looking at you eating a boar's leg.

He laughs at you being not so discreet in the wilderness and attracting all sorts of enemies in your journey.

"Darling, you are loud like an ork and have the manners of a giant!"

Once you got so drunk in a feast after killing a dragon, you came to Astarion and started talking different sweet nonsense.

"I want to have silver-curled babies with you. Imagine how fierce they will be!"

Indeed, you are strong and fierce, wearing the heavy armor set, but you are still a woman, a woman Astarion loves and takes care of.

"Wear a helmet, Tav! Last time we had a quest, our half-ork companion used your head as a battering ram! Get the fucking helmet!"

Once, the enemy was too strong, and you ended up severely wounded. The most challenging thing for Astarion was to get rid of the heavy armor on your broken body to carry you to a safe place.

The view of you in pain and agony traumatized him so much he didn't dare to leave your side until you fully recovered.

You want to die in a glorious battle and bards to make songs about you.

Astarion promises you not to step into the sun once you die this glorious death but to make sure every bard and storyteller knows about your deeds and adventures.

But until then...

You have plenty of things to kill!

Hope you enjoyed it!