#thirst iv bag

[todayisafridaynight]

post-workout

[saetoshis]

k-kunigami …

[kelly6ridge]

I got vitamin gummies for the first time ever in a last ditch attempt to take my vitamins more regularly (read "at all") and now am facing the opposite problem.

they are *delicious*

i want devour all the bottles at once. kinda pissed i dismissed them for so long for people who couldn't swallow

anyways I'm typing this to avoid the intrusive thoughts saying eat all the gummies. and like getting iron poisoning or something

[froggibus]

Power Trip - Miguel O’Hara

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f! Reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Miguel comes to your universe seeking comfort, but gets the opposite when he sees you on a date

CW: kinda sorta maybe dubcon?, friends with benefits, dom! Miguel, sub! Reader, jealous! Miguel, possessiveness, fingering, oral (f! receiving), slight orgasm denial, begging, sub/dom dynamics, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, Miguel is kind of an asshole

ive been incredibly down bad for this man lately so here is the result of my 2am thirst writing lol <3 also idkidk I just love the idea of fwb with Miguel and him being super possessive while also being noncommittal

————

It’s late by the time Miguel is back in your universe, but you’re nowhere to be seen in your studio apartment. He knows you were here recently, he can smell it. Smell your perfume lingering in the air. 

The sweet smell floods his senses and only adds to his annoyance. Where are you going this late at night, dressing up all nice and smelling so sweet? Who are you seeing?

The thought of you going on a date has the adrenaline pumping through his veins. You’re his. You should be with him. 

He pulls his mask back over his face and climbs out of your window, pulling out his phone. He opens up the app he installed on your phone to track you, narrowing his eyes when he sees the red dot pulsing at a bar. 

Because of course you’re at a bar. 

Miguel watches you from the shadows of the rooftop across the street. You’re all dressed up, sipping on a Manhattan while some loser chats you up. He can’t help but size the guy up—he could snap him like a twig with one arm. 

What the hell are you doing with a guy like that?

You can feel eyes on you, and not just from the guy in front of you talking about his crypto. No—you’re being watched. You can feel eyes burning into the back of your head, watching your every move. 

The feeling makes you tense, shoulders bunching up to your ears. You finish off your drink and start pulling your coat over your shoulders. 

Crypto guy looks at you in confusion. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yeah, I just, I need some air,” you say, and before he can protest anymore, you’re shoving your way onto the cold, crowded streets. 

Miguel doesn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time, silently trailing after you. He almost laughs at the way you look over your shoulder, trying to see if you’re being followed, but falling just short of seeing him. It’s adorable, really. 

As if he’d ever let anything happen to you. 

You set down your bag and jacket at your kitchen table, rolling your shoulders to loosen the tension. Something in the shadows catches your eye and you sigh. Of course. 

“You can come out now,” you sigh. 

Miguel steps out of the shadows, broad frame towering over you. His jaw is clenched and he looks unimpressed. 

“What are you doing here, Miguel?”

“Who was that at the bar?”

You sigh, leaning against your counter and rubbing your temples. “We’re not together, Miguel. You shouldn’t even be here.”

He steps closer to you, fists clenched at his sides. His dark eyes narrow on you, eyeing you from head to toe. “Answer the question.”

“Jesus—just some guy, okay? Why is it any of your business?”

You’re playing a dangerous game, like running across thin ice and expecting not to fall through. You avoid looking at him—you can feel the tension in the air. 

And then Miguel laughs. Really laughs. You stay perfectly still, clenching your hands on the counter. Heavy footsteps approach you until you can feel him standing behind you, hard breathing echoing in your ears. 

His hands grasp your hips, sharp nails digging into your sides. He tugs you back to him, holding your hips flush against his. “It’s always my business,” he growls. “You can pretend all you want, dear, but you will always be mine.”

His words have your breath catching in your throat, heat flooding your entire body. You squirm under his touch with no real intention of getting away, body fully submitting to him just from his touch. 

“See?” He rubs his hands up your sides, roughly cupping your chest and squeezing hard. “You like to play pretend and tease and run away, but you come back to me. Every. Single. Time.”

He squeezes again, hovering his lips over the base of your throat. A gasp falls from your lips. You can feel his fangs grazing your throat, sharp teeth brushing the sensitive skin. You close your eyes, bracing yourself on the counter in front of you. 

He pushes his hand under your shirt, cold fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin. You shiver from his touch, throwing your head back against his chest. His other hand snakes around your throat, holding you still so he can sink his fangs into your neck. 

The puncture stings as always, blood rushing to the sensitive vein he just bit into. Miguel manages to balance the pain with pleasure—rolling your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gently rubbing and harshly tugging at them. 

He moans at the taste of you, hot blood flooding his mouth. You’ve always tasted delectable, and he’s never been able to get enough. You shake in his arms, whimpering from the feeling. He can smell your arousal in the air, flooding his senses. 

He releases your neck and drops his hand from his shirt, lifting you up and tossing you onto the counter. He towers over you, broad form engulfing the kitchen light. He rips off your shirt, practically shredding the flimsy fabric to pieces. 

“M-miguel!” 

He rolls his eyes at your antics, pulling so the edge of your thighs rest on the counter. He pulls your pants off in one, swift motion, leaving you naked and shivering on the marble countertop. 

The smell of you only gets stronger, sending the blood rushing straight to his groin. You look so pretty like this, so weak. His for the taking—not that you’d ever protest. 

Sharp teeth graze the plush skin of your thighs as he plants kisses up to your heat. The feeling of his breath just above where you need him most has you arching your back, pushing your hips into his face. 

Miguel takes that in stride, wrapping his hands around your thighs to hold you in place and forcing you down to his mouth. The first touch of his tongue against your swollen clit has your eyes rolling back, pleas for more filling the air. 

You reach down to tug on his hair, dark curls falling through your fingers like silk. The feeling of you pulling on his hair and shoving your hips into his face only makes Miguel hungrier for you. He slips a finger inside of you, working you open. His fingers are so long and so thick, they stretch you open better than when you do it yourself. 

He pushes another finger inside of you, pulling his mouth away so he can watch your drooling hole open up around his knuckles. “As if any other man can make you feel like this,” he growls. 

He dives back into your pussy, burying his face between your legs. The added contact has your legs shaking, muscles quivering around his face. He slips one more finger in, reaching that spot that he knows drives you crazy. 

It only takes another second before you’re being thrown over the edge, crying out for more while trying to pull away from him. Miguel keeps a tight grip on your legs, holding you against his face while you ride out your orgasm. 

He pulls away, a twisted grin on his face. “Look at you,” he shakes his head, tugging off his pants to reveal his hard cock. 

He strokes it with one hand, using the other to trail up and down your shaking body. You’re looking at him with those needy, desperate eyes. It’s like you’re begging him to take you. 

He lands a slap to your pussy, laughing at the way you whine and try to close your legs around his hand. He spreads your legs apart, positioning himself between them so all you can do is wrap your legs around his hips. 

He shoves his way inside of you, your walls straining to take him after all this time. He’s so big, so much bigger than you, it’s a struggle. You close your eyes and whine, reaching desperately for his shoulders. For anything to ground yourself. 

Miguel settles into a steady pace, slamming his hips into yours, bottoming out with every thrust. He’s so deep inside of you, stretching out every part of you. 

With every thrust he admires the fucked out look on your face. Your whines and whimpers and pleas for him to keep going only drive him further, speeding up his pace just so he can keep hearing you whine like that. 

You claw at the skin of his back, each thrust pushing you farther across the counter before Miguel tugs you back to him and thrusts again. You slide your hands from his shoulder to his arms, gripping at the muscles of his forearms. 

His muscles flex with every thrust, tugging you even further against him. He watches how desperate you are, how badly you need to finish. He knows if he keeps up this pace, you won’t last long. 

So he stops, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of you. 

You whine in protest, opening your eyes to reveal tears starting to form. “W-why’d you stop?”

“Admit you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a thrust before holding still, “or you don’t get to cum again.”

“M-miguel, please,” you whine, looking up at him with those desperate eyes. 

He stares at you unimpressed, trying to resist the urge to keep going so he can finish too. But he won’t. Not until you say it. 

You try to thrust your hips against his but he holds you still, and he’s so much stronger than you that there’s no chance of moving. 

You sigh. You didn’t want to be put in this position again, but he’s so sexy and you’re so hot and wet and all you want is to cum, and his big cock is just sitting there inside of you. You clench around him, whining. 

“I-I’m all yours.” You whine, trying to pull him back to you, “only yours.”

He grins, immediately thrusting back into you. His pace is faster now, more frantic. Desperate. 

He wipes a few tears from your face, “isn’t it just so much easier when you submit to me? Don’t you love it when you don’t have to think about anything other than being my slut?”

His words make you drool and clench around him, wrapping your legs around his waist to force him deeper. Miguel gets the hint, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and fucking into you even harder. 

He’s so close, but he refuses to finish until you do. He leans in, leaving gentle bites up and down your neck and collarbone. The slight pain is enough to finish you off, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves. 

As soon as he feels your legs shaking, your muscles relaxing, Miguel knows he can let go. He pounds into you a few more times before bottoming out and letting wave after wave of cum flood your insides. 

The hot feeling has you moaning, lazily rolling your hips into his while he pumps his cum inside of you. Miguel pulls out, admiring the sight of you on the counter with his cum leaking out of you. 

He pulls on his clothes and leans in to kiss you. “This is how it should be,” he says. “You better be ready for me next time, no nonsense.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smirks at your submission. “Good girl,” he says, and disappears into the night. 

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 6.2k

content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.

notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear

PART IV — better yet, she wouldn’t care 

“If I have to hear one more handjob joke, I’m gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.” 

Lee Fletcher’s dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, “Bare with me, newbie.”

You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on — you’d had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time you’d broken your wrist you’d been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldn’t help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadn’t trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury — when you probably should’ve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game. 

It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldn’t have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians — barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didn’t have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been standing right in front of the notice board.” Luke had been saying all week. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to accompany you there, then.” You replied every time. 

Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, “Well, it’s looking good. I don’t think you need this anymore.” 

He lifted up the knot of bandage he’d removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, “You’re the best.” 

“I’m told.” He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, “But you should still take it easy today. It’s your first game, and you’ve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.” 

You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, “I’m not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. I’m beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.”

“He’s on your team.” 

“I don’t care.” You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. “See you later!” 

The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didn’t realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didn’t see the relevance — after you’d broken your wrist, the boy hadn’t even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn to…sit around and watch him train. 

Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasn’t letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile. 

“I think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.” 

You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, “Hey. I’ve only been here twice.”

“In…” He checked his imaginary watch, “One week. That’s gotta be a record.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, “Okay. I’m still learning, leave me alone.” 

“We’ll see how much you’ve learnt later today.” He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, “Good luck.” 

“Thanks.” You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes. 

“Come on, clumsy. Let’s get to training.” He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations. 

For this game, they’d paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened. 

Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls — Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all. 

Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadn’t taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off. 

“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood. 

Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch. 

“Okay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.” The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. “You all know the deal. I won’t repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, but…” She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, “You know where to go. We’ve been practising this, and in a couple of hours it’ll be time to bring home yet another win.”

“It’s pretty much all in the cards for us.” Luke cropped himself into the speech, “Cabin Nine have their special machinery but we’ve got wit, power and numbers. We’ll be fine.” 

“Speaking of cabin nine.” Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, “I grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didn’t sabotage it.”

She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you. 

“Wait.” You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, “This is mine?” 

“You’re damn right.” She smirked, “Jake was having a field day making that thing, couldn’t stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,” She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, “They’re lethal. You’ll be unbeatable out there with this thing.” 

“Cool.” You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, “Whoops.” 

You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought — a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusa’s head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. You’d have to ask Jake about that later. 

“We have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we won’t bore you with details.” A young girl who you’d seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. “But if I see you lazing around, I’ll put my dagger through your foot.”

There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him. 

“Sunny.” He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, “This is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.”

You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, “Hey, Annabeth.” You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you. 

Luckily she nodded, “Hi. You better be good with that spear.”

“I’d like to think I am.” You joked. She didn’t laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing you’d been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, “I think she gets her stoic indifference from you.” 

He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, “Yeah. She’s a firecracker.” He looked at you firmly, “Think you’ll be good for this game? It’s not too late to back out.”

You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, “You just want an excuse to use this instead of me. I’m fine, JoJo.”

He raised a single brow, “Fine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, I’m not gonna kiss your wounds better.”

You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, “You wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

He laughed, hand on heart, “Right.” 

You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasn’t made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didn’t stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought. 

You would’ve practised the whole time had it not started raining — something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could just…make it rain, but you went along with it. You’d only been a demigod for a week after all. 

Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night — you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up. 

You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, “Stolls. What do you want?”

A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, “Bold to assume we want anything.” 

“I mean, we do.” Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. “Ow! Asshole.”

“Cut to it.” You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless. 

“Well…” Connor started. 

“Luke put us on second offence.” Travis continued. 

“But we sorta hate doing second offence.” 

“Yeah, it’s way too much work.”

Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, “And we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.”

“So you wanna swap spots?” You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, “Ok, first of all, there’s two of you and one of me. You’ll have to find someone else to swap with too.”

“Already done.” Travis nodded, “Sabine loves second offence.”

“Second of all,” You sent them firm looks, “Luke isn’t going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.”

“Which is why we aren’t telling them.” Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like he’d presented you with the best idea ever conjured, “Luke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.”

“Plus,” Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, “This is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.”

“Yeah, Luke’s had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.” Connor raised a teasing brow, “Why not show him what you’re made of?” 

You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word. 

The rain hadn’t settled — Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasn’t too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket — Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldn’t keep up with her I’m too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you! 

“Welcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!” Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. “The usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!” 

There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded — they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.

“Hey.” Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, “You got this, Sunny.”

You nodded, “Damn right I do.” 

It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldn’t hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same. 

It wasn’t long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, “Shove off, punks.”

Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters. 

“Stupid kids. Can’t be trusted on last offence let alone second. It’s not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.”

You didn’t bother responding — whether you were going to agree or come to Luke’s defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look. 

“Those Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.” Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder. 

The twins didn’t question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone. 

Then it was a waiting game. 

“Fuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.” 

Evie scoffed, shaking her head, “No. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.” 

Sabine hummed, “No. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.”

You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer. 

“No, see —“ You huffed, “I couldn’t marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.”

“But we all agree on killing Hermes, right?” Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, “Ok. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis and…Hypnos.” 

There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay — He’d fall asleep halfway through! — but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, she’d never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees. 

Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side. 

Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves. 

A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action — you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height. 

You’d seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucks…fucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too. 

But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again. 

Briefly, you could hear your peers’ own battles. There weren’t any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lightning, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t land that second hit. 

Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear. 

The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks.  

Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more. 

You’d completely forgotten you weren’t alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head. 

There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers — the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse — the blue team's flag in hand. They weren’t moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.

Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, “Move!”

And they did. Even when the blue team kids you’d been fighting  before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory. 

They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations — the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it. 

Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, “I don’t…I don’t know what happened, it just —“

But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else. 

When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed — how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you. 

You almost missed Chiron's next words,  

“Zeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.” He shouted your name, but it didn’t feel right in your ears, “Daughter of the Sky God.”

When you couldn’t stand the sight of it — when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they weren’t staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud. 

After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped. 

The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears — you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldn’t answer that. 

They Iris-Messaged your mother — who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. She’d had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most. 

“This new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.” Was one of the last things he said, “But you should be fine, since you’re seventeen.”

“Why does me being seventeen mean anything?” 

Zeus’ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if you’re only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if you’re planning on living there. There weren’t any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didn’t have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head — he could smite you for it, you didn’t really care anymore. 

You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room — you thought they’d have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them — and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door. 

It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, “Hi.”

She smiled back, full of pity, “Hey. Just thought I’d come check on you, we haven’t seen you in hours.”

“I didn’t like them staring at me.” You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, I get that.” Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, “But, um, it’s dinner right about now. Wanna…come with?”

You didn’t really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, “Sure.” 

The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something — maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we can’t be friends anymore because you’re forbidden. You didn’t stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged. 

You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadn’t seen him all day, he hadn’t seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt. 

So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont. 

You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry. 

People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt. 

“What the hell, man?” He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, “You’ve changed, bro. And not for the better.”

Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction — and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed. 

He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into that…thing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow. 

He turned to you, “What?”

You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, “I…uh…”

Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, “Go to the campfire.”

“What —?”

“Go to the campfire.” He was backing away, “Entertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I don’t know. Do something, but don’t do it here.” 

You weren’t having that. Your gaze hardened, “Hey. You’re not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.”

“I —“ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. “You disappeared.”

“I was in the Big House, being interrogated.” You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, “I would’ve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.” 

He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, “I’m your best friend?” 

You cracked a tiny smile, “Of course you are, idiot.” 

His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. “I don’t hate you.” He said, “I don’t care that Zeus is your dad. It’s just…”

“He forgot about me.” 

“What?”

You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what you’d been avoiding since you left the Big House, “Zeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.” 

Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her. 

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” He said in a low murmur. “Thalia was a friend of mine and Annabeth’s. Brought back some rough memories.” 

“Oh.” You breathed, “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry.” 

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didn’t like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldn’t help it — you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears. 

Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling. 

Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You weren’t forbidden enough for them, apparently. 

“Sorry for shoving Chris.” He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, “He was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying but…”

“I don’t care.”

His lips shut with a smack, “What?”

You let out a sad chuckle, “Be miserable. I don’t care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Y’know? This isn’t the happiest life.” 

Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. You’d let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears. 

You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier. 

“Anna Banana.” Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, “What are ya’ doing over here?”

The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, “So, you’re Zeus’ kid.”

“Yup.”

“I knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.” She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged — it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Zeus’. You sent her a kind smile. 

She returned it, glancing at Luke then, “Don’t call me that.” 

He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, “You were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.”

“Maybe they could.” You nodded. 

She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, “She likes me.” 

He smiled fully, amused, “She does.”

“You like me.”

A little sheepish, “I do.”

“So who cares if daddy dearest doesn’t?” You settled on, tilting your head, “We got each other.” 

Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didn’t work idk what’s going on)

[n0v4t33z]

Dark Desires : Masterlist

Pairings: VampireCatHybrid~Seonghwa x Female Reader, VampireCatHybrid~Ateez x Female Reader

Synopsis: After getting kidnapped by eight handsome vampires Y/N realizes that the reason for her kidnapping is far less sinister than she originally thought (For her at least). Unfortunately things get dark when the spite and jealousy of their mentor's younger brother who became possessed by a demon who rules the realm of the undead with a thirst for infinite power over his legion. Will Y/N be willing to find her happily ever after with her friends and her lover or will she die trying?

Genre: Horror, Angst, Romance, Vampire Ateez, Paranormal?

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Violence, Language, mentions blood, Highly Suggestive at times

(I'll update the tags and stuff later!)

Spotify Playlist 🩸

✨ Chapters Below The Cut!🧡🐈‍⬛✨

•─────⋅☾ 𖤐 ☽⋅─────•

Chapter I : Cat's Out of the Bag

Chapter II : Eternally Yours

Chapter III : Malice In Wonderland

Chapter IV : The Gift from the Undead

Chapter V : 9 Lives (Delayed)

Extra :

???

If you want to be tagged for this series DM or Comment! 🐈‍⬛🖤

[sunnycanvas]

Tantalizing Love

Baldwin iv x fem!reader

I was wandering lonely in the sky,

Had no connection, no matter what, with those who fly

It was the middle of night in Jerusalem. A new year's eve to be exact. You drank beer from the can as you watched fireworks in the sky from the bridge

You sighed exhausted. You walked alone on the bridge heading towards your hotel. This place hasn't had peace for generations you thought. From history till today this place place hasn't known peace. Just when this country is in peace for few generations. It faces war again

Since the day I learnt to flap my wings,

I've been listening to a melody that the cold wind sings.

You never understood your attachment to this place. You remember talking to your friends and family where there was a discussion on which place to visit

"Jerusalem" you replied

Confused they would look at you

"For historical reasons of course" you reasoned

"Since, when did you start loving history so much" one of your friends asked

Not knowing the answer yourself you stood there quietly in the middle of busy street tightening your hold on your bag

Your other friend noticing your discomfort said

"People change, so do their interest" your friend said trying to defend you

"Kingdom of heaven" you replied

Now this got attention of both of your friends who looked at you confused. "I remember watching Kingdom of heaven in television long time ago. Ever since I have been fascinated by this place" your friends nodded understandingly. "I knew you weren't type of academic" your friend who originally questioned you replied smugly. You scoffed hearing his response and your other friend laughed.

Same response came from your family

"You want to go to Jerusalem after your graduation?" They questioned

"Yes" you replied confidently

"But why?" asked one of your family member.

"Because I want to" you replied confidently determined. They seemed confused but thankfully they didn't inquire further. However none of your friends or family wanted to visit Jerusalem. "It's okay" you thought, you could live here alone.

As you walked streets of Jerusalem you watched the sky filled with fireworks

"People seem happy despite their difficult life" you thought. You wondered how Baldwin iv would have felt if he saw his country today. You remember after watching the movie you ended up reading story of Baldwin iv and realised that historically there was much more story and different one shown in movie. You always thought that once you enter Jerusalem your obsession with this place would end.

I pushed too hard to rise up high,

A bullet hit me, I broke down, Oh sigh! ! !

Alas, it worsened. You started having dreams of man every day who seemed blind. He also had missing nose and obvious disfigurement in face. These dreams became more frequent. The more you visited historical sites in the country of Israel . Each time you would see more vivid images and more scenarios. Are these memories you thought?

Tomorrow you went and visited the church of holy sepulchre. There you stood watching the place. Suddenly you had a strong headache and more scenarios came

The thirst of my throat, the tinge of my tongue,

Relieved by the rain, reminds me the song that was sung

"Baudouin" you said with tears running from your eyes. "I don't want to leave you. I don't fear your condition please let me stay not as a lover but atleast as a subject who takes care of her king". You cried as you nearly fell on the floor but Baldwin iv caught you.

"Hush now, you need to leave" people have started to notice our affair and they are not pleased since I am the king and you are maid. Also I have taken vow of chastity. You know right leprosy is thought to be transmitted through sexual intercourse as well as disfavour from God". "It's dangerous for not only for me but you as well to be in relationship with me. If people came to know that you were in relationship with Leper then you be marginalized as well. You wouldn't be able to get married as you always wanted" he reasoned

"I don't care, I don't want anyone else but you". You sobbed. Baldwin iv looked upset and he hugged you. "For once I wanted to be selfish" he said. "I thought we were careful" you cried in his chest. "It seems we weren't careful enough" Baldwin iv sighed. "We need to seperate and it's for the best for both of us" Baldwin iv said in pain. "Please don't make it anymore difficult for me"

Then landscape got disturbed, with my hue & cry,

I decided to break down, but then you passed by

You left the palace as soon as rumours spread. Your name was not ever recorded in history as people believed that the Leper king having a lover was just a rumour.Just like that you disappeared in history. You soon lost touch with your king and died of broken heart. King Baldwin iv never knew, the only people who knew about your affair kept your affair secret told the king that you had found someone else and married that you live a well settled life. Baldwin iv was happy with slight jealousy. He knew this was for the best and you deserve a better life and not be dragged down with leper. Baldwin iv never knew and people who knew about truth carried it with them to grave

Even though Baldwin iv is no longer remembered as king disfavoured by God. He remains hugely unknown in the west. Just like you he hugely remains unknown today but unlike you he is still remembered by some people. You staggered when you recalled your memories and began to cry. You wished things could have ended differently

Looking at you & feeling your glow,

Just as in movies, and the motion was slow

"Ma, Cherie" you heard. You turned around and saw a man who had very bright eyes, an aquiline nose and blond hair. He had ruddy face and moderate height.

Wondering why you picked me up, and in this life can I ever deny?

How your words housed my mind, straight through my heart, Bullseye! ! !

Baudouin, you thought. Realising you recognised him. He smiled and said. "I missed you Ma Cherie, it's been 900 years"

Have no enough expressions, my words are in dearth,

With you by my side dear, I'm the happiest man on Earth.

-Reincarnation Love Poem by Sawan Dhyani

[yanderu-deredere]

I don’t know if you’re taking reqs or thirsts? So you don’t have to answer this, but how about a scenario with Fujio? His breeding kink just shining through. He has reader in a mating press and is just going at it. Anywho, I hope you have a good day and your blog is very aesthetic!! <3!!

a/n: alexa, play tik tok sound ive been waitin for this one! jokes aside loool thank you so much for this blessed ask forreal, i just love this so so much and i love being able to write for this bastard horny man! hope you likey? might make a not second part to this but like an alternate part where its dude darling... we'll see

warning: female parts and pronouns, slight implications of a chubbier reader, breeding kink, kind of a little bit of objectification and misogynism (references to women in the kitchen/in the household/as homemakers), degredation

fujio watanabe ★ profile

Honestly, Fujio didn’t know where this hunger came from. 

He had just come from work; he had lugged what felt like thousands of pounds of drugs and equipment through the docks, he was sweating and exhausted, and all he wanted to do was sleep for a hundred years.

Then, you came in like a mirage in the middle of a desert. You were in the kitchen with an apron tied around your waist, your hips swaying almost hypnotically and your voice humming melodically. 

It was like the first time he saw you.

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that there was a spotlight shining on you, for Christ’s sake. There was just something about you cooking for him in his kitchen, so peaceful and happy, just there, in his house, after a day of him working so he could provide for you.

He groaned as he immediately felt himself chub in his jeans.

“Fuji?” You called out, not even turning around to look at him, too busy chopping something in front of you. He could hear the rhythmic thump of the metal against the cutting board. 

Instead of responding, he just dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and surged forward, ignoring his aching muscles in favour of satiating this new lust that he could feel filling his cock.

“How was work?” You asked him pleasantly, apparently unaware of the oncoming storm. 

It didn’t take long for you to figure it out, though, because he was immediately pressing his hard-on against your ass, grinding it between your cheeks as a way to relieve the burning ache as his fingers desperately worked to remove your pants.

“Fujio!” You dropped the knife to grab his wrists to stop him but, like always, the bull-headed man completely disregarded you.

Instead, he pressed a kiss to the back of your ear and then started mouthing at your neck “Missed you at work. Dunno, got really horny seeing you cooking.”

“What the hell does that mean!” You tried not to moan as he sucked a hickey into your skin but, instead of answering your question, he just pulled your pants down to your ankles.

You would’ve huffed indignantly at him but, before you could, he wrapped an arm around your waist and manhandled you to face the dining table. Then, with a broad palm, he pressed you down onto it, bending you forward.

“I can never get tired of this view.” Fujio chuckled as he thumbed his bottom lip before, just as hastily as he had dealt with your pants, he undid his, freeing his hard beefy cock and letting it bounce against your ass. 

“Now, le’see…” Without hesitation, his strong calloused hand cupped your thick thigh and raised it, propping it up onto the table so he could get to the real treasure.

“You complain too much for someone who’s drippin’, huh?” He chuckled in that arrogant way that made you want to kick him but, before you could really retort, he was already pressing a finger into your cunt, the stretch of it forcing your hips to flex a little bit.

There was no give, though. Fujio was nothing if not strong and you were held in place by both his body caging you in and his hand holding you down.

In fact, your squirming only succeeded in grinding you against him and that did nothing but rile him up. In retaliation, Fujio already instinctively knew how to crook his finger to make you absolutely gush. 

You whined and squirmed even more which, in turn, had him pushing another finger in you, plunging both of them as deep as they could go, scissoring them and stretching them apart to prepare your walls for his rather hefty dick.

The stretch, of course, teetered between pleasure and pain, in that area that pushed you closer to an orgasm but pulled you away from it all at the same time. It was a familiar sensation that Fujio loved to give you and that you, more or less, loved to receive. 

“You sure are wriggly today, huh?” He laughed again in that deep rumbling haughty way of his and then, suddenly, you felt his hand leave your back. Before you could rise, though, you felt the sharp sting of his palm against your ass.

You only had time to yelp before, again, you felt it on the other cheek and then, again, on the first cheek. Each time, Fujio could feel you clench so hard on his fingers that it made his dick throb painfully. 

While you were distracted with the painful tingle, Fujio pulled his fingers out, using his now soaked hand to grab his dick and guide them to your equally as soaked pussy entrance. He knew you’d yell at him for the inadequate foreplay but he was a man possessed and he needed to be in you like yesterday.

Without hesitating, he thrust his entire cock in you, relishing in the way your folds parted for him so easily. You let out a choked gasp that had him groaning into your throat.

Fujio’s cock always stung whenever he thrust it in on a good day and that was since he was just that big. But, without the proper preparation this time around, he leaned closer to pain than pleasure this time around. 

The fact that his fingers, now not so preoccupied with your pussy, focused on your clit helped a little bit, though. 

“God, I’ll never get fuckin’ tired of how soft ya’ are.” He muttered, sounding absolutely enamoured before he started pulling his hips back.

You let out a little mewling sob when he did, probably because it felt like he was pulling everything out with his thick cock, before choking out another gasp when he pushed it back in even faster. He gradually got faster and faster, his thrusts getting harder and harder til even the table was creaking under the both of you. 

“You know, bet this soft li’l pussy’d be perfect for a baby, huh?” He suddenly grunted into your ear, his chest suddenly pressing hard against your back and his arm wrapping loosely around your neck. He wasn’t suffocating you but he was definitely trapping you under him.

“Bet I could fill you--” He groaned low as he hit a particularly hard thrust “Bet I could fill you to the brim like the li’l cumdump ya’ are, keep you in the kitchen, make you the perfect li’l mommy?”

You tried your hardest to shake your head, your hands moving to claw at his arms at an attempt to get him to let you go but he just chuckled and kept fucking you like an animal, with just one thought in his mind.

“God, I can just feel your warm li’l womb try’na suck my cum out, baby.” He moaned, nipping at your ear before moving down to suck a hickey into your neck “You sure you don’t want it? Your pussy’s milkin’ me.”

Before you could even shout in argument, you were hit with a hard orgasm. Your nails dug into his skin, your entire body fighting to try and curl into itself. He laughed, the loudest he has since he’s gotten back, hearty and boisterous, like he’d just proven his point and, really, hadn’t he?

His thrusts renewed in vigour and, after a couple more, he finally did one strong push and came, his cum warm and sticky as it spurted inside you as deep as it could go.

As if to taunt you even more, he leaned down, arm still around your neck tightening just a bit “You’re mine, you breeding bitch. Remember that."

[mediocre-quill-ink]

hi!! if your inbox is open can i please request sfw & nsfw hcs for medic with a vampire s/o who needs to feed? thank you 🦇🖤

Thank you so much for the request. It was really fun to think about. Also, it's not just feeding headcanons if that's ok. Additional vampire dating stuff, I got carried away. I hope you enjoy it, though

Tw and content: lots of mentions of blood, of course. Some Catholic fetishism near the end. Cannibalism? Kind of? Medic drinking blood, really. Sadomasochism. Most of my vampire logic is based on interviews with the vampire and Draculaura (the book) and my own personal head canons, so the logic switches around sometimes. Google translate German.

Relationship:

Ok, so to start, everything I've stated in my first medic hcs still stands but I'll re state a few things

I feel like he'd let you drain patients for sure.

He'd never tell them. At least for a good while, lmao

When people are dying left and right on the field, he'll definitely bring a few to his lab to drain before the crew has enough time to re spawn and realize.

If you'd like him to keep up this practice I feel like he'd ask you preferences.

Wanna get drunk? Well, a demo corpse is yet to be disposed of

Or maybe just a bit buzzed? A spy is here!

Of corse, he'd keep blood bags in the fridge for you

If you wanna feed on him, though, well now you've got a whole new can of worms

If you ask him if you can feed on him, he'd be very surprised and then surprised that he is surprised.

"You want to feed on me? Oh! Well... ja. Yes- I can do that. I don't know why I didn't suspect this. I mean- I am your partner."

Yes. He's doing this

And tbh he's a little to excited

Not only does it do it for him (more on that later), but he just finds the whole process incredibly interesting.

He's a doctor, after all. And of corse it's his duty as a doctor (and your boyfriend) to take note of your species' behavior

"Would you say you prefer drinking blood straight from the neck or peircing a vein and draining it into a cup?"

"Would you be equally satisfied if drained my own blood into iv bags or is the intimacy a part of the feeding process?"

I feel like once or twice you drank to much from him and he was a bit insistent on monitoring his blood pressure when you fed for a while.

Man, doss he love to resurch you.

He tries his best from experimenting on you.

(Tempting. Very Tempting. But he manages to hold back.)

I like to imagine he tried to take your blood pressure and was surprised to see it was zero.

"Fasinating" He would say

"What did you expect?"

"I'm not sure..."

"Well I AM dead. Blood dosnt exactly flow amymore."

"Tell me more about the whole... being dead thing?"

He asks so many questions it's kind of unbearable at first lmao

I feel like if he knew you were a vampire before you started dating or early in he'd have an easier time opening up to you than a human

People see and treat him as a monster all the time. Him interacting with a literal monster with a thirst for blood no less makes him more comfortable opening up about his strange interests than usual.

"They'd probably get it"

I feel like he's always wanted to drink blood tbh

I mean, he's tasted it. No doubt. When you have such a gory hobby and your gloves somehow always have fresh blood on them, you're bound to get blood in your mouth at some point.

But to actually drink it has never been attempted.

I think one time you're drinking from a blood bag while you both are chilling somewhere, and he just goes, "How does that taste?"

You think it's another round of one of his routine questions and respond something like "it's nice. Refreshing. Irony. Warm. It's kind of like a soup, I guess? It tastes different when you're dead. I can tell you that much." And just keep slurping

"Can i... try it?"

You look at him and after a moment of thinking go "yeah."

You have a feeling he probably won't like it. When you were human, it just tasted like blood. Blood is blood. But when you were turned. When your body died and now ran on dark supernatural forces. When the only thing that could keep these dark forces thriving and preserving your mortal vessel was the warm essence of what once lived. It tasted different. This new way of life (or after life) gave you new senses. New flavors, new colors, new sounds. Suddenly, blood, raw organs. It tastes good.

He took a sip. He took a moment to think. Then he took another, longer sip. And his response

"I think I like it."

It was by no means his favorite drink, nor was it something he drank frequently. But on occasion, he did. Mostly with you, but he'd find himself occasionally sipping on it while at work or home alone.

Also he probably just smells like blood most of the time

Like not strongly of it, for a human, it's noting more than a subtle after note but for a vampire such as yourself, senses heightened and all that, it's easier to recognize and find it quite enjoyable.

I feel like if your a sun sensitive vampire he'd give you his coat alot.

He's a large man with a larger coat.

If you worry about the sun he'd take it off and drape it around you, more often than not placing the shoulders of it on top of your head. Letting the shadow of his large coat cover all of you.

Also I like to imagine he sharpens your Fangs every now and then for you if you ask

I like to imagine you both rob Graves together lmao

Pet names. i can't think of many good vampire ones, but i like "meine süße Fledermaus" (my sweet bat) and "Königin/König der Nacht" (queen/king of the night)

Sexual

He really has a thing for being bitten, man.

He's sadomasochistic, and man, does the masochism really show around you.

He loves being used as a blood bag in the heat of it all.

When His senses are nearing the point of extreme and you bite into his neck or shoulder or chest

Lawd have mercy the moans your about to hear.

That feeling of sex mixed and muddied with pain drives him crazy

Idk how you feel about vampires and religion mixing, but I'm imagining medic likes to have his hands tied up with Rosarys.

Tied up with rosaries and fucked by a force of darkness?

I feel like hes kind of into Catholic guilt sex if that makes sense?

Again, depending on how you imagine vampires mix with religion. If you let him, I feel like he'd also like to tie you up with rosaries.

Not just because of the whole power dynamic thing he's into

But like the gothic imagery is hot

Also, blow jobs with Fangs?

He dosnt like getting bit there but like it's the risk that's hot you know?

Like you COULD but you won't.

That's the hot part you know?

Also just like- with your vampiric powers can be useful in bed.

If we're going by Dracula rules.

Super strength, speed, and can change form at will, to grow from large to small?

Now i haven't finished the book so I might get the nuances of this wrong but like... I'm just saying.

Super strength. Can pin him down nice and easy. And as I've stated in my past hc post. If he likes to be hit around nice and good that'll certainly help.

Super speed? Thrusting, bouncing, hand jobs. Enough said.

Can grow and shrink at will? The possibilities of that, man.

Shrink just a tad so he can feel bigger in you

Or larger to tower over him.

(It'll make your dick bigger along with the rest of your body if you've got one, just saying...)

Sorry, I don't have a lot for the sexual portion, I feel like most of what I needed to say was already stated, but I hope you enjoyed it. This was fun to think about. I may update a few more times if I got new ideas. Thank you sm for the request! Tbh I was thinking about writing a medic/vampire a day or two ago and this was great inspiration! Stay batty!

[ghosts-cyphera]

okok so i’ll put myself on anon bc im kinda shy but its sun teehee and i also have a history teacher story its RAHH

its during my second year in college and i get this really amazing history prof who’s such a nerd but in a cool way? he always comes to campus in three piece suit, leather laptop bag, polished shoes and all that prof archetype ykyk?

but yea he’s so fine that i, shamefully, took his other courses because, well, it’s part of my grad requirements anyway but one of his courses needs a prerequisite before i can take it and so i go to his office hours because im genuinely interested in getting his class and was wondering if he’ll allow me to go to his other course? like i was wondering if this prerequisite was really necessary given that im taking a similar course anyway? hope this is making sense omg im typing this all giddy n embarrassed

anyway i knocked and peeked on the open door and he waves me in and im like nervous because this man is gorgeous and ive never been alone with him and oh my god i shouldve just emailed him - literally spiralling. so yk i sit in front of his desk and before i can introduce myself, because i didnt expect this man to remember me given how much students he teaches, he goes “oh (name) youre in my (x) hist right? whatre you here for dear?”

and like he didnt even mean it in a way that goes beyond prof-student relationship yk but im such a sucker for like petnames? esp bc he knew me??? but yea i remember squeaking out my question if i can take his course without the prereq, clammy hands gripping my pants n just. its so embarrassing for me ?3$.)!/:

anyway he did allow me to get his course bc he said im an outstanding student n uhh yea. he was just a central point in my college experience so i really carry that experience w me everywhere (im at uni now and sometimes i miss the thrill of liking a prof but then i bonk myself bc no time to thirst!!!)

HAHDHSJD SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX MY LUV 😭

EEEEEK I LOVE THIS !!

this why I love having writer friends like the way I felt like I was right there with you had me freaking giggling over here, hahaha.

the outfit description though—I am SWEATING. more professors should dress in the very cliche, very dark academia kinda style. I’mma start a petition real quick, haha.

and the petname?! not the petname omfg yes, how do they always know what’s good?! like even if it was just innocent—aaahh.

loved living through this experience with you, lovie!! thank you so, so much for sharing this with us. I adore you so, so much mwahmwah 💗✨

[rewin-d]

Bread

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader

WARNINGS: Sappy

A/N: I got a free loaf of bread and was excited so I called my boyfriend about it and he never picked up, he never does. I think he's embarrassed of me. He never comes over.

The last customer left the store and you threw your hand up, stretching them out, popping a few bones. A satisfied sigh and moan left your lips, you look around and start cleaning up a little.

...

You finished cleaning and put the wipes aways under the front desk then walked to the break room and grabbed a water bottle, you were about to take the most scrumptious thirst quenching sip after only drinking sodas until you heard footsteps. You set the water bottle on the table and walk back out to the front.

"Hi welcome to-" the lady jumped a little and you apologized for the scare you gave "What brings you today ma'am?" The lady clears her throat and starts rummaging through her bag.

"Nothing really just wanted to let you know that I'm the owner of the bakery that's behind the building and I'm giving out loafs to the locals! I just opened and this is my way of getting people to come!" She smiled and handed you a thick round loaf of bread. You smile widely and thanked her before she left.

When the door closed you ran for your phone and dialed your boyfriends number. The phone ringed for a few seconds before you heard the familiar accent

"I am a little busy at the moment mío amore-"

"Ah, I just wanted tell you that got a free loaf of bread"

"Huh?"

You walked to the break room and sipped on your water before repeating yourself "I got free bread and I was thinking of making some soup but I don't know what kind to make-"

"That one you made last time I visited- the eh, what was it? Ah broccoli cream!"

"Ooh- I can do that! But I'm just missing some black peper-"

"Don't worry about that, I'll pass for it after the meeting I'm in-"

"I'll call you back in a bit then?" Copia nodded over the phone before realizing it was a voice call and not a video call "Ah- si! And I will also give you a call when I pass by il mercato if you need anything else" you giggled a little "You're to sweet- oh I got another customer! I'll talk to you later- bye love you!"

"Ciao ti amo anch'io!"

Later on in the evening you and your ani-pope boyfriend enjoyed a nice soup with bread and wine along with a movie marathon.

A/N: Sorry it was sappy but I was just feeling like that today and here's the bread I got today :]

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Misty, chapter x (the end)

chapter i | chapter ii | chapter iii | chapter iv | chapter v | chapter vi | chapter vii | chapter viii | chapter ix | chapter x

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit (whole thing)

Fandom: Prospect

Pairing: Snowman!Ezra x f!reader (monsterfucker au)

Tags: it’s basically monster fucking but with a snowman which could technically be classified as a monster i guess?, gothic horror kind of, sorrow, dementia, anxiety, dog murder, masturbation, Frankie thirst, pet murder, racism mention, huge age gap, implied possible sexual abuse of minor, spookiness, PiV sex with an actual snowman, possible hallucinations, hypothermia, Frankie yearning, the spookiness continues, More dog murder and implied sexual abuse of a minor, implied illegal abortion, adulterous kissing, lots of crying.

Chapter warnings in addition to the above mentioned: Character death.

Summary: Escaping your empty apartment after having been dumped by your fiancé, you rent a cottage at Oakgrove House over Christmas to nurse your wounds. But strange things seem to happen at the estate, where an old woman wanders around in search of old friends long gone, and snowmen appear as if by themselves on the lawn…

Chapter word count: 1,985

A/N: You know what the problem is when you start a fic, write on it for a couple of weeks, then leave it be for the next eleven months or so? You forget the original idea. (Unless of course you were smart enough to write down the entire synopsis, which of course I wasn't.) This is a very different fic from what I wanted to write during Christmas of '21. But sometimes change is good, I guess. Thank you, readers! The epilogue is for you.

Tagging: @harriedandharassed @paulalikestuff @pazizz @lovesbiggerthanpride

You wake up on the couch with no idea how you made it there. Curled up against the cushiony seat and with a blanket thrown over your naked form, you slowly blink your eyes open. The first thing that you notice is that there is sunlight rippling in through the window. You have not seen the sun in weeks, it seems. But there it is: a faint, end of December sunlight that tells you that it is late in the morning, and you need to move on. The official check-out time is noon, but Denise had told you when you spoke to her over the phone that one hour here or there does not matter. You have to clean up, however.

Stretching out carefully, you notice the light scratch of the wool blanket on your skin. You're naked, but warm and comfortable. There is a soft beat in your pelvis, like little tremors lingering after an earthquake. You recognize it as the aftermath of an orgasm but have never experienced it so long after the actual event.

Last night comes back to you and brings a smile to your lips. You have no fear, no disgust, no confusion. Everything seems crystal clear, and you feel amazing, filled with new energy and hope. You get up and take a shower, enjoying every single drop of water washing away anxiety and dust. You take the showerhead in one hand and direct it between your legs as you brace yourself against the wall with your other hand, head thrown back with a low moan as you give yourself the quickest orgasm you've ever had. Positively glowing, you dry yourself off and look at yourself in the mirror. Your face does not seem to match up with your mood: you have dark bags under your eyes, your skin is pale, almost ashen, and the lines you have seem deeper. Not letting that affect you, you get dressed and start to clean up the place. You do it humming, and on light feet, as if a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

The photographs and the letter are put back in the attic, right where you found them. They are not yours to keep. You make sure the bookcase looks untouched, the postcards back in their hiding places. As you sweep the floors, you have time to think about what happened last night, the revelations that had been shared with you.

Ezra was not innocent, despite his willingness to help Olga. He knew about her feelings, her age, and he exploited her. He could have helped her get the abortion without asking for anything in return. He manipulated her into killing her dog just to see if she would do it. You know this. You have had him inside of you and you know his mind, for it has been inside yours. He was untamed and complicated, the blurry grayness between the boring absolutes of black and white.

Maybe the killing of Snowflake prepared Olga for what she might have to do one day. Maybe it was Ezra's way of helping her beyond what he himself was willing or able to do. For reasons unknown, he never intended to take her with him, you know that now. Maybe he gave her the next best thing: a capacity for death.

Fifteen minutes past twelve, you put your bag into the trunk of your car and brush the snow off the vehicle before walking up to the main house to leave the key. The sunlight has diminished slightly by now and clouds are gathering again, but that does not affect your mood. You're excited to return home, get rid of the apartment and move into a new one, one that's not sullied by the memory of your treacherous ex. The rat, with its sharp teeth and claws red of your blood, is gone from inside your ribcage, and you are going to leave it behind, run over it when you drive away from Oakgrove.

Denise answers the door and you can immediately see that she has been crying.

"Oh, right, you're leaving," she says, as if she had completely forgotten about you. Accepting the key, she takes a deep breath.

"Mom died last night."

Your mouth falls open. "Oh. Oh... I'm sorry. That's... but she was out only yesterday?"

"Yes, know," Denise acknowledges. "We had dinner and then she went upstairs for a lie-down. Later when I went to check on her, she had passed away. In her sleep, apparently. The ambulance was here around nine, you didn't notice?"

You strain to remember what time it had been when you had seen Olga and Ezra last night, but you have no idea. Did you catch a glimpse of the clock when you used your phone as a flashlight in the attic? Not that you can remember.

Your face must have betrayed something, because Denise tilts her head.

"Are you okay?"

It is ridiculous that she, who just lost her mother, should ask that of you, so you hurry to nod.

"Yes, I'm just... she seemed well enough yesterday. I'm so sorry."

"I feel bad for thinking it," Denise confesses with a grimace, "but it feels like it's better this way. She never had to end up in an institution. If her dementia had progressed, she would have become too much for me. She could die in her own bed, in her home."

A sad little smile plays on her lips. "She never left home, you know. Grew up here, never went anywhere, not even vacation. She always wanted to stay close to home."

You swallow, casting down your eyes.

"Did she have siblings? Maybe someone who's still alive?"

Denise shakes her head. "She had a brother, but he died young. Some kind of accident, she never spoke about it."

Your bright mood darkens and your stomach twists. Olga's daughter does not know what you know. It seems unfair, but how could you ever tell her? How could she ever believe you?

Expressing your condolences once again, and thanking Denise for the rent of the cottage, you finally turn around and walk to your car. Thoughts spin around your head and you try to lay them to rest with Olga. There is nothing more you can do but return home and live in the knowledge that half a century ago, something horrible happened here and this Christmas, you found out what that was through a series of inexplicable events.

If anything of is it true, that is. You have the words of an old woman with memory disease, and the gestures of a ghost. A fucking ghost, who possessed a snowman that you can find no traces of. A snowman that had sex with you.

Your good mood is gone and instead, you feel light-headed. The sun is obscured by dark clouds, and a couple of snowflakes come dancing down. Before you've reached your car, it's coming down as thickly as it did a few days ago, when you arrived. Before you get into the car, you look around you, maybe expecting the snowman to still stand on silent guard somewhere. But there is nothing but snow covering a front garden. The windows of the picturesque little cottage are dark. You glance up at the attic window, maybe expecting to see something up there. What, you don't know.

Eventually, you brush the snow off of your coat, and get into the car. Adjusting yourself on the seat, you frown when your coat gets stuck uncomfortably under you. Lifting your ass, you reach underneath you to smooth the fabric out, and your hand touches something hard.

It's a leatherbound diary. When you open it, you see Olga's name written on the first page, along with the letters, photographs, and cards that you found. The date of the first entry is the first of May 1952.

You look around you, check the mirrors, but of course you see no one. Putting the diary on the seat next to you, you start the car and back out of the driveway. You’ll read it when you come home. Maybe.

When you reach the junction where the road divides into a smaller section that leads to the lake, and the main one continues away from the house, a small, white dog runs right in front of your car. You step on the breaks with a startled shout, and the car comes to an abrupt stop. You weren't going fast, thankfully, but your heart is beating as you put the car in park and unbuckle your seatbelt to go out and have a look. Before you have opened the door, however, you see the animal by the roadside. It's a rabbit in its white winter coat. Its black eyes glare accusatorily at you before it hops off. You stare after it as your heart slows down, and for a moment you half expect to hear Olga's haunting cry for her pet.

But there is only silence, save for the whir of the heater. When your legs have stopped shaking, you release the handbrake and gently press down on the gas pedal. For the last half mile before the county road, you drive slowly through the falling snow, checking the sides of the road but seeing nothing more. When you reach the end of the private road and hit the turn signal, you're met by a pickup truck that slows down enough for you to catch Frankie nod at you through the window. Before you can nod back, he's away towards the house.

Speeding on the county road, Ezra's smirk haunts your rear-view mirror. You put on the radio and block him out, focusing instead on what lies ahead.

I can't find him Misty... Oh, please, can you help me? He must be somewhere Open window closing Oh but wait, it's still snowing If you're out there I'm coming out on the ledge I'm going out on the ledge

Kate Bush: Misty

epilogue

Winter has turned into spring when you're packing up the last boxes in your old apartment, the one that you shared with your ex. In your pocket burns the keys to your new place, your very own place, where your own bed, a brand new one, waits to embrace you.

There is a knock on the door, and you almost skip to the door, expecting your friend to come and help you carry your belongings. But it's not her, but Frankie, the gardener from Oakgrove House.

"Hi," he smiles bashfully, clearly awkward with the situation, yet there is a hopeful glint in his eye.

"What... what are you..."

"I know. It's bad, isn't it?" He pulls the baseball cap off his head and scratches his hair.

"How did you find me?"

"I asked Denise. Said I found something in the garden when the snow melted, something that belongs to you."

"Did you?"

"No."

"What do you want, Frankie?" You are now alarmingly aware of how inappropriate this is, and Frankie seems to be thinking the same.

"I wanted to see you."

"Here I am," you state dumbly. He chuckles low, but his eyes have a dark intensity to them as he looks at you.

"Here you are."

"And where is your wife and kid?" you ask harshly. Frankie casts down his eyes and clears his throat.

"At home. I mean... at her home. She filed for divorce between Christmas and New Year."

You want to say you're sorry, but that would be a lie. Frankie shakes his head.

"It was stupid of me to come here. I'm sorry."

He turns around abruptly and starts to walk away. You take a step out.

"Frankie?"

He stops and turns around. "Yes?"

"You good at carrying boxes?"

His smile is a little lopsided, but warm.

"I get by."

You wave at him to follow you, then return inside.

[gltzpzy]

at least u getting some, my virgin ass just thirst over men I can't have and fictional men. Yes I'm 18+.

at least im happy tho. Problems come with 'men'. IF i ever find one, his donkey dick will submit TO ME. I swear on it.

Nah I don't, I'm too shy and insecure.

😭😭😭 anon i still thirst over fictional men & men i can’t have ur not alone (looks directly at peter b and miguel)

no SAME tho, ive convinced myself that any man i bagged would b submitting to me but nope. this guy literally makes me feel so small and girly in the best way possible. like last night when he was reversing his car and placed his hand on the back of my car seat i literally crumbled and exploded AND HE DIDNT EVEN DO ANYTHING😭😭😭😭

but if miguel was real, he’d be submitting to me 100% *BIG LIE DETECTOR BUZZES LOUDLY*

[smute]

Hiiieee omg hey hello yes hi 🥰 welcome to my tumper bog 🧌

no minors 🔞

will (soft-) block new followers if you have an empty blog / no age in ur bio / rancid vibes

my letterboxd 🍿

TAG GUIDE:

housekeeping:

#& = og posts and comments on rebogs

#ask = answered asks

#anon = anon asks

#my face = selfies and og pics 😎

#moochies = mutuals and things i was tagged in 💕

#tag game = tag games

#ask game = ask games

smut:

i stopped tagging #nsfw bc i was very inconsistent with it but i still use it as a blanket thing for hardcore stuff (which i dont rb very often).

update march '23: decided to start tagging #nudity again to make filtering easier for my followers. i'll use it for all kinds of naked people (full, partial, sexual, non-sexual, etc.) in addition to the existing community tags and my own thirst tags. let's see if i can keep it up 🥴 if you want to be on the safe side feel free to block individual tags as well:

#ah ohhh big honkin boobies some massive mmmmommy milkers huge hombers like massive gazongas just enormous milkin hooters = the prize-winning tiddy tag

#thirst tag

#just a hole etc

#full cocking balls = 🍆 and 🍒

#omg nobody look hes ass = butts 🍑

#ough veiny = veiny body parts

#ough hairy = hairy men

#hands = 👋

#slutty slutty stache = mustache pics 👨🏻

#sigh = gay kissies 💋

#tenderness = touch and skin and general physical intimacy

oh and i use "👁️👁️" in a few other horny tags so if you filter that too you should be good <3

general sfw things:

#adhd = adhd stuff

#fav = things i want to find again ❤️

#ref = useful information

#mecore = smutecore 🥺

#is he single = sfw thirst tag

#in many ways i am a large pickup truck = its true i am

#bopo = body image things, body positivity/neutrality

#always reblog = poasts i know ive reblogged a lot 🔄

#german stuff = german stuff 🇩🇪

#want and #shopping list = stuff i want, mostly earrings 🛒

text:

#poetry = poems

#words = words 📖

#note to self = kind motivational things/advice/general positivity ☀️

#lit = lit studies including all my hot takes 🤓

#ling = linguistics

#writing = writing 📝

visual:

#art = mostly paintings 🖼️

#photography = photography 📷

#portrait = portraits

#people = duh

#dudes chilling sexily = art of dudes chilling sexily (tm harsha)

#men with books = 3 guesses

#arch = architecture

#homes = interiors

#dream home = exteriors lmao

#donttouchme = remote hice 🏡

#they dont make them like this anymore = old books📕

#vestiture = clothes shoes bags jewelry etc

#10/10 would wear = also clothes 💃🏼

#embroidery = embroidery 🪡

nature:

#i miss the sea = water 🌊

#so liedownable = soft grass 🌱

#moistcore = gratifying wetness

#ah yes. the gnarled branch rough and twisted beckons you to dream = gnarled branches

#hills to roll down = rolldownable hills

#frühling = spring 🌷

#sommer = summer 🌞

#herbst = fall 🍁

#winter = ☃️

#i want snow = snow and ice ❄️

#strawbebbies my beloved = 🍓

#me i pet him wethands style = soft animals; mostly dogs

#our michael = old photos of cats 🐈

#ough dr puderzucker = corgis 🐶

#pasum = possum pics 🐾

#horse girl tag = irl hoarsies and rdr2 🐎

vibes:

#god i wish that were me = stuff i wish i could be

#i think that would fix me = things that would fix me

#lovecore = 💕🥰

#slutcore = self-explanatory 🖤

#snorkmimicore = oh so eepy 🥱

#on all levels except physical i am a smoker = smokers being hot and cool 🚬

#BANABA = 🍌

#ough = ough

#ough ough <3 = things that sometimes make me go ough ough <3

#100% ough ough <3 = things that always make me go ough ough <3

#wholesome = wholesome things 💖

places:

#i miss london = london 🇬🇧

#ough pawwis = paris 🇫🇷

#vedi napoli e poi muori & #italianpoasting = italy 🇮🇹

#island = iceland 🇮🇸 (and the faroe islands 🇫🇴)

#americana = norf america 🇨🇦🇺🇸🇲🇽

#fucking switzerland = 🇨🇭

#trains = trains 🚂

media:

#to watch = stuff i wanna watch 📺

#to read = book recs and articles 📚

#read later = reblogged without reading

#the lonely city my beloved = fantastic book

#penis wakt = twin peaks

#vincent van gogh = 🎨

#florence + the machine = fatm stuff

#music = songs

i also use a few common trigger and content warnings, but i'm the most consistent with things related to EDs, dieting, weight loss, and fatphobia

format: "[thing]" or "[thing] tw"/ "[thing] cw"

backups:

bluesky🦋

[lemonwrap]

Teeth & Tongues - Chapter 20

A very short chapter, but a chapter nonetheless.

Read it on Ao3!

Consciousness comes back to Soap slowly. For a few moments, he lays there, taking stock of his tired, aching body, eyes still closed as if sleeping. He blinks open his eyes and looks around, groaning softly. 

He’s in the infirmary. It’s not rare for him to visit an infirmary, as he was injured occasionally on missions, but it is rare he wakes up in one. It’s completely empty, minus one filled bed across the room, where there’s a sleeping form, and the lights are dimmed somewhat. A machine next to him quietly beeps, rhythmic. He swallows dryly, throat clicking, looking down. 

Ghost is there, the upper half of his body laying on Soap’s bed near his feet while still sitting in a chair he had pulled up to the bed. He nearly looks to be asleep. It’s endearing. He’s changed out of his gear and into a plain black balaclava, down to his civvies, although Soap can almost guarantee he probably still has a knife or gun on him. 

In contrast, Soap is ass naked, only dressed in a hospital gown, but at least he’s covered by a scratchy blue blanket. An IV is taped to his hand, on the same side as his injured shoulder. Shit, his shoulder. He had been shot. By Roba. The whole mission comes flooding back—the mansion, the jungle, the blood, the sharp pain of being shot. The pain is a distant thought right now. They must have him on some good shit, he thinks distantly. 

He raises a weak hand, the one not connected to an IV, to touch his bandaged shoulder and alerts Ghost, who grabs his hand in his own to prevent him from messing with it. Ghost lets him go in an instant, though. Soap wants him to put his hand back so he can hold it, wants to feel that warmth again. 

How are you feeling? Ghost asks him, and he seems worried. Soap can understand why. Watching Soap pass out from blood loss probably isn’t his fondest memory of their time together, he wryly thinks. 

“Thirsty,” Soap croaks out, instead of saying something normal, like “I’m fine”. His throat is dry and his mouth tastes like utter shit. Ghost gets up, stretching somewhat, and goes to the bedside table. There’s a pitcher of water and a glass that Soap hadn’t noticed until now. He’s much thirstier than he’d originally thought. When Ghost hands him the glass, Soap takes it and swallows the water in great gulps, trying to quench his thirst. 

Slow, Ghost scolds lightly. Soap only slows down slightly, too thirsty to properly listen. The water is cool and incredibly refreshing and he finishes it quickly, setting the cup down on the table. His shoulder aches a little as he moves. 

“Thanks,” Soap says, voice much clearer now that he’s had a drink. Upon closer inspection of Ghost, his brown eyes are underlined with heavier bags than usual. 

“How long have you been here?” Soap questions.

An hour or two, Ghost replies. Soap is a little touched, honestly. Ghost could’ve easily stayed in their room and slept, even if just for a little bit. Soap had to have been out for more than just an hour or two. Ghost has to be tired after their mission, and yet…

“You stayed,” Soap says, smiling wearily. “So you do like me.” 

Ghost rolls his eyes, but in an amused way, mirthful. Maybe. 

Soap’s mind goes to Roba and he becomes silent again. The bastard is dead, finally, and Ghost is free from his influence. What would he do now? Where could he go? As far as Soap knew, Ghost was a dead man, essentially. Still a ghost. But at least the worst was over, right?

“You did good,” he says after a few minutes. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.” 

It was still my fault you got shot, Ghost says, looking incredibly guilty, like a dog that ate food off of the table. His eyes flick up to meet Soap’s. Soap just wants to hold him, tell him that it was okay, that he is fine and would continue to be. It was part of the job, after all. Soap would do it all again if it meant he could keep Ghost away from Roba. 

“Stop it,” is what he says instead. “Shit happens.” 

I know, but—

“C’mere,” Soap says before Ghost can finish his train of thought and blame himself even more. “Just stay with me.”

Ghost stays.

[gobbluthbutagirl]

trying to remember what last june was like for me….um i know towards the beginning of the month i spent over an hour of my one precious life cleaning the single nastiest & most disgusting target cart anyone on this bitch hell of an earth has ever laid eyes on because we only had like 11 in the store at that time. i found a penis drawn in nail polish on the nail polish aisle. hr guy made a “float” for the pride parade that was literally just a target cart with some streamers on it and they didn’t ask me to be in the parade and i was literally soooo offended even though i was in the closet the entire time and then like 3 days before the parade hr guy was like, “holly are you coming to the pride parade with us?” and i was like “well you didn’t invite me so no” and that was how he found out i wasn’t invited so he invited me and i said yes. and then the day of the pride parade the damn a/c was out in the store and it was like 200 degrees hotter in there than it was outside and hr guy literally would not stop sending me on cart runs and the next day was more of the same except i got so dehydrated i literally almost died and i drank like 32oz of electrolytes including a liquid iv at work then went home early and immediately drank 40oz of water in under 2 minutes and still felt like i was dying of thirst all night. and then that wednesday a bald guy came in and tried to steal $1400+ worth of stuff including like 8 pairs of haircutting scissors and hr guy acted like a hypocrite and a fool over register-closing procedures and made me mad as hell and then later i found out there was a bob dylan concert that night from spotify asking me if i went and i was like no spotify i wasn’t at the bob dylan concert i was at target suffering more than jesus LIKE ALWAYS! and then my dad & brother & youngest sister flew in and we rented a hotel room in santa monica that was approximately 1000x nicer than that horrible shithole i called “my apartment” and we drove down to san diego that one day and the homeless guy with the bag of piss came up to us at the intersection and went, “we fucked her good!” which is still my favorite welcome from any city ever and then the last night of the vacation i literally ditched my family in santa monica and took 2 trains back to my horrible shithole apartment at like 10pm and ignored all their attempts to contact me until they were back on the east coast because i was so ashamed of the just everything about my life. and then there was that incident at the end of the month where hr guy made me so so so mad that i really said “well i might have to quit” and then just walked out 2 hours into my shift and then 2 days later i randomly showed up and i was like, “[hr guy], i’m gonna tell you exactly what my problem with you is and exactly why i’m quitting,” and then he was like, “would you like to sit down?” and i was like, “NO!” and then he sat down and i just stood there and yelled at him about how i’m an ideal employee and i have done things for this store that literally nobody else on earth is willing to do and he’s an asshole and nobody likes him and i’ve heard a lot of people say a lot of things about him and none of them have been anything good. and he was just like, “please don’t quit. i will pay you for this,” and i decided to stay because i decided that was objectively really funny. and then either i got a stomach ulcer or i already had a stomach ulcer and it exploded and ruined the rest of my summer. and it was literally the worst of times but it was also the most entertaining of times and oh god what if that’s the best my life ever gets